Since arriving in London back at the end of February we have strolled past a fenced off garden called the Chelsea Physic Garden probably on forty or fifty occasions . And each time we pass by we say to each other, you know we should drop in there one day and check the place out. (At least, that's what Julia said to me. I just kinda nodded in response as to be honest the thought of wandering around a plant garden holds as much interest to me as the thought of having to ride a horse, eating cauliflower or consuming trifle).
Anyway, to cut a long story short, that afternoon Julia blindsided me out of nowhere and having moved too slowly on an immediate alternative Plan B, we agreed that this was the day.
You guys may be aware of the history surrounding this garden, established back in 1763 by the Society of Apothecaries to ensure their apprentices could learn to grow medicinal plants and study their uses.
And two hundred and forty nine years later we have dropped in, forked out our nine quid (per head, you can't get off that easily) and then proceeded to check the place out.
To be fair, on the "level of interest meter" in advance of the event I would have given this prospect a one out of ten. However once there, natural curiosity took over and after an hour or so I was feeling pretty good about the place.
Having viewed every plant in sight and any number of forgettable sculptures, we thought that prior to leaving we would sit back in one of the many park benches scattered around the place and just take in the atmosphere and the autumnal sunshine.
Out of the corner of my eye I spot the perfect possie right down the end of a path and off we stroll in the general direction of this perfectly positioned bench.
We had just plonked ourselves down and were quietly relaxing when about a minute on, I spot this very elderly couple frantically waving at us whilst charging (more like stumbling) in our general direction. Well, to be more accurate, heading straight at us like a couple of first world war missiles disguised as old people.
Maybe ten seconds later, this couple come to a shuddering and very shaky halt right in front of our outstretched legs, then the old guy stammers "you can't sit there. Stand up. Stand up before you do any further damage".
What to do? When someone that old demonstrates that much agitation you have very little choice other than to immediately comply with their demands, irrespective of whether you know what the hell is going on.
So I look at this couple and say, what's the problem?
And the old woman then blurts out " It's the Lichen, you are sitting on it, you are killing it!"
At this point we both burst out laughing and I say " I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about."
Then the old guy stammers "Read the sign, read the sign, it tells you you can't sit on this bench, and you were."
My turn , and I respond "What sign?" as I look around for a sign.
And the guy says, "The sign on the bench, the one you had your back against when you were sitting on this bench which you shouldn't have sat on in the first place"
At this point we both turn around and we both start showing some real interest in this bench and obviously spot this rather small sign, a sign so small that to be honest you would have to go hunting for to find in the first place.
We then turn back to these guys, and I say," look, no problem, we didn't see the sign, and if we did, we wouldn't have sat there and would have chosen an alternative pew. Thanks for pointing it out to us."
The old woman just couldn't let it go with our heart felt apology , so her parting shot to us was" I just hope you haven't destroyed this very important Lichen experiment."
I should have just slunk off at that point but I thought, stuff these old self appointed 'Lichen Security Guards' so I looked at the old guy and said, "tell me , if you think my wife and myself were committing some kind of plant crime, what about those Americans on the other side of the garden who were secretly taking plant cuttings out of sight maybe ten minutes back."
In a nano second these old guys' faces drained of all remaining signs of blood and whilst at the same time going rigid ,like Pointers who have sighted ducks
The old dude screams "WHAT, TAKING CUTTINGS, BLOODY FOREIGNERS"
And with that he was off like a shot, dragging his wife behind him.
At that point I suggested to Julia that maybe we had done this garden to death. Julia agreed and we exited via a side door.
I tell you, it doesn't matter where you go in London. You will never be bored. There's action aplenty around every corner.
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