Top 50 Gardens In Britain | 50 Shades Of Green With Alan Titchmarsh | Sprout

I haven't been here, on this spot, in these allotments, since 1950-something. My first memories are of gardening with my grandfather. This lovely walrus moustache. And that's me, aged one and a bit. And this was taken here. So I've now got to try and find the plot. It's 70 years since I was born in Ilkley. Where is it? Where I was first introduced to gardening. I think it was sort of over here. This really feels right. It was about here. It's quite wonderful to come back to the peace of earth. My granddad cultivated and therefore I must have dabbled with a trowel, a tiny trowel, on this spot. Oh, it's really... Oh, it's a really strong atmosphere, and lovely. It feels... And there's, like, the sun shining on me. It's like... I don't know. Granddad saying, hello, you're back. Thanks to those childhood summer days... Oh, this is astonishing. ..I've developed an unwavering passion... Look! ..for all things green. See, these are what I rave about. Ta-da! I rather love a combination of different greens. At 20, I left home to learn my trade. And now, after more than half a century of gardening, I want to share with you my 50 favourite things. Here you are. Hello again. You came for flowers and you've ended up with animals. That's all right. I'm very versatile. From the wonders of nature... I've never seen one with a girth on it like this. ..to astonishing discoveries. Cornish garden on a June day by the sea. Oh, it's wonderfully fresh. ..and everything in between. You've passed with flying colours. Mary Berry says I'm a good cook. Oh, my goodness! Would you look at that? This is my very own 50 shades of green. We begin in a garden that's visited by nearly two million people every year. What brought me here was an early love affair with greenhouses. Well, let me explain. I built my first one out of polythene in the back garden when I was 12. Then, when I went to work in the Parks Department nursery at 15, old Harry sold me his old one. We brought it home. I mean, dismantled it on a handcart. And Harry said, you know, you should really get yourself an education. Go to Kew Gardens. So I did. And I ended up working in there. Now, that's a greenhouse. This is the Palm House in London's Kew Gardens, one of six epic glass structures that are the diamonds in this garden's crown. It houses hundreds of the world's most treasured plants, and it was my job to look after some of them. It is really hot and steamy up here. I feel as if I've just stepped off a plane to Singapore. Forgive the perspiration. But that's what it was like working here in the early 1970s. I come back now and I can remember that initial thrill, which has never left me. Still a special, magical place. So, just imagine my shock when, on my very first day, I was put in charge of the rarest plant in the world. It's now in the Temperate House, under the care of Scott. And here it is. Here you are. Hello again. 50 years on. Has it grown much in 50 years? Do you want to know? Yeah. I can tell you how much Encephalatus woodii grows in 50 years. About half as much. Wow! It was about there, and it's grown about three feet. That's impressive. We measured it not so long ago. It's 2.44 metres now. When I was put in charge of this, they said, now, look, this is the only one of its kind in the world. Don't kill it. Now, can you imagine? It's a big plant. It was brought over here in the 19th century and they're telling me not to kill it. It's terrifying, isn't it? We've had generations of gardeners looking after it and they all get told exactly the same message. Whatever you do, don't kill it, because it is priceless. Can you imagine if I'd actually killed it? You may not be where you are today, Alan. It would have been in queue history books. It comes from dry South Africa, so my biggest fear was over-watering it. It does like when it does get watered to get a nice, good soak. So all the way around... Yeah, the trouble is, having not killed it 50 years ago, this isn't the watering that finishes it off. You and I go back such a long way. You're one plant whose name I shall never forget. You know, there have been several girlfriends along the way whose names I've forgotten, but I shan't forget yours. Encephalartos woodii. There you are. You'll enjoy that. But there's more to these glorious glasshouses than just protecting rare plants. Behind them is something huge that you don't see, because these gardens are devoted, really, to just one simple thing. Saving the planet. The visitors who come here are helping to support 350 scientists doing life-changing research on plants growing all over the world. Plants aren't just food. They underpin our medicines, our building materials, our ecosystems. Without plants, you know, there is no life. And so it's up to places like Kew to conserve them. These six spectacular glasshouses symbolise the vital role Kew plays in the preservation and study of plants. Without them, thousands of species from around the world would be lost forever. For my night's shades of green, I'm celebrating three incredible but short-lived moments in gardens. Blink and you'll miss them. My favourite time to visit Sheringham Park in Norfolk is in the six weeks from May through to early June, when over 80 rhododendron species all bloom in unison, creating a magical carpet of colour. If you're cruising down the A272 near Petersfield in early June, keep your eyes peeled. You might catch this rare sight of hundreds of wild lupins flowering beside Towick Church. But the shortest yet most spectacular sight I know of can be found at Bodnard Garden in North Wales. There are moments in gardens when you just get a wow factor and when you see this, it just takes your breath away. This is Bodnard's famous arch. 48 laburnum trees that all flower at once every May. People plan their holidays around it and they just have to come and see it at this moment in time. Although this is flowering for a three-week period, I would say there's only five days when all the flowers are out at their maximum level and that will give you a memory that will last a lifetime. One thing I've loved for as long as I can remember is vegetable gardens. There's the majestic kitchen garden at Helmingham Hall in Suffolk. It's grand enough to feed a king. It even has its own moat. Rabbits don't like moats, so they don't swim, so we don't have a rabbit problem, really. And I also love the ingenious way this kitchen garden in London's King's Cross maximises growing space by using skips as giant raised beds. But my favourite veg patch is at Rousham House in Oxfordshire and I've brought along my friend and fellow grow-your-own enthusiast Mary Berry to have a look. Oh, I like this. You've brought your own. Bit of all right? Bit of all right. The beds in this ancient kitchen garden are brimming with produce. It's been in the family, this garden, for 400 years. 1600s. This is magnificent, just as it was. And we can't wait to get our hands dirty. Hold it. Isn't that exciting? Isn't that a lovely moment? Now, just look at those. They're very fresh. And you can peel them just by touching the skin. It comes off. So what are your first memories of veg growing? Well, Dad spent a lot of time, it was in the war, and... Ooh, look, a lovely lot there. And he grew what we wanted to eat. Nothing was wasted. We particularly liked celery, and he would bank it up and wrap it in newspaper and then bank it in soil, a bit like these potatoes. We had goats, and the cream from the milk Mum would make into butter. It was in a sort of a glass thing, and you turned a handle. You got so little butter at the end of it, but at least it was butter, because it was rationed. Yeah, yeah. One of my favourite veg growing tricks I learned from an old next-door neighbour almost 50 years ago. Pass me that biscuit tin, right? Are we having elevenses? What's that? Looks like saltpeter. It's sand. It's just damp sand. And if I put these potatoes in there... This is buried treasure. It's sort of buried treasure alike. There you are. Drop it in here. Drop it in the hole. And then all the way over the top. Oh, there's some more potatoes in there we missed. And you can leave that in there, mark it, till Christmas Day, and bring it out on Christmas Day, and those potatoes will have stayed stored. New potatoes at Christmas. Fancy teaching Mary Berry something she doesn't know. Now, come on, I don't believe you. Have you really tried this? Yes, I do it, yeah. I'm not coming back here for Christmas, but I shall go home and do it. Oh, OK. And the phone will ring, Alan, on Christmas Day, if they're awful. I thought it might. My grandfather had a novel tip for growing cabbages. Now, salt and water don't mix very readily, so you've got to keep at this for a while. I'll pop it in the processor. That's the way round it. He used his garden syringe. I have seen one, I think, in a museum, something that you use. Thank you so much, Mary, I ought to be in a museum. To give them a sooty wash. Can I have a go? Have a go, go on, have a go. Splendid, isn't it? But why are we doing it? He was doing this to stop the caterpillars from eating his brassicas, his cabbages, his cauliflower, his Brussels sprouts, and they were all covered in this black water, so we didn't want to eat them either. The other thing Mary and I have in common is that we both love to cook what we grow. Now, this is a real turn-up for the books, because you are the chef. A real role reversal. I'm really enjoying this. For centuries, edible delights from the garden have found their way into this kitchen in the great house. So it's going to have lots of varied vegetables that you've got. Yeah, well, that's the whole thing, it's celebrating some of the vegetables. If you like to pass a couple of courgettes. Don't be mean with the butter now. Don't be mean. OK. Backseat cook. Yes, dripping with butter. And chives. Please. Oh! I mean, that really is... It's beautifully baked. Do they pass muster? They look lovely and crispy. Is that all for me? All for you. Doesn't it look good? It's nice and colourful. And to think that these were growing only a few minutes ago. Oh, one thing I just ought to check. Oh. Delicious. Well done. The thing about growing your own vegetables is you feel it's the closing of the circle. You've sowed the seed, you've cultivated the plants, you've brought them to maturity, you've dug them up, you've cooked them and you're eating them and there's a great satisfaction in doing that. You've passed with flying colours. Mary Berry says I'm a good cook. I like looking at plants, but sometimes you find them in the most unexpected places. And two of my favourite things from 50 years of gardening can be found in the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square, home to some of the world's greatest paintings. The Hay Wain by John Constable, the most marvellous depiction of trees in the English landscape. What I want to show you is tucked away in a corner. But this, by this wonderful painter, Claude Lorraine, painted about 1636. The irony is he's painting an Italian landscape, but this is what we think of as a British landscape. Believe it or not, these little paintings changed gardening when they arrived on our shores. The 18th century, of course, is the age of the Grand Tour, so you have all these British aristocrats going on what's essentially a kind of cultural education holiday shopping trip to Italy. This is the souvenir, this is your kind of picture postcard from your Grand Tour. So this is their version of Instagram? This is, this is the Instagram post. Before the camera. Can we look at that other one? There's another one just down there. These paintings depicted an idyllic landscape, quite unlike anything seen in Britain at that time, especially our gardens. It's just this kind of incredibly tranquil pastoral moment of great beauty. So this is hanging on the wall of your stately home. Yeah. But looking out of the window, you're looking at parterres with clipped box and raked gravel and stuff and thinking, I wish I had that. What happened next changed Britain forever. Landowners replaced their formal gardens with sweeping vistas just to get the look of a clawed painting. In Yorkshire, the ancient ruins of Fountains Abbey were framed by woodland, with a gentle river and new meadows beside it. And in Wiltshire, the guests of Bowood House could look down across a calm lawn towards a graceful lake. And look, even a little Grecian temple. But for me, the epitome of a clawed-like vista is the Hawkwell Field at Stow in Buckinghamshire. Every drop of water, plant and building was carefully placed to create this sensational view. None of Britain's hundreds of landscape gardens would have happened if it hadn't been for inspirational works of art like these. So next time we walk past, you and me, a little landscape like this, don't walk past, stop and look, and remember that a Frenchman, Claude, painting Italian landscapes gave us what we think is the British landscape of today. It's actually European, isn't it? Yes, it is. Next is our most iconic flower. The Brits have always loved roses. They symbolise our most significant moments, but only one collection can lay claim to being the most expensive ever created. It's frightening now to look back at how much we invested. We calculated at something like £3 million. Renowned rose grower David Austin and his team have spent 27 years creating 17 cut rose blooms, not for gardens, but for bouquets. So this is Juliet. This open petal form, in terms of cut roses, has never been seen before. It's got this beautiful apricot colour and the contrasting, very delicate white outer petals. This is Keira. Raspberry ripple. This is Constance. I think Constance really epitomises the perfect form. For sheer ambition alone, I can't think of a collection of roses that better represents our enduring love for this fragrant flower. I'm heading to the coast now to visit someone who's got the gardening bug late in life, and, boy, has it bitten him hard. Alan, lovely to see you on a lovely day. Yes, you brought it with you. Griff Rhys-Jones has no ordinary garden. This is stately. It is, isn't it? This is Jane Austen. This is Pemberley. It's a little bit more than the house itself sort of deserves. What I love down here is the scale. I mean, these are stonker. And you started with all these hues as what, little bushes? Yes, yes. But do you like grandness in the garden? Yes. Because this is grand. These are over the top. Yes. Theatrical. Drama. Yes. There you are. There might be a little bit of me thinking, yes, actor's garden, whoa, what do I like? Well, I need a canvas. In Griff's garden, the drama hits you at every turn. The next vista, which goes... Oh, look. That's a view. That's where you sit to look at. That's Whisper Cottage. It's a cricket pavilion. Why Whisper Cottage? Well, I did a commercial for a certain chocolate bar and that helped to pay for that. Sort of Whisper Cottage. Exactly, yeah. There's a lot of Griff in this garden, so, as you'd expect, it's a little eccentric in places. Oh, we've got a maze. Well, fairly new. Yes. The puzzle is, you're right, you walk around, you see all the letters... Yes. ..and it spells something. Yes. And when you've got it, you have to keep it a secret, otherwise you ruin it for everybody else who's come for the weekend. Right. Nothing prepares you, though, for this. Oh, hello! Look at you. So, do you keep them for the wall, presumably? Yes. It was all for baby clothes, and now the baby's being, you know, a goth baby, the grandson. All black. It's just got nothing but black. Black outfits. It's not blue for a boy, pink for a girl. No, our grandchildren, black. Aside from the creativity of making this enormous landscape, it must be restful. It's so rewarding that I'm afraid this is what I sort of... I'd rather think life was more about this. 30 years ago, when he moved here, Griff had no interest in gardening. Everything he's done, he's either read in a book or taught himself. It's one of those things, I think, that when you start doing it, you're just... You're hooked, aren't you? And the thing is, I don't do it except to create for me a private paradise that I can walk through and enjoy. But you do feel it is a paradise? Oh, yeah. I'm really, really too happy here, people would say. My number 35 is Griff's garden, proof that it's never too late to start gardening. I'm so sorry, Alan, I can't keep walking around the garden without getting on and just finishing off here. I like the fact you've got two of these. I've got two? Well, this is mine. That's the guy who helps me, Mark, usually, so you have that. You take that one over there, I'll take this one. What do you know? I think Alan might almost be a professional. I suppose he's a bit expensive to offer him a job. I've always believed that gardens are as much about wildlife as plants. And over the years, I've seen some amazing nature-rich habitats. As you know, I like working with nature. At his home, Highgrove, His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales has created a wildlife sanctuary out of upturned tree stumps. It's become a haven for wood-loving insects and the birds that come to feed on them. But my next nature garden... Morning. ..needs to be seen to be believed. Portland Masons, Queen's Grocer. You won't find it on the shop floor. DOORS CLOSING Staff canteen. It's in a part of Fortnum's almost no-one gets to see. Oh, so here we go, Alan. Up on the roof at Fortnum's. Oh, my goodness! Here are the four highs that Fortnum's have been having up here for the last ten years or so. Would you look at that? So four colonies. Four colonies, one queen in each, 50,000 bees in each colony. Gosh, so 200,000 bees on the roof of Fortnum and Mason. Do these stay up here all year round? All year round, yeah. Quite quiet in winter, isn't it? Quite quiet in winter. They don't really hibernate. They go into a catatonic to the state and slumber. Oh, it's a bit like me. Yeah. But they'll pop out on a good day for a poo. I'm not going to say anything about that. So when will you harvest honey from these? We'll probably harvest this mid-August, just when the bees have finished foraging. Where do you sell it? In the store here? So it's sold at Fortnum's. It's Fortnum's honey. But where do they get it all from? They will forage in Green Park, St James' Park, probably as far as Hyde Park, and in a good year will produce probably about 50 kilos of hive. And it's quite amazing seeing the last bees coming in over the city and dropping in at night. It's quite lovely. These four secret beehives prove that even in the city, wildlife helps make our world that little bit richer. It warms your heart, doesn't it? It just reminds you that really, give an inch, nature's in charge. After 50 years spent in gardens, I've found one element that always brings me joy. One tremendous thing about water in a garden is its versatility. It can be a flat sheet like this, or it can be a powerful fountain. But as well as being part of a garden, being part of a garden is a wonderful feat of engineering. Let me show you the most ingenious water garden I know. Using just rainwater collected from the moorland high above, at Chatsworth House in Derbyshire, they've created not one but six dramatic water features. First, the water's directed over a stone waterfall. Then it continues over a dramatic aqueduct to reappear at the Cascade House before it floods down 24 steps, only to reappear again in stunning ornamental fountains. And last but by no means least, using water pressure created by gravity alone, it's fired 300 feet into the air. Gardens like Chatsworth may catch the eye, but just as important to me is how a garden smells. London's German Street isn't particularly fragrant until you arrive at the city's oldest perfumer. The range here is astonishing, and the wonderful thing is they're almost entirely floral. And I know I'm a chap, but I like flowers. Cherry blossom. Cherry blossom doesn't smell, actually, but it does here. It's lovely. Floris has been creating perfumes for generations of royalty. Floris is a very old company. It's been going since 1730, so we're about 290 years. We remain the perfumer to the Queen and the Prince of Wales. I want to see if it's possible to capture the essence of one of my favourite scented gardens in a bottle. Two weeks ago, I asked Penny to visit the gardens of Treba in Cornwall. Expecting roses and herbs, what she found was a subtropical paradise that's home to unusual scented plants. What's so exciting about this garden is you've got the contrast of the tropical growing with the English, so that's going to make a really lovely mixture in a fragrance. Today, I return to smell what she's created. So a fragrance has a top note, a heart note and a base note, and what I've done is reflected that here. The top note is designed to lure you in, and Penny has chosen something fresh and zingy. This is rock samphire. Do you want to have a pinch of it, if you grab a bit? Piney, quite fresh, green and vibrant. She's combining it with the second plant nearby. So this is prostranthroalacianthus. It has a wonderful scent. Yes. This is another top note. I really like that one. So I called it the shoreline heart. Slightly melony. It is citrus. It's light. It's the kind of fragrance I like, actually. And if you're careful, you can smell... Gin and tonic. No, no! Everybody says... No. The next part of a fragrance is the mid note, designed to linger once the top note has had its say. This is probably one of my favourite scented rhododendrons. It's actually a very late-flowering rhododendron. It's pretty. It's powdery. A lot of rhododendrons don't smell. Some of the Himalayan ones do, and the deciduous azaleas smell, like azalea lutea. Wow. So that's the middle. That's the heart. That's the heart. The final bass note should be deeper and earthier and linger the longest. This is probably one that we're particularly well-known for at Treba. This is agerotina ligastrina. Oh, the incense bush. It's smelly. I'd like to smell that. There's a woodiness to this. Yes, it's heavy wood. It's like opening a drawer of an antique chest. So we've got... So we have the three... The middle, and then you mix all those together. And then you decide what ratio you're going to mix them in. So this is the mix. This is Treba on a June day. This is exciting. So, the finished article. Yes, OK. Now you start looking for all these elements. Cornish garden on a June day by the sea. Ooh. I hope it's kind of green, light floral. You're so right on the green. Who would have thought you could smell the colour? That sounds silly, doesn't it? You can. Oh, it's wonderfully fresh. Coming from this lovely minerality from the sea. Well done. Nice. My favourite scented garden has been captured in a bottle thanks to four fragrant plants. Rock samphire, the Victorian Christmas bush, rhododendron crassum and the incense bush. So next time you're in London, if you think you can smell a Cornish garden, it'll be me. When art and nature collide in a garden, the results can be sensational. In St Ives on the south-west coast, I love the way giant sculptures stand against a backdrop of lush palms in the garden of famed sculptor Barbara Hepworth. And for sheer drama, land artist Kim Wilkie's outrageous upturned pyramid at Boughton House in Northamptonshire is hard to beat. Just outside Edinburgh, Charles Jencks has taken this concept to an even bigger scale with his monumental installation Cells of Life. And spare a thought for the poor gardener who has to clip this lot. There's no greater display of living sculpture than at Leavens Hall with its 100 pieces of topiary. Over the course of 50 years, I've worked with all different kinds of plants, but the ones which leave me in the greatest awe are the giants of the plant world, the trees. And for me, four woodland wonders tower above all the others. Fans of Game of Thrones will recognise this 300-year-old avenue of beech trees in County Antrim, known as the Dark Hedges. Somewhat smaller but no less magnificent are these miniature marvels at RHS Wisley's Bonsai Walk. And if you're in the grounds of Highclere Castle, you'll find one of the finest collections of the cedar of Lebanon, made famous by Downton Abbey. But my heart will always belong to the English oak. We owe our existence as an island race to these ancient oaks. They built our ships. They built and made our navy. Gave us the wherewithal to defend ourselves from foreign foes. And it might sound a bit jingoistic to say that, but, you know, if it weren't for the English oak, who knows where we'd be today? One of the best places to see our oldest oaks is at Blenheim Palace in Oxfordshire, and some of the biggest in Britain lie deep in its ancient woodland. Think I look good for me age? Wait till you see this. Wow, look at the size of that! It is incredible, isn't it? Monster! A bit like ours, trees get fatter as they get older. You've got your tape measure. Shall I run round them? Yes, do that. How high up do we do it? The thing is, normally we do it about 1.5. Now, I happen to know my nose is 1.5. But it's really got to be the waist of the tree, the narrowest point. It's a long way round. Coming round. Eventually got it. What have we got? OK, so we've got here 9.50 metres. Wow. Which is incredible. So, some people might estimate that as between about 900 and 1,000 years old. This tree was growing when William the Conqueror invaded Britain. 1066. And he loved the forest. We need to revere these oaks. We need to love them, cherish them, look after them and respect them. Hurrah for the English oak! There are a few financial rewards in gardening. The rewards are all being in the moment. And that moment can be different in different parts of the garden at different times of day. In the world-famous Rose Garden at Mottisfont Abbey, the magic hour is 5am. What is so incredible at this time of day, in all gardens, but in particular this garden, is just witnessing a garden waking up. The sun starts to warm up the roses and the scent starts to build. It's just fantastic. No-one else gets to see this. It's the evening hours in the gardens at Great Dixter in East Sussex that are truly special. So this is a magic time for me because it's evening and everybody's gone home and I'm the only person in the garden. I've just got the birds and the cat who follows me around. I love the way the textures are playing off each other. All those sort of lighter colours just sort of glare, start glaring as the light levels go down. And Miss Wilmot's Ghost especially just sort of glistens in this ghostly sort of skeleton. It's my favourite time of the day. And one garden even looks good when most of us are tucked up in bed. The White Garden at Sissinger's Castle in Kent is planted with all-white flowers that catch the moonlight, bathing the whole garden in an ethereal glow. Over 50 years, I've strolled through some of the finest formal gardens in the world. But only at Hatfield House in Hertfordshire do you find four of the best in one place. Whether it's the classic Tudor knot garden, the elegant French parterre, dramatic finials, or crisp borders filled with flowers, if you love straight lines and box hedges, these are the gardens for you. At number four is a shade of green many of us strive for but few achieve. The emerald hue of a perfect lawn. And no grass is more pampered and preemed than the hallowed turf of the All England Lawn Tennis Club. Oh, the greats. I once played a game of tennis with Virginia Wade. I lost. Surprising. With the Wimbledon Championships just two weeks away, head groundsman Neil's giving me a sneaky peek at the world-famous Centre Court at its absolute best. Oh, look! You see it every day. Absolutely, I do. This is it. Pristine before a foot or a tennis pump has stepped on it, isn't it? Yeah, and today it's had its final liquid nitrogen and iron. It's astonishing. Can I go? Absolutely. Gosh. Look at that. Wonderfully even. You can cast your eye across it. Nary a bump, nary a... There's nothing in here that isn't grass, which is not what you can say about my lawn. Grass does not get more beautiful than this. How do you get it to look like this? Is it turfed every year? Is it seeded every year? No, it's seeded every year. Every year we have a brand-new court in Centre Court. How tall's your grass? Currently it's at 10mm. There's another 2mm to come down, so over the course of this week... Just a minute. I'm just going to see. ..you can just double-check. How many millimetres? It should be at 10. I'm about 15 on that. OK. Is it a bit long? We'll get the height down then. For play, it will be at 8mm, so it'll be nice and sharp and a really nice carpet. And for the biggest treat of all, I'm being allowed inside the Wimbledon shed. Oh, here's your marker. So there's some artwork here. He's keen to have a go. I feel like Elton John in a tiara shop. Oh, my goodness. I have never seen a lawnmower that looks like this in my life. Battery-powered? Battery-powered, electric. That just goes back in. Each one has its height of cut written on it. 8mm. And then we have a key system here, so we can actually plug this machine into a laptop and we can actually have three different reel speeds, depending on the weather temperatures. It's amazing. I had no idea. How much is a machine like this going to cost you? Erm, they're around about £10,000 each. That's the modern sports turf mower nowadays. Phew! Gosh. It may be the most pampered piece of grass I've ever seen, but you'll not find a finer lawn in the land than Wimbledon's Centre Court. We're near the end of my 50 Shades of Green, and I've saved a special place for two gardens that literally changed the way we live. This is the old orchard at Woolsthorpe in Lincolnshire. History was made here in 1666. In the autumn, lots of apples on the tree. One of them fell. A young man, he was only 23 years old, called Isaac Newton, was sitting under the tree and he began to think, why do apples fall? From his bedroom overlooking the garden, Newton unravelled the laws of gravity, that explained the mystery of how our universe works and allowed us to travel into space. And from science to nature, it was in this garden in Kent that the secret of life on Earth was discovered. This was the home of Charles Darwin. Charles Darwin moved here, and shortly after, he set about turning this garden and the surrounding countryside into his living landscape laboratory, which helped support his theory of evolution. Here, Darwin discovered how plants and animals evolve over time, the foundation of every beautiful plant I've enjoyed through my whole career. Whoever said gardens can't change the world? So far, we've delighted in 49 places and experiences that have shaped my life as a gardener. But I like to think I've saved the best till last. So what's number one? Well, number one is a bit of a surprise, I suppose, really. Number one is my own garden. Would you like to have a look? Follow me. We've been here just 17 years, so everything you see in the garden is less than 17 years old. There is a moment at half past 11 on a June day when the sun shines right down that rill and turns each of those ten little tiny waterfalls silver, and I can set my watch behind. It's lovely. It's only now that I've been happy to let the cameras in for the first time. It's here to impress me, really, and to please me and my family and to be a place I want to go out into and be in. Let me give you a tour. There is one place which is the hub, the boiler house of the garden, the potting shed. My wife rarely comes in here. It probably makes her feel nervous. It may look a bit showy, this shed, but it is my real shed. It's surrounded with my real tools, the ones that I use. There's one that I'm particularly fond of, this, because this was my grandfather's spade. It's almost ceremonial now. Garden ready. Because it's an old Georgian farmhouse, I wanted to create a garden which was to a degree in keeping with it, and with a lot of houses, the best thing to do, really, is to have the formal bits nearer the house and the informal bits further away, so I wanted a big terrace going right down one side. I'm particularly fond of this view. In a way, it's the sort of signature view of my garden, I suppose. People bring people down these steps, and they generally go, look at that, and you think, job done. I've got to have a greenhouse, haven't I? How else am I going to raise me own plants? I grow things in here I love. I've always loved geraniums, pelargoniums. Now, here, this has a bit of a story. Guess who gave me this? It's called Sweet Mimosa, given to me by Elton John. Isn't that nice? Well, he's actually Elton John's gardener, but, you know, it was Elton John's originally. I do like a garden that can make you laugh. Everything I've loved from a lifetime spent in gardens can be found here. A perfect spot for summertime picnics, clipped hedges with surprising viewpoints, and, of course, water. It's absolutely teeming with roach. I throw some food in every day or so, and it's like James Bond's piranhas. But there's one part of my garden that I prize more than all the others. As well as making a garden, I wanted to return a piece of British soil back to nature, really, so we bought another two acres, which is this L shape here, and it was arable field. It was, you know, wheat and barley were growing in it, so I sowed a seed mixture, a wildflower seed mixture, by hand, this entire two-acre field, and it is now a nature reserve. It's a wash of bees and butterflies. We have cowslips here in spring. I now have four grandchildren, and it's been an absolute delight, they're aged seven and under, to hear them out here laughing, running among it. And in a way, this, if you like, is my legacy, more than anything else I've done, which will disappear into the ether. If I can leave this behind, and leave a patch of ground that I've managed for nature, it's not neglected, it's managed, they come and I can sit and think, yeah, I did that. That'll do.