Tiny tidbits from Paris...

Breakfast at the Jardin des Tuileries: created in 1564, (redesigned and) opened to the public in 1667, and still going strong. I just love the sense of history and permanence in Paris and other old European cities; it makes me feel safe, and part of the chain of humanity.

 

Have I ever mentioned how much I love Paris? I had almost forgotten myself, until we spent two very touristy and busy days there now in July, before flying further to Stockholm (and Seattle, for part of the family). Luckily, my girls, especially my cosmopolitan and artistic oldest, loved the city too with a passion, so I can hopefully look forward to some wonderful trips there when in Stockholm again - I can't believe it will be only 2.5 hours away then...

 

More from the Tuileries, designed by André Le Nôtre in 1664, with the enormous vases and now quite wildly planted "plate-bandes" that are parts of the majestically formal design.

View towards the Musée du Louvre; Parisians and tourists alike relax on the chairs generously strewn everywhere in the park.

 

Actually, my first memory of Paris involves getting lost in the Louvre. My siblings and I ran off from our parents without telling them where, eager to see the Mona Lisa (I was about ten years old then). Grown in a very small town as we were, we didn't quite grasp how enormous the old museum was - it would probably fill the whole city center of Turku. Of course, our parents panicked and were understandably upset and angry, when they found us two hours later, tired and scared, sitting in front of the famous painting and not knowing what to do or whom to ask for help.

 

Later, I travelled to Paris quite often during my years as a "business woman". As the Nordic Marketing Manager, I reported the European Director seated at the European headquarters at La Defense (the "business phase" of my life went over pretty fast, but I still smile at the memories of me and my laptop, traipsing around Europe and US trying to look very professional...). The best things from that time was that whenever possible, I saved the company money and "sacrificed" my free time by staying over the weekend in Paris - in those good old days, flight tickets were cheaper that way, not a bad way to be thrifty... And I can't ever forget a weeklong trip to Paris with my Art History professors; a full week of listening to their amazing stories about pretty much everything within art, history and architecture while walking through the streets and museums is one of my fondest memories of my years at the Stockholm University...

 

Musée du quai Branly on the edge of the Quai Branly and the Seine, and only hundred meters from the Eiffel Tower, has one of the lushest wall gardens on its façade.

The 200 meters long and 12 meter high green wall on the exterior of the museum was designed and planted by Gilles Clément and Patrick Blanch, masters of the vertical gardening. I do love it, but it looks at the same time... quite hirsute???

 

This time, I really wasn't on a garden trip, but have a couple of photos that I took along the way. Paris is extremely beautiful, even when we only got to the busy and most "tourist-affected" areas (we were tourists, too, I don't mean to be judgmental here...). What you need in these old European cities is time; time to walk, time to enjoy, time to find your own little sweet spots and haunts... the little cafes and special park benches, winding streets and surprising views. So even if I love Asia too, I really can't wait to be back in "good old Europe" at some stage, hopefully not all to far in the future, again.

What I love about Paris (and Stockholm, and many, many other old European cities) is the scale; four to six floors, almost no skyscrapers towering over the horizon and dwarfing the human beings. Also, I love the alleys, the parks and the plantings... and the way people make nests of their homes, with beautiful greenery flowing over (of course, this is the world of the lucky ones, but let me be a bit naïve for just a moment...). That's were I would like to live, in that apartment with the blooming balcony... Not likely, but at least I'll be able to visit more often from Stockholm.

 

Flower fields at Nyckelviken

The mid-18th century gazebo at Nyckelviken would be the perfect place for romantic meetings - I'm sure that the young members of the owning families sneaked out here for little tête-à-têtes every now and then...

Nyckelviken is one of my favorites, a small 18th century manor house just 10 minutes outside the city center (yes, despite trying to be so cool, Stockholm is that small). Arriving through the gravel drive through the forest, and walking down the long alley flanked by old lindens transfers you back in time to the countryside, despite being so near to the bustle of the modern world.

 

First glimpse of the vegetable gardens from the linden alley.

The manor house, now serving as a café and a restaurant...

The cute little billiard wing, which was also used for dinner dances. Please, can I be "transferred" to a 18th century dance party here, just for once?

