My first sell-off
Normally the ´óÏó´«Ã½ televises the Chelsea sell-off to the sound of 'Flight of the Bumblebee.' Seeing the crowds circling the stands in the Great Pavilion an hour before the bell was rung, I wondered whether the theme tune to 'Jaws' might not be more fitting. This was my first Chelsea sell-off. In some cases things seemed quite civilised: Jekka's herb farm looked relaxed, her herbs had cloakroom tickets neatly stapled to them which were attached to them each time someone reserved a plant. At the other end of the spectrum a crowd of customers waiting at the Winchester Growers/ National Collection of Dahlias stand were loitering in a predatory manner. A somewhat flustered Jon Wheatley called out to the crowd that the dahlias were not to be trampled on and that they could only be sold from the front first. Luckily Britain is a nation of well-behaved people who like to queue so the scrum did not result in casualties.
Modern show gardens may be the order of the day but we are still a traditional bunch when it comes to our back gardens - the most mobbed stands were roses and clematis followed by lavender and orchids. As the pavilion became more crowded, more and more plant material went on the move. Sometimes the plant material came first before you knew who was behind it - a huge Ficus benjamina rammed into a couple of enormous double-flowered clematis. At other times the tall spires of plant material could be observed proceeding from afar like Roman standard bearers. One woman I saw chose to drape her long Clematis 'Vienetta' elegantly over her shoulders, giving her an air of Botticelli's 'Primavera.'
But it wasn't all gaiety. There's an emotional side to ending the show for many of the designers. Adam Frost who designed the QVC garden couldn't stand to see his garden broken up and left an hour before the bell was rung. "I can't bear to see it taken apart and the sell off just upsets me", he says. Conceptual designer Tony Smith was taking a last look at his Quilted Velvet garden. "Things in the pavilion often wilt after a few days, but our gardens get better as the days go by," he says. "It's difficult for me to see it torn up". All gardens are ephemeral, none more so than these. The pictures and recordings may live on, but the feel of walking around in them lives on only in our collective memories.
So, was I tempted at the sell off? I queued up the Grenada stand and was delighted by the bags of spices on offer for £1. Turmeric, nutmeg (still in its shell), cinnamon. The smell of Chelsea will be in my thoughts for some time to come.