Episode 27 Gardeners' World

Hello. Welcome to Gardeners' World.

We've got a beautiful day today, so I want to use every minute of it.

I shall begin by planting out some roses to scramble up

the apple trees, and also some clematis to give me colour,

from early in spring right through into autumn.

Carol will also be looking at clematis,

from the climbers in the hedgerows

to the fantastic choice available for the gardener.

Whether you like to meet your clematis on a country walk

or you want to grow the most ornamental and decorative species

in your garden, every single clematis

has got something very special to offer.

Wow!

And Rachel is visiting a Bristol couple, who don't let their

small garden stop them from having big ideas.

I've been longing to see this garden cos I've heard so much about it.

How big is it?

We're just 15 feet by 31. But we're about a mile high.

And I'll also be planting my garlic.

Now this is what I've always called the writing garden,

but it hasn't been much of a garden because it's just been long grass.

I decided that I wanted to plant it up.

What I love about this is in May, when you have the apple blossom

and you have the cow parsley and it has a lightness

and a frothiness, and it's just a magical week or so,

but I wanted more than that and the grass is pretty rough

and it lost its magic quite quickly.

So we've dug it up, added lots of compost, rotivated it in,

and now it's ready for planting,

and the first plant that I'm going to put into this white, light,

frothy garden is a rose.

It's a rambler rose called Wedding Day.

It has white flowers, masses of them,

and will scramble right up into this tree,

which is an apple tree called a Herefordshire Beefing,

and I'm going to plant it on this side,

so it climbs up and sprawls through.

Now, Wedding Day is very good for slightly shaded areas,

poor soil and climbing into trees, so this is perfect.

You can see I'm quite a long way from the tree.

Planting any climber, you want to get away from

the thing that it's climbing up

and with a tree, of course it's sharing the same space as the roots,

so I'd say a good metre away

and because it's pot-grown, very simple,

just dig a hole.

This has had lots of compost added to it.

The advantage of planting at this time of year is that

it gives the roots a chance to grow away,

so when the top growth begins next spring,

the roots are that much bigger and more established.

But you can plant roses any time between now and next March.

When you plant any rose,

plant it deeper than the level it's in the pot,

so I like to plant them so that they're a good inch deeper

and this means you've got less chance of suckers

and also sometimes with roses, they can rock and damage the roots

before the roots have got out and established,

so plant them good and deep.

You can see that's angled towards the tree.

I'll put a longer cane in and tie it to the tree there,

so it can climb up that and then it will work its way in.

The next rose I'm going to put in is a lot smaller.

It's also white, it's called Sander's White.

It has the most fantastic fragrance, so I've chosen it to be near

the writing hut and it's ideal if you've got a smaller garden

or a smaller tree like this one.

The rose I'm putting in will only grow to about ten foot - perfect.

It's got the most wonderful white flowers that smell divine.

Everybody loves roses. There are lots to choose from.

I suppose the other climber which people always love in their garden

are clematis, and Carol's been to seek clematis both growing

in the wild, and also a wonderful collection up in Lancashire.

If you're out on a country winter walk, along hedgerows and byways,

you're almost certain at some stage to come across the great, big

fluffy heads of Clematis vitalba.

It can grow to about 40 feet, but it never ever does that on its own.

It invariably uses a host up which to climb.

One of its country names is "old man's beard".

Old man in this case probably alludes to the devil because it can

be a devilish plant, strangulating the host it's decided to climb up.

Clematis vitalba.

It's an incredibly vigorous, you could almost say virile, plant,

but its flowers are in complete contrast.

They have this wonderful fragility, this kind of delicacy.

From these lovely pearl-like buds open up these dainty flowers.

Not far away from the rambling grounds of Bank Hall

is an immaculate garden, home to a national collection of clematis.

It's been lovingly created by Richard and Irene Hodgson.

The clematis are shown to their best advantage,

yet there's not a wall nor a fence in sight.

In the wild, they do go through host trees, through shrubs,

so we sort of grow them through roses, through shrubs.

We don't like to see them tied up like a sack of potatoes.

They sort of scramble and more often than not they end up

where we don't intend them to go.

They start off here and they'll end up over there.

You seem to allow them to be themselves.

You've got to give them plenty of space, plenty of headroom

and they'll reward you with plenty of flowers.

What is it about viticellas in particular that you admire?

We love them because they are compatible with all the other plants

that we grow in the garden here.

We now have 99 different cultivars and species in the collection.

There are clematis in the garden that I've never seen before, Richard.

Where do you get them all from?

