Tuesday, 15 February 2011

A Happy Place

If I were ever to lie on a couch and recount memories from a 'happy place', Kew gardens would be in my top 5. the others would probably be
  • My grans house in St Ives Camb's
  • Paris
  • South Kensington and Knightsbridge
  • Bramham Park

They are the handful of places where my memories are not tainted by mothers abuse and her volcanic rows with my father, they are places where even now it feels like being wrapped in a warm blanket of well being.

My grans house is a no brainer it was just a slice of chaotic heaven,

Paris? as a child my father went there on a work jaunt and took us with him, we stayed in a wonderful hotel in the center of Paris, my sisters were still just eggs waiting to hatch and so mothers love was relatively unconditional, I had a separate sleeping area and each morning a maid would bring me on a tray a croissant and a silver pot of hot chocolate, it was to this 4 year old beyond wonderful to start the morning like this, on the last morning as the maid greeted me like she had done every morning with a "Bonjour" I repeated it back to her, she left with the broadest of smiles at her success in winkling out some french from what was a shy toddler. Mother and I spent endless hours in parks, she would sit whilst I hunted down any child to play with and for me no matter what, Paris will always have that feel good factor.

South Kensington was where my father worked and I always loved pressing the buttons in the science museum next door and as for Harrods, as a child it was paradise. If I ever won the lottery I would buy a house in Belgravia and die a happy woman.

Bramham Park was where I would escape from my mother wrath, for years it gave me a safe haven filled with everything I needed to fuel my imagination.

Finally Kew, clearly my parents felt the karma of this amazing place too because in all our visits I do not remember any arguments at all and even now after numerous visits it still does it for me, walking down from the tube and my anticipation is palpable.

The visit was a resounding success, I managed to get numerous shots for my project and I have left you my flotsam and jetsam!


La Belette Rouge said...

I didn't have gardens/parks to escape to as a child. There was a tree that I used to visit. I envy your childhood memories in Paris. It sounds like a magical time. I did have a happy place in my grandmother's house, unhappily I had to sometimes share my grandmother with my immediate family( it was always better when it was just the two of us).
Love this post.

indigo16 said...

I am jealously fought over by my children who love the one to one time, I am sure as they get older they are the memeories they will cherish. My favourite time however is when I walk the dog! My one to one time where no one answers back!!

materfamilias said...

Not sure what I like best in this great post, your memories of happy places or your glorious photographs. That childhood memory of Paris is full of delightful comforting detail, but I love the description of your grandma's house: "a slice of chaotic heaven"!