Blue skies at the red castle

Hello my friends, and welcome to the second episode of my Shropshire travelogue. Although, truth be told, we would turn our backs on Shropshire and head for Wales that day ...

After a restful night's sleep, we woke up to sunshine on Monday the 20th of June. Still not quite used to the time difference, we were wide awake before 6 am and were almost blinded by the fiery orange sun rising over the Long Mynd when we sneaked a peek through the curtains. 

But it was far too early to get up, so we snuggled back under the duvet and dozed until 7.45. Then, after enjoying the first of Jos's full English breakfasts, we entered that day's destination into our Satnav and went off.

In the weeks before our holiday we'd tossed around a couple of ideas, which included revisiting old favourites as well as venturing to pastures new. However, we hadn't made any definite plans on how to spend our days, wanting to let the weather and our moods be the deciding factors.

Monday, however, was an exception as, come rain or shine, our destination was set in stone. Preparing for our holiday, we'd ordered a National Trust Touring Pass a couple of weeks ago. As we'd planned to (re)visit quite a few of their properties, we thought that £ 77 for a 14-day pass admitting two was quite good value! We were duly sent a confirmation email which we had to present at our first property in order to get our pass, the only catch being that it could only be collected at a limited number of places. 

We were lucky enough that Powis Castle, which is a hop and a skip across the border in Wales, was among these.

Having visited the castle and its garden both in 2018 and 2019, this would be our third visit and, apart from a false start in June 2018, the sun has always regaled us with her presence here. This time too this beautiful part of the world didn't live up to its Wet Wales moniker!

After having parked our car and chatted to the nice parking assistants, we proceeded towards the ticket office and were promptly issued with our pass, which would prove to be worth its weight in gold. 

Walking up from the car park to the courtyard, we were greeted by the plaintive calls of the resident peacocks who wander among the tables hoping for a handout. The lead statue taking pride of place in the courtyard dates from the early 1700s and depicts the winged female figure of Fame borne by Pegasus. 

As we realized we hadn't brought our walking sticks - which we would definitely need to spare our backs and knees when exploring those terraced gardens - we bought some state-of-the-art extendable trekking poles. Then we joined the queue in the courtyard café and found ourselves a table in an alcove away from the café's hustle and bustle where we sipped cups of cappuccino and shared a Bakewell slice to keep us going.

Note that I was still wearing both my denim jacket and a cardigan at this point as it had seemed rather chilly when we stepped out of our car. With the mercury steadily climbing towards the mid-twenties, we'd be shedding layers as the day progressed!

Suitably restored, we made our way towards the garden's entrance, where we were supposed to show our tickets. If we were looking forward to proudly showing our temporary membership status, we were to be disappointed. The lady at the checkpoint turned out to be one of the parking assistants we'd chatted to earlier and as she remembered us - the perks of being dressed a little differently, I guess - she  waved us through with a smile and without so much as a peek at our spanking new pass!

Even after two previous visits, our first glimpse of the garden still took our breaths away with its theatrical mix of Italianate terraces, which were blasted out of the bare rock, its spectacular herbaceous borders, its mind-blowing topiary and its superb views.

And no, all these superlatives are not exaggerated in the least. After all, the garden is listed in the top twenty of the Great British Gardens guide. Apart from its unique historical setting, there's the skill of the exquisite planting, the estate being kept in impeccable order by a team of six full time gardeners and several volunteers, who ensure that that the garden is a delight in every season. 

From their position high up on the hillside, the views from the terraces across the garden, the deer park, the Severn Valley and, in the distance, the profiles of the Breidden Hills overlooking the nearby town of Welshpool, are truly spectacular. In fact, we found it impossible to tear our eyes away and I'm sure it won't surprise you if I tell you that my camera was working overtime.

Immediately noticeable as you arrive is the dusky red stone that makes the castle so striking, especially when outlined dramatically against a brilliant blue sky. 

Powis Castle was built in the mid-13th century by a Welsh prince - Gruffudd ap Gwenwynwyn - who wanted to establish his independence from his traditional enemies, the aggressive princes of Gwynedd in the North-West of Wales. 

The castle has been rebuilt several times and underwent intensive renovation by Sir Edward Herbert (1542–95), the second son of William Herbert, 1st Earl of Pembroke and Anne Parr (sister of Catherine Parr, the sixth wife of Henry VIII), who acquired the castle in 1587.

In the 18th century the title passed to the Clive family, although part of the inheritance was the stipulation that they should change their name to Herbert.  There was a thorough refurbishment of the castle in the early 19th century, and again in the early 20th century by George and Violet Herbert.  Sadly, they lost their two sons, one in WWI and another in WWII, so, as there was no immediate heir to inherit the estate, George Herbert left the castle, garden and part of the deer park to the National Trust in 1952.