We get them mostly from the benefits of the worldwide web and the www,

and I'm on there virtually every evening of my life sleuthing,

as I call it, which is where we source different clematis

and seeds from friends more or less around the world.

With the viticellas, the first year you plant them, you look after them,

you feed them, you water them, and they don't do anything.

But the second year, they make a lot more new growth,

they make a bigger root system so you get more stems,

and then the third year, they more or less explode.

I think the thing that mystifies most people about clematis is,

when do you prune them?

Basically, anything that flowers before June, we do not prune.

Quite simple to remember.

So the montanas, the large flowered hybrids, you don't prune them.

The later flowering ones like these viticellas that you see here,

prune them hard back in February.

I tell everybody to prune them back to the floor on February 14th.

-That's Valentine's Day.

-Correct.

You do what is called the Valentine's Day Massacre.

You go round the garden and you prune all the clematis down to

the floor, and that's your pruning finished for the year.

-It's so simple, it's unbelievable.

-It is, isn't it!

-Yeah.

Not only is Richard a past master at gathering his clematis

from every corner of the world,

but he's also an absolute impresario when it comes to

putting them together and finding the exact right place to plant them.

This is the clematis that they call the "orange peel clematis".

You can really feel that lovely waxy texture.

Witness these beautiful silken seedheads.

But as if that wasn't good enough,

he's also included this lovely clematis viticella.

This is one called Kiev.

But isn't that just an inspired combination?

These big flat purple flowers with the drooping gorgeous tangutica.

Purple and yellow together again is a winning combination.

This clematis viticella - Etoile Violette.

This time it's chosen as its host this Potentilla fruticosa.

It's a ubiquitous shrub but it somehow ups the ante

to have this lovely clematis growing through it,

and could you have planned a more fitting combination

than that of these citric yellow Potentilla petals

just licking up the yellow of the anthers and the deep purple clematis?

It's perfect.

Whether you like to meet your clematis on a country walk

or you want to grow the most ornamental and decorative species

in your garden, there's absolutely no doubt

that every single clematis has got something very special to offer.

I certainly shall be planting clematis here in the writing garden,

and I'll start with a clematis that is for spring.

I love Clematis alpina.

They're tough, they're beautiful,

and I've got one here which is Albiflora, which is white,

which will fit in with the whole theme of the writing garden,

which is white, beautiful flowers.

Now, unlike roses, which actually adapt very well to almost any soil,

clematis do noticeably better in certain conditions.

What they like is water-retentive, quite loose soil

and the best way to achieve that

is to put lots of organic matter beneath them.

Now this is very water-retentive clay.

Nevertheless, I'm going to dig out a decent size hole

and put in a good load of compost.

Right. That's the size of pot.

And that's the size of hole - about four times as big.

And that means I can get plenty of compost in.

I'm using quite a coarse compost.

Anything you put in the bottom wants to be quite loose and rough,

straw-y compost, half-made compost absolutely ideal

because it holds the moisture better.

So we'll pop back like that.

The next stage is to give it a frame.

A good strong support because when this gets going,

it's a tower of flower.

You can't really mulch them too much.

Keep the roots cool and moist

and the top growth will be really healthy and happy.

That's the first one.

Now the other clematis I'm going to plant is this one.

It's Clematis flammula.

As well as having beautiful, delicate,

star-like flowers, it smells of honey.

Really fragrant and lovely,

and it will follow on from the Sander's White rose,

so we'll get the continuity of white frothy flower

and fragrance, just outside the hut - exactly what I want.

Right, give that a really good soak.

Mulch it and let it get on with it.

Although they look quite healthy now,

in fact I've had a terrible year for courgettes.

This is how they should've been two months ago.

Given that we're in the middle of October, it's downhill all the way.

There are young plants coming through,

but unless it's blazing hot for the next week or two, it's a write-off,

and I need this piece of ground cos I want to put my garlic in,

so with reluctance, I'm going to remove the whole lot,

and just put it down to a bad year.

Now, they should come up reasonably easily.

When you're planting garlic,

break open the bulbs and just plant the outside cloves.

And really, the bigger the clove, the better the garlic will be.

And when you're putting them in the ground,

use a dibber or your finger, and bury them.

This is not like onion sets where you have the top sticking out.

And space them about four inches apart.

Now, the sooner you get garlic in in the autumn,

the bigger the head will be.

The middle of September is not too early,

and I definitely like to have all garlic planted by Christmas.

All garlic needs at least a month in the ground

below ten degrees centigrade

in order to form a head with separate cloves.