 

Stora Nyckelviken, the yellow-painted main house, was built by Swedish East India Company director Herman Peterson around 1746, and has since then been owned by many nobilities and well-known personalities of the Swedish history. The original form of the building, including the color that was supposed to imitate sandstone from Italy, is still beautifully preserved, even if it is now somewhat "degraded" and serves as a café and a restaurant. There are two additional, red-painted wings, a billiard wing (also used for dinner dances in the olden days), a beautiful gazebo and several barns together with other utility buildings, some of which now house rabbits, chicken, pigs, ponies and other cute animals for kids to pet. In summer, the cliffs by the sea are excellent for swimming, and in wintertime, the long hills leading to the cliffs by the sea are perfect for sledding. There are even outdoor fire pits and sitting places where everyone can barbeque their home-brought sausages. Not surprisingly, Nyckelviken is popular among families living in the area, including mine; I have many fond memories of my girls with red cheeks and frozen little fingers, waiting impatiently for their hotdogs and hot cordial after a couple of hours in the snow.

 

One of the small, red-painted wings, now a tiny local museum...

 The central axis leading via the gardens from the manor to the gazebo; it is so good to see that the baroque style and elements have been preserved even when the garden styles have changed during the centuries.

 Flower fields in the old vegetable gardens; only part of them now grow edibles.

 

The old gardens still have their central baroque axis leading from the manor to the gazebo, and old lilac hedges separate the wings and the "garden proper" from the vegetable gardens. The many owners of Nyckelviken used to grow vegetables for the household both for the manor and for their houses in the city, but today, the gardens are mainly for show and for testing different gardening practices and for education - some lucky local school kids get to help harvesting the produce in the autumn. And of course, as "fika"(having a coffee, preferable with a cinnamon bun) is somewhat of a national sport in Sweden, there is an excellent café that serves delicious concoctions - many of which are baked with the fruits an berries from the gardens - for the hungry wanderer. Absolutely lovely, and well worth a detour if you are in the area.

 

 Beans and peonies in the kitchen garden... 

 

 Rows and rows of flowers in the cutting garden...

  ...and a final picture from the cutting garden, with the unusual orangery (nearly no glass panes - what kind of orangery is that?) in the background.

 

Back from a 'workcation' at Bredablick...

A well-needed break from my frenetic garden projects at Bredablick....

 

Everyone has probably heard about 'staycations', the type of holidays where you stay put instead of spending your well-earned holiday on a far-away beach or a trendy city destination. But what do you call it when you fly half around the world, in order to cut back loads of unruly saplings, furiously clean up weeds, and prune back shrubs (in addition to cleaning up & mending your house after some badly behaved rental guests...)? Maybe 'workcation' could be the right world, if it just didn't sound so ugly.

 

Anyway, we are back in Singapore, after four weeks of hard work, and hard play - and as you can guess, I'm still quite exhausted, even if I don't know from which of them the most. We started our tour with a couple of days in Paris (I had almost forgotten how much I love good old Europe), then the rest of the family flew over to Seattle, and I directly to Stockholm to take care of our house and garden (and later also to Turku, my old hometown for a couple of days, but that's another story).

 

The flowerbed by the entrance - with a surprising amount of survivors, from several peonies (they really can take a beating...) to hostas, boxwood balls (now hidden under the perennials) and other toughies...

A Japanese anemone and a bugbane (Actaea racemosa "Brunette") saying hello to me - sadly, I won't be there enjoying the amazing scent of the Brunette this year either...

 

I thought I would just take it over from the last people renting, little did I guess they had had some very eccentric ideas about how to hang curtains (drill tens of holes into the ceilings, and preferably try several times so that you really get it "right"...), try their skills with electrical installations (who cares if it short-circuits half the house), or knock off sinks (there's a drain in the floor for the overflowing water, you see - no problem...?). Getting professional handymen in place in the middle of July is a challenge in Scandinavia, but in the end, most things were repaired before we left. And all the anger I felt was probably good, as I made some serious progress in the garden, weeding, pruning and shoveling things back to shape.

 

Another flowerbed by the steps to the entrance; the hydrangeas had been damaged by the huge drifts of snow last winter, but were coming back with many new shoots from the base. Otherwise, the alchemillas and hostas desperately need dividing, but I didn't have time now for the huge project. At least I'll have a wheelbarrow load of plants in the future after doing so...

