Winterscapes

It is snowing again, and I wonder when it will stop. I haven't experienced a winter like this for years. Last Friday, Alix told me that she was scared she would stay in when spring arrives. It is not as bad as in Berlin though, where a 10 cm crust of ice hasn't melt in 2 months. However I kind of like winter. Maybe not when it is raining, but on a crisp bright day the landscape is beautiful. Just go in a park and look at the trees. In my opinion, it is the best time of the year to identify them at a glance, or by looking at their buds and twigs, if you want to know the species. Playing 'spot the difference' with the children is a lot of fun. The London Plane (Platanus x acerifolia) develops with age a wide-spreading outline with massive branches, and finer twigs that look like lace. Multiple - usually borne in 2's or sometimes 3's - obovoid fruits are dangling from the branches. The bark looks like a camouflage fabric in soft shades of cream, olive and light brown. It is a little rough to the touch, and smooth at the same time. The tree is a cross between the American Plane (Platanus occidentalis) and the Oriental Plane (Platanus orientalis), which is a major feature to provide shade in Persian and other gardens of central and south Asia. I want to travel soon to both Isfahan and the Kashmiri valley to understand better the historic principles behind the gardens there.

Al Badi Palace

Badi means "marvelous, magnificent". In 1578, the Sultan Sa'adian Ahmad-al-Mansur (1549-1603) was enthroned, and he started to build this huge palace with open courtyards. Very quickly after his death the palace went into disrepair, and was destroyed, in 1710, by the Alaouite Sultan Mawlay Ismail who used the Italian marble and the gold from Sudan for his palace in Meknes. Last year, returning from India, I developed an interest in Islamic gardens. Gardens are a great path to learn about the history and customs of different cultures. Al- Badi is very interesting, as it has not yet been restored. Therefore, it was easy to observe the traditional watering system. The sunken beds, would have been planted with scented plants, with utilitarian values. In this case, I believe, orange and lemon trees (Citrus sp) were planted in array, so the top of their canopies would just reach the level of the paved walkway. The basins were fitted with a split water channel, which arms would be blocked to divert the water in the basin requiring the irrigation. This system is clever, as the moisture is longer conserved by the canopy of the trees. Max found the noise of the stokes much more interesting than my explanations.

Flow

One of my favourite features of Londinium is the river Thames. As far back I can remember I have always been fascinated by urban rivers, which I explain by the fact that my hometown's river, la Senne, has been built over. I have crossed most London bridges, at least once, by foot or by car. It doesn't matter, as long as I can admire the continuous and calm flow of the Thames. Rivers are sacred for me.water is the source of life, historically and biologically. Most civilisation have developed along a river that provided them with food, drink, power and transport. Biologically, they support a great deal of wildlife, macro- and microorganisms, forming the food chain. Symbolically, they are very important to me. A long time ago, a total stranger I met in MachuPichu, and who could read me like a book (to this day the encounter remains a mystery to me), advised me to look at rivers to understand life. I pretty quickly tired of looking at the Urubamba River, and didn't think of it until seeing the Ganges in Rishikesh, where it comes to the plains from the hills. We followed it uphill, and the thought came back, making sense now... The water always get around the stones to eventually reach the sea. I believe the flow of life is very similar.

Food

It's winter and cold. I feel ravenous most of the time. My primal instinct of hunter-gatherer has resurfaced. And London is a paradise for foodies. Walking certainly helps me to conceive food for thoughts and to discover places for foodies. Best coffee in London is sold at the Algerian Coffee Store in Old Compton Street. Check their website, you can buy on line. Italian deli, Lina Store, sells the best fresh ravioli. My favourite are those stuffed with crayfish. It makes a perfect quick lunch with a simple rocket salad. I try to buy seasonal fruits and vegetables in farmer markets. They taste much better than any (organic or not) that has been stored in a fridge for several weeks. The best part of it all is talking with small shop keeper, who will oblige and reveal food tips and cooking secrets...

A date with Leon

Yesterday I had an exciting date with my friend Leon. He is the 20 months son of my "Vals" friends, whose hospitality I abuse without shame. A date with Leon is always exciting. He is a breath of fresh air, and he forces me to take a different look at life. We went for an afternoon walk to the pond in Kensington Garden. The goal was too stare at the ducks and other water foils. The walk from the gate to the pond took us at least three times the time it would usually take me. Leon walks with a purpose: the ducks, but it doesn't stop him to look and marvel at everything. He has a curious mind and sees everything. Like most children he is fascinated by the squirrels, and approach them as close as he can. But his favourite game is too push down worm cast, or running away from us to show his disappointment as we didn't bring any stale bread to feed the birds.

Hanway Street

Not long ago, as I was botanising and sociologising (I know it is not a verb but I like it!) on the asphalt, I got side tracked to Hanway Street. Number 22 was playing a good tune of old rock & roll, the door was open, and I could not resist but go in. I had a brief encounter with the owner, Tim, and even bought a second-hand book on rock journalism. Nick is a character, and I decided to go back, take a picture, and have a chat with him. I found some time this afternoon, and this is the result. He wasn't reluctant about the pic or the chat, which was the funniest I've had in a long time. Tim has been selling records in the shop since 1979, and it is my idea of Ali Baba's sesame... To my question "Why did you open a music record shop?" he answered: "Bad luck..wrong time,wrong place...prison sentence" (giggles) -"what do you mean?" - "I live my life in a box, but could be worst like Mc Donald" ( more giggles) -" You must have seen so many people in 30 years" -" I don't recognise people" -"What you did not recognise me today?" - "How could I forget you?" (very sarcastic giggles)

Indian Horse Chestnut

Aesculus indica is one of my favourite horse chestnut. I have a special relationship with this tree and I can't forget its name or its appearance. Some may think because its country of origin - the Indian Himalayas - and it may well be one of the reasons. The story starts at the end of my first year in Kew. The flowers had long withered, and the unripe fruits were dangling from its branches. An old couple of visitors asked me the name of this tree, rightly pointing that the fruit looked like a fig, but that all other features were far from any fig tree they knew. I didn't have the time to look for the label when I heard Greg, head of the training section, shouting with contempt: "It is an INDIAN HORSE CHESTNUT". It was so shameful , I will never forget. The only thing I can tell is that I took a very close look at the tree, and went back to learn all its seasonal features. I was reward as I recognise it everywhere last year in the Himalayan foothills. The conkers are very similar in shape to the European Horsechestnut (A. hippocastaneum), just darker and rougher. A smaller eye - I like to call it the third eye - is drawn within the buckeye's white centre. This tree is, to my taste, the finest of the genus. The flowers bloom a little later than most species, and the summer foliage is a lustrous dark green that changes to orange/red in autumn. This tree has an undefinable poise. I have often observed its resistance to the Horsechestnut leaf miner (Cameraria ohridella), which is another good reason to be planted. And sometimes, when I look at a flower like that, all the misery and nonsense vanish, as by magic...