Not a problem for the average British winter,

but the earlier you get it in,

the more chance there is of that happening.

Now, the next garlic I'm going to plant is an absolute whopper.

Elephant garlic is enormous, like a large onion,

and that is a single clove,

and although it's so big, it's actually milder in flavour

than normal garlic. In fact, it's not garlic at all.

It's much more closely related to the leek,

and the taste is somewhere between leek and garlic.

It's subtle, delicious and I think more people should grow it,

and it's very easy to grow - in exactly the same way as garlic.

In the ground, nice and deep,

but a little bit wider apart,

so I would say a good nine inches for each of these.

I learnt a good recipe the other day from Richard Sandford,

who I went to visit in his garden in Berkshire.

He's vegan, and he told me that he makes a drink from roasted tomatoes,

raw elephant garlic - a whole clove like that -

all whizzed up together, and it sounds to me delicious,

like a combination of a Virgin Mary and gazpacho.

I'm now mulching with compost.

It improves soil and improves the garlic.

You can see that this pumpkin has already been touched by frost,

and it's now time to start thinking about protecting tender plants.

If you can, bring them in under cover.

Things like the citrus that I've got round here,

and pelargoniums that I've got in the courtyard,

I want to put in the greenhouse, but before I can do that,

I've got to make some room.

Of course, at this time of year,

you're having to create space by losing something.

You're not going to lose your chillies, because those will

go on producing fresh fruit right up until Christmas,

but on things like tomatoes...

These are a few tomatoes that I had in pots that DIDN'T get blight.

They've done quite well but it's over,

so what I would suggest is if you've got some tomato plants,

harvest the ripe or nearly-ripe ones

and put them on a windowsill, and they'll ripen fine.

The green ones, which are never going to get red in here,

put them in a dark drawer and they will slowly ripen. Chuck a banana in and they'll ripen even quicker.

If you've got some cucumbers, or even melons, as I have here,

well, they can come in and they can ripen on a windowsill, too.

So, let's get on with it.

Now, I'm making compromises so I can accommodate

my various tender plants,

but Rachel's been to see a couple in Bristol who've managed

to create an incredible exotic jungle in a tiny garden.

I've come to the outskirts of Bristol to visit a garden

with a massive reputation.

I've heard that it instantly transports you

to a far more exotic place.

Right, now, I've got an address.

So I think... Ah, I don't think I'm going to need the address.

Look at this. Spilling out onto the street!

'This urban jungle is the creation of Jen and Gary Ellington.'

What an entrance.

Hello?

I'll just go through.

'For the last six years,

'they've been creating this little pocket of paradise.'

Wow!

-You must be Gary.

-I sure am.

-Hello, there. Really nice to meet you.

-Lovely to meet you. And Jen? Hello!

-Hello, Rachel. How are you?

I must say, I've been longing to see this garden

because I've heard so much about it.

How big is it? It's really hard to tell.

We're quite small on the ground.

We're just 15ft by 31ft, but we're about a mile high.

It is a small space but it feels enormous.

I'm just wondering how on earth you manage to actually tend these plans.

Are you contortionists?

How do you get through there?

We've got two bridges which look ornamental,

but they are there for a purpose,

and that is how we actually get to the other side of the garden.

-That's how YOU do it.

-Yes.

-How do YOU do it, then?

-I tend to fall in.

But I have long sticks, sticks with grabby bits on the end,

which is very useful,

because things need poking or just jungle-taming, really.

Do you have quite distinct roles?

Do you do one thing and then Jen is in charge of another part of it?

Yes, well, basically, I do all the woodwork, the maintenance,

-the painting and the heave-ho.

-All the hard work.

-Oh, yes!

While Jen does the designing of the actual garden. She's very good at it.

Sometimes it's like I always say to her, "Where's that going to go?

"That can't go in there!"

And she says, "That's not a problem," and then she makes me fit it in

and then I look around and it's fitted and looks beautiful.

-So would you say she slightly gets the last word?

-Um... Oh, yes.

Thank you!

I'm really intrigued about the style of the garden,

the fact that you've gone for this wonderfully exotic tropical feel.

Is that both of you, or has that come from one of you?

I was lucky enough to spend lots of time in the Caribbean,

and I lived in Africa for several years,

so these are the plants I was used to growing.

I like the British plants very much as well,

but I just love all of the big, bold, vivid colours

and the shapes of the leaves, the rate of growth.

It always amazes me, every year.

Everywhere you look, you've got these wonderful fossils

on the pathways, and lots of different textures and shapes.

You know, the mulch with the shells and the pebbles.