One of the garden's most eye-catching features are its cloud-like clipped yews which tumble over the terraces and shelter rare and tender plants. There is a 30-foot-high yew hedge and 14 "tumps" dating back to the 17th century.

In late summer and early autumn the estate gardeners take to the air in a cherry-picker and spend several weeks trimming the topiary to ensure that the hedges continue to look spectacular for the next 12 months. 

Descending deeper and deeper into the garden, one by one its terraces are revealed like so many layers of an elaborate wedding cake. 

Lead statues of shepherds and shepherdesses are dancing on the balustrade of the Aviary Terrace and I'm travelling back in time to June 2019 when I found treasure beneath the feet of one of them.

The Aviary itself, where we briefly took shelter from the glare of the midday sun, and which once housed birds of prey, forms the centrepiece of the terrace and is arranged as an arcaded structure with 7 bays.

Below the Aviary Terrace is an Orangery with a grand 18th century stone doorway that was once the entrance to the castle itself.

 

By this time it was past 1 pm and we were getting peckish. Not having had the presence of mind to bring a picnic, there was nothing for it but to climb all the way up again to the courtyard, where we joined an even longer queue for lunch. 

As luck would have it, though, the table in the alcove where we'd had our elevenses was free, so we wasted no time in claiming it, taking the weight off our feet and stuffing ourselves with a couple of chicken salad sandwiches - choice had been rather limited this late in the day - and some soft drinks.

Then it was time for a visit to the castle itself. 

Photography isn't allowed inside, and would have been nearly impossible if it were, due to the heavy Jacobean panelling in many of the rooms and the permanently drawn curtains to prevent the damage caused by ultraviolet light on the precious furnishings.

The parking assistant lady, whom we assured we weren't following around, was now on duty at the castle and once again we were allowed in without having to show our pass.

Her colleague was on duty next door, a the Clive Museum, so we were waved through with a smile of recognition here as well. One of the UK’s most significant collections of Indian objects is displayed here. As major figures in Britain’s colonial East India Company, Robert Clive and his son Edward  looted many of these objects during their seizure of power in India and Myanmar and violent subsequent rule in the 18th century. However exquisite the exhibits are, the circumstances of their acquisition do leave a bit of a bitter taste in one's mouth, and we briefly whizzed through them.

Next up was a walk along the wooded ridge opposite the castle, known as the Wilderness. 

Here, things are far less formal than in the rest of the garden, with wildflowers growing in abundance, including some Spotted Orchids.

This is also the perfect place to admire the view of the castle and its wedding-cake-layer terraces across the Great Lawn.

Doesn't it look properly fairy-tale like - not to mention quite unreal - from this vantage point?

I couldn't resist posing as Lady of the Manor, looking for all the world as if I owned the joint, as someone on Instagram jokingly remarked. 

We were gasping for a cup of coffee by then, and confidently made our way towards the garden coffee shop where we rested our feet on a previous visit ... only to find it closed!

There was nothing for it but to continue with parched throats and weary feet, to arrive at the Fountain Garden,where various lawn chairs were waiting invitingly. 

While Jos was taking 40 winks, I took a closer look at the Bodley gates, flanked by pillars topped with wyverns (a legendary dragon-like creature), one of which is holding a severed hand in its mouth. The gates were commissioned by Violet, Lady Powis in 1912.

As the wife of the 4th Earl of Powis, Violet persuaded her husband to entrust the entire management of the deteriorating gardens at Powis Castle to her in 1911. Over the next 18 years, she effectively recreated the gardens of Powis into the internationally acclaimed ones they are today.

Having climbed all the way up again to the courtyard, we dashed into the café for that long awaited cup of coffee, which we once again had at our very own table in the alcove!

Before returning to our car, we had another browse in the shop, where Jos bought a well-needed compact man bag, and I was seduced into buying a bee brooch, screen printed on FSC certified birch wood. 

Half an hour's drive along the Anglo-Welsh border brought us back to Shropshire, and eventually to the cowshed, where I posed for some proper outfit photos.

The 1980s thin knit cap-sleeved jumper in hot pink patterned with tiny white squares at the yoke and shoulders was the only vintage item in my outfit. The skirt with its jungly green, pink, yellow and orange pattern was a cheeky retail buy a couple of months ago. Having already worn it a couple of times, it is set to become a wardrobe staple.

Both the chunky wooden necklace and green plastic birds brooch were retail buys as well and have been on regular rotation for well over 10 years. The belt was a charity shop find and the gold ballerinas I'd changed into when I got home were a gift from a friend who sadly passed away in 2019.

So, that's it for day 2. I hope you'll join me again for the next installment in a couple of days.