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| The man responsible for all the pink trolly's |
Plans change and somehow we have found ourselves in possession of two tickets to the Hampton Court Flower Show, yipee. Everyone on our carriage must be going to the same place how nice, they all look excited. We have arrived at Hampton Court, standing at the train doors there are a sea of faces. Down the platform, up the platform, everywhere. Ok lets join the throng. As one we make it through the station, over the bridge, along the Thames path and eventually we are in. This is more crowded than Harrods on a sale day.
Finally we get our rhythm and start to explore. Everyone is dressed nicely in lots and lots of florals. I think everyone here wears their favourite clothes and its an annual event. The trolly ladies are real veterans with strategies evolved over the years ready to snap up the latest plants for their gardens. I think I have landed in a different planet.
All the conversations are about roses, where is the rose tent, have you seen the Martha Sweet, what about the perfumes. Its all a bit overwhelming but around we go sculptures, displays, garden furniture, artists who will do a portrait of your house and garden. Its insane.
One favourite bit is the scarecrows made by school kids. There is even a plant creche to leave your plants whilst you shop for more. There is a bunch of ladies downing pimms before the sun is over the yard arm. The definitely don't take their plants seriously but they are having a jolly good time.
Its an amazing experience to be here, but intense overload of the senses not knowing which way to look and navigating between the people. We manage to do it ‘all’. With only a touch of FOMO.
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