Milly visits the Campbell Rhododendron Gardens.

Whimsy warning…..read no further if you are a sensible soul.

‘Could we please go somewhere without Des, Pauline?’ This pathetic plea came from Milly, who lives in the shade of her famous boyfriend, Editor Des. ‘Well of course we can Darling’, I said. I decided she might enjoy a walk to Campbell Rhododendron Gardens in our Blue Mountains village of Blackheath.

Off we went, up our lane and into Inconstant Street. We both always giggle about that name. It has connotations of incontinence and unfaithfulness. Apologies if you live there.

The are some gorgeous gardens in the street. Milly loved these giant poppies.

And look at this enormous white wisteria;

Milly was captivated by the snowball tree. She wanted to pick some, but I told her they would melt. 😎

We turned right into Bacchante Street, and into the garden. Only a gold coin donation required from each of us.

I thought we would have tea and scones first, except Milly couldn’t resist leaping into a blooming azalea bush. It matched her dress. We ordered Devonshire Tea, although to my amusement the volunteer catering ladies called it Australian Afternoon Tea. I think the idea was to prevent international tourists being confused.

Oh the glory of the gardens. They were amazing; spectacular azaleas set among the gum trees. Here are just a few;

From that fiery red to a glade of ice cool white;

Eucalypts and azaleas — **Glorious sight around the old eucalypt trunks.**

What a sweet little winding path;

And here is what it led to…golden treasure!

Goodness me, almost forgot the heroes of the garden, the rhododendrons. Milly and I agreed that the variety pictured below was our special favourite, oh that soft apricot. I think we must buy one for our own garden.

Apricot rhododendron — What a special rhodo.

This one is called Countess of Normanton.

We were feeling a bit hot and thirsty on the way home. Milly was plodding ahead when she spotted a convenient tap. It was a bit high for her to reach (well she is quite short) so she climbed up. Oh dear… it was hard to turn on, too. Never one to give up, she gave it a big shove with her boot….Voila!

On we went. Sometimes there were dear little secret tracks instead of footpaths;

Milly took great pleasure in telling Editor Des all about her day. He tried to look unimpressed, but we could see he was rather envious. Milly just smiled quietly to herself, remembering her scone with jam and cream.