More of the front yard, with a huge old boxwood to the left, a couple of old oaks and a lot of lawn... Our house is on a dead-end street (on the left, not in picture) and we only have one neighbor; these two sides of the land are surrounded by a 4 meter high old lilac hedge, which will soon need cutting down for rejuvenation. In the spring, the lawn is full of porcelain scillas, crocuses, snowdrops, winter aconites, grape hyacinths and other tiny wonders that have been spreading there freely for decades. I don't think I'll ever have the energy to convert this part of the garden to much else than lawn - that would take way too much maintenance and watering, as the oaks drink up a lot. I mow what grows, and even if not perfect, the lawn rolls nicely together with the soft rounded cliffs (on the left). The only thing I've been thinking of is planting some old-fashioned peonies (my favorite...) in front of the huge rounded boxwood, towards the entrance door.

A picture taken from the 'seaside' of the house... the front meadow is also gone from all mowing, but will come back fast when I let it grow wild again. In the front left, there is an old pimpinellifolia rose that flowers only once, but spreads then its smell to the whole garden with the sea breeze. And the old oaks definitely need pruning back, the branches are hitting the roof and the façade of the house. We are probably the only people in Saltsjöbaden with an oak in the middle of the sea view...

 

 Hello Daddy Deer - a family with two kids had taken over the garden, constantly staring at us like we were some rude intruders... again, they were here first, so I need to adjust whatever I plant to them, not the other way around.

 

I was quite taken by the garden itself. I'd been thinking most of my darlings would be gone - as they say, it takes five years of neglect to erase a garden - but that wasn't the case. Even if some things had died, many of my favorite plants were still there, battling on, in some cases actually quite successfully. I felt that with some editing and some light-handed additions, we'll be back on track together as soon as I get back. And it feels like all these years - five already, and counting - my plans have simplified, and I really appreciate the site as the gorgeous patch of land it is, and don't see it as project for improvement, as I sadly did earlier. Now I  see the vanity in my plans with all those magnificent plant combinations; instead of showing off my 'creativity' and my 'gardening skills' (sad, but true...) everywhere in the garden, I now feel like I can just let it be, provide a comfortable bench and let the land and nature talk for themselves. Quite relaxing, actually, and definitely something to look forward to.

Another view from the seaside... Yes, the oak is growing directly into the house, but I can't bear the thought of taking it out as it gives such a lovely shade, no curtains needed. Under the oak there are several wild roses, and I've added some semi-wild rugosa hybrids that the deer won't eat, so the group blooms in white and shell pink tones in the early summer. The cliffs leading to the sea are full of wild lily-of-the-valleys, thousands of them growing in large drifts. And I was thinking of planting something here... how silly. On the other hand, the wooden deck (on the right side of the house in the picture) that functions as our outdoor dining area isn't a beauty exactly, so I might concentrate my efforts on "improving" it instead. Something in white would go well together with the house, but needs so much maintenance... and I would love to have a greenhouse, but the winds from the sea can be hard, and would probably be dangerous for the class panes.

View from the deck. This part of the garden dries almost completely every summer, so its usually kept as a dry meadow. The only problem is that tics love long grass; they don't thrive on anything mown, as they sit on the tops of the grass straws and prey for passing animals to attach themselves on. With two children and now a dog that is a real problem, but then, kids and dogs play everywhere and are likely to get some tics despite any preventive actions...Otherwise, lily-of-the-valleys and heathers thrive here together with wild roses and quite surprisingly given the dry soil, even wild raspberries.

Give me a power tool and I'll be happy for hours... Not really, but sometimes just basic things like blasting off five years worth of dirt from the outdoor furniture can be quite meditative.

 

This is what I mean with "providing a comfortable bench and letting the land and nature talk for themselves"... sometimes, that really is enough. I've placed a weathered bench (bought while we lived in Melbourne) on an old stone paving in the lower part of our garden, just before the high cliffs drop down to the sea (you can see the tall pines just disappearing, the tops barely showing on the right, but it is the cliffs that drop suddenly). This is a perfect spot for contemplating life in all its complexities... or for just lazy meditations. "Bredablick" is the name of our land, meaning "Wide View".