I used shells and things because I find

that they're very useful for catching water,

-which keeps the humidity up for the plants.

-Ah! Very clever.

It really helps, so apart from looking pretty,

because these are shells I've collected on my travels...

As I'm looking at them I'm remembering beautiful days.

Although the garden looks exotic, many plants like Fatsia japonica

will thrive outside all year round in the British climate.

These are planted directly in the ground, but the tender

plants are put in pots so they can be moved and brought indoors,

and these are stacked one on top of the other to make use of all

the vertical space in the garden.

You've got a lot of quite tender plants in here.

How do you cope with them over winter, because it is not as if

you've got a huge greenhouse you can move them into, so what do you do?

Well, we roll the red bananas, the Abyssinians, into the house,

and then we tip them upright, pull the leaves down so they're

splaying over, and that's where we usually have our Christmas dinner.

-Wow.

-Oh, yes.

Well, we do do the fairy lights occasionally as well, yeah,

which does look... It sounds awful but looks really super.

I have to say, I think it's the most magical place.

-It has a real sense of the two of you.

-Oh, yes.

I'll never speak to somebody again with a small garden who says,

"I've got a tiny space so I can't do anything with it, you know..."

Oh, I don't allow that here. I don't want to hear any more of that.

-No, you're not. You're just not using your vertical space.

-Yes.

-Yes.

-When you can't go out, go up.

-That's very true.

Funnily enough, I met Jen and Gary at a talk I gave

a couple of weeks ago, so it's lovely to see their garden.

It's tempting to put a plant like this indoors,

because it looks lovely, but resist the temptation.

Citrus don't like British houses in midwinter.

It's too dark, it's too warm and it's too dry.

A greenhouse is ideal, particularly if it's heated

so it doesn't get frosty, and if you do want it indoors,

bring it in for a week or two over Christmas

but then take it back to the greenhouse.

Another Mediterranean plant that I'm anxious not to lose

through cold are my scented-leaf pelargoniums.

These are plants that will keep going for years and years

if you look after them.

So it's worth taking a little bit of preventative action.

See, I'd be very sad to leave a plant like this Lady Plymouth.

Beautiful, and this will...

Oh, fantastic scent.

Now, unlike citrus, these can go indoors.

If you've got a sunny windowsill,

this is perfect, and makes a lovely house plant.

This has finished flowering, so I'm going to reduce this by half.

Then I can put it below the bench,

where it'll get enough light.

The important thing with these is

cut back on the water, you cut back on the heat,

and if need be, you cut back on the light, to reduce the growth.

Now, you may not have pelargoniums. You may not have citrus.

You may not have a greenhouse.

But here are some jobs you CAN be getting on with this weekend.

It's been a hard season for asparagus.

Whatever your asparagus is like,

cut back all top growth now to stop any risk of root damage,

and then cover the ground with as thick a layer of compost

as you can spare,

and the more generous you are with this,

the better the results will be next spring.

Check any cuttings you've taken in the last month or two.

If they've rooted, you'll see signs of root at the base of the pot,

and fresh growth.

Pinch them back to encourage nice bushy plants,

and pot them on individually, and place them somewhere protected

and you'll have nice, strong plants for next spring.

Pears are a treat but it's been a bad year for them,

so doubly important to look after those you have.

Check them for ripeness by lifting each fruit to the horizontal,

and if it's ready, it'll come away in your hand.

If not, gently lower it again.

Once they're picked, store them in a cool, dark place, like apples.

You can increase ripening by putting some on a sunny windowsill.

Check these daily, and when they're ready, cancel everything,

because they have to be eaten straight away.

One of the stars in the Jewel Garden at this time of year

is the monkshood, the aconitum.

It's subtle and it's slightly muted, but such a reliable performer.

The slugs and snails won't touch it,

so you know it is going to produce that blue, and after all,

that's the rarest colour in the whole garden at this time of year.

When I made the pond here,

I knew the quinces would reflect in the water,

and also, quinces traditionally were grown by the edge of the water.

However, I'd not really thought how I was going to harvest the fruit,

and this is a first for me - to go quince-picking in waders.

'Quinces make anything that you cook them with taste better.

'They're fabulous with meat,

'and if you add just one quince to an apple dish - apple pie,

'apple crumble, stewed apple - there's a kind of depth

'of fruity fragrance that really is like nothing else.'

Much smaller harvest than last year,

but every single one will be treasured.

The best fruit there is.

And that's it for this week,

but, of course, I'll be back at the same time next Friday,

so I'll see you then. Bye-bye.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd