Victoria: A city of gardens

We decided yesterday that the city paid a great deal of attention to its floral arrangements in public places and that the people followed this focus on flowers. Just a part of me longed for sculptural leafy plants and midsized trees to move the eye but we were certainly impressed by the impact. Today, after a hearty breakfast (I had fruit and yogurt and Ross had the porridge) we caught the bus with our tour group and headed out on our first jaunt.

Bill, our tour director and Bud, the driver, took us around the town again pointing out the historical landmarks and stories of early settlement. We had to stop at one point because two young deer were standing in the middle of the road, but they moved on. We saw another young male with a small rack (yes that is the term for their antlers) standing just off the road in a different park. Deer are prolific and a nuisance to gardeners who sometimes fence off their gardens to stop marauding deer. We learned that Vancouver Island has only black bears and no grizzlies, the largest density of cougars in Canada, no porcupines or skunks and a declining population of resident orca. All very interesting, but apart from the porcupines, I don't really wish to come in close contact with any of the above, except perhaps from the window of the bus. We were informed that Victoria, the capital City of BC, has only about 85 thousand people. The median house price was about $800 thousand but ranged up to $12 million if you lived in the poshest part of town with a sea view. I was beginning to think that this was the place where the well off came to retire when we headed out to our final destination for the morning.

On the way we drove by the University of Victoria which reminded Ross, very much, of the ANU, when he first went there as a post doctoral fellow. It looked a very nice campus. As we drove on down the other side of the hill we saw the less financially well-off properties. I was pleased to know they existed and that all sorts of people could live on the island. Regular style suburbia, industry, market gardens and small farms cropped up every now and then as Bill told us of scandalous tales of the misdoings of rakes and fools.

After about half an hour we pulled up at an old quarry. The original owner had mined limestone for cement for the building of the Panama Canal and the rebuilding of San Francisco after the earthquakes and so had made a fortune. When it petered out, the owner, at the instigation of his wife, decided to turn it into a garden similar to those they had seen in Europe. She was clearly the driving force and brought in designers and gardeners from all over the world to rejuvenate the site. Now it is a vast and luxurious garden with great sections dedicated to Italian, Japanese, rose, sunken and bog gardens. Great swathes of plantings lined winding paths, through arches and around bends, each vista building on the one before. I would suggest that begonias dominated, but large garden beds of dahlias, hydrangea and other big flowering plants filled every corner. The colours were big and bold.

I longed for some plantings where foliage played a part, and they were there, but largely to support the bright colours. The dark pine backdrops formed a dark field behind the blooms. I took some pleasure in seeing some monkey puzzle trees. They are rare these days. I also found a flourishing pear and an apple in the garden which seemed out of place until I recalled how lovely they are when in blossom.

The Butchart Gardens are quite remarkable but reeeeally manicured and I missed seeing some signs of chaos and contrast. We both took lots of photos because it was spectactular. They employ about 70 gardeners during flowering time but cut back to 40 during the dormant time. There are coffee shops, gift shops, restaurants, performance areas, a carousel, and trolley after trolley of umbrellas left at regular points around the garden. No-one need leave because of rain.

The Butchart family, on one of their trips around Europe, had taken a message that a pair of rare ducks collected by Butchart, had died back in Canada. Instead of catching their ship back to Canada, he went into Germany to find another pair. It turned out to be lucky because their original ship had been The Titanic!

Ross was taken by the statuary around the grounds, taking particular delight in the dancing fountain called the Ross fountain. Don't try to picture Ross dancing to the water feature. It doesn't bear consideration, but he took several photos of it. His other favourite was Tucca, the wild boar with a shiny nose. It is an exact copy of an Italian sculpture that is said to bring luck if you stroke its nose.

At midday we got back on the bus and returned to our hotel. I was very pleased. I couldn't say why, perhaps circadian rhythms, but I had not slept the night before and was desparate for a snooze. I soon fell asleep and put in a couple of hours snuggled up in bed. Ross went exploring and spent a short time in the Maritime museum, chowing down on Canadian hotdogs and reading pamphlets. He arrived back just after I woke up and then had his nap.

For dinner we went to the local pub and found ourselves surrounded by people on our tour all doing the same thing. The pub had American football on the screen and every now and then I heard comments on the differences between American and Australian football. The Aussies were all certain of the superiority of our game over theirs and only the waiters were there who might disagree. What we have seen of waiters, receptionist, sales assistants and tour guides is that they are all chipper, pleased to meet you, gracious when offered a compliment, ready to return it and free with smiles for everyone. Please let me find a grumpy, ironic, smart mouthed and awkward person soon or I will have to throw something. Ross is certain that all that niceness is motivated by greed. Gratuities are all the go here and about15% of any bill is recommended for the person serving you. You pay if you believe the service has been pleasing. Ross's cynical comment may have assuaged my need to throw things just a little.Read more