PART OF MY TREATMENT to recover from hip surgery is to walk, walk, walk. And more daily walking.
To start with, I hobbled about my manor with my cannes anglaises that signalled to the public that I was injured in some way. I tried to give the impression I was a hard combat soldier just back from a tour in Afghanistan but I’m not sure I succeeded.
For the past two days or so I’ve abandoned my cripple sticks and now walk unaided and normally. But I must still diligently put in the walking miles.
I toyed with the idea of walking down the High Street with my two crutches and suddenly throwing them in the air screaming, “I can walk, I can walk, it’s a miracle, it’s a miracle!” then watch people’s reactions. I guess there are only a finite number of times I could do that before the crowds would turn on me.
So everyday I go for a walk in the morning and a stroll in the afternoon. I very quickly got bored with the usual routes so I’ve been changing my itinerary each day. Today, in glorious sunshine, I set off and after 10 minutes on whim turned down a road I didn’t know. How much is hidden from view, so close yet so far!
I almost went straight past the blue nondescript entrance of the Japanese garden but happened to look up and see the sign. I had no idea this garden existed until today.
The garden is small and the flora not that stunning but still. I was intrigued – who had the idea to create a Japanese garden there? Obviously the council sanctioned it but who was behind it? Whatever, it was a pleasant surprise to stumble (no, I don’t do stumbling now!) on this hidden oasis.




Odd, isn’t it. You think you know an area backwards and can still find surprises.
I love when I discover a new place close to home. That’s a beautiful garden.