Could this be my future? (part 3)

A little more exotic: a bed of netted cavolo nero kale, perfect, dark, inviting. For hearty Tuscan-style soups and stews, or maybe pasta dishes.

Am I that easily swayed? Half an hour in the allotments, and I was thinking about applying for one? Apparently so. It's that I've never thought about it though. I have considered it, and rejected it, for complex reasons. But they all seemed irrelevant when I was there - it was a transformational experience. That so close to home, hidden away, was this other world, where normal, local people were producing so much wonderful food. The plots were big, but not unmanageably so, they were pleasant - even joyous - places to spend time, not places of work, but spaces created by their owners, where nature was corralled, chivvied, encouraged to do what they wanted, but not without allowing space for its own preferences. Birds, insects, wild flowers, were all around, no doubt helping as much as they hindered - predating pests as well as crops, attracting pollinators as much as competing with the cultivated plants.

I'm not sure if these celery were being grown for a competition - but they would certainly be worthy of a prize. Fascinating to see how they've blanched them with metallic insulation, keeping them clean and white.

Here and there, was a sign of the "traditional" allotment culture that had repelled me in advance. Show vegetables: those grown for their appearance, size, regularity, in order to win prizes, rather than primarily for eating. One large greenhouse contained a couple of dozen onions and leeks, the former as large as my head, the latter as thick as my arm. They were incredible - but thankfully in the minority, outnumbered by more realistic examples. The celery above, I suspect, was also grown for this purpose - there was other celery, not even earthed up, in other plots. Actually, apart from the size and spacing, this method, wrapping the stems in foil, seems very sensible, and worth doing generally - a reminder that these approaches are not mutually exclusive. Overall, the plots seemed geared towards producing as much tasty, fresh veg as possible - which I suppose is their purpose.

A view across the heart of the site. Onions of some kind are flowering in the foreground - vegetables are often as pretty as ornamental plants. Look how many greenhouses there are!

In fact, it was amazing how much people were getting from the space. The soil here is fertile. It's heavy - clay where I live, and probably a mixture of clay and peat on the allotment site (as I've mentioned, it was once a glacial lake bed). But even so, it takes extraordinary management of nutrients and space to get so many plants to grow this large, produce this much fruit, in a patch not much bigger than a suburban garden. Without exaggeration, I can say if I had such a plot (assuming I did as well as these folks), I could produce all the vegetables (and eggs, and non-exotic fruit) I would need - what an exciting prospect. It would be a lot of work, but everything in life is work, and at present, this option - producing as much as I can myself, so my overheads are as low as possible - attracts me the most.

A comfortable corner: massive columns of runner beans either side of a path, leading to a cosy blue shed. Not too neat or fussy, neither drab nor unkempt - a perfect allotment.

I can imagine myself there, the radio on in the shed, doing a few hours' work every couple of days. Taking myself away from the intensely urban environment in which I currently spend all my time. Not being limited by space - having the room to grow everything I want. Having a space that I can be proud of. Not instead of my garden here - but that will never be quite what I want, and there's nothing I can do to change that. Rather, a sanctuary, all my own. Running away without having to go anywhere very far. And of course, a source of so much more food.

I bought a few things from a stall they had set up (actually, there was a cafe, a raffle tent, a stand selling cakes, and a barbecue). An enormous marrow, bright yellow, the size of a baby - more than 4.5kg. A punnet of black grapes - yes, black grapes, ripe in August, here in northern England - small, but tasty. A bunch of beetroot, a couple of corn cobs, and some cucumbers.

And I sent an email enquiry about applying for an allotment myself. Next weekend it's the open day for the closest site to my house, where I'd always dreamed of having a plot - but it's on the largest road junction in town, so I suspect I'll like it less. Either way, I have a plan now. Given the waiting lists, I may have to be patient. But that will give me time to finish my garden here - no point in starting a new project until this one is complete. I can wait.

Could this be my future? (part 2)

A bed of (curly/sea) kale, under protective netting. Pristine, beautiful. Enough for the whole winter! Needless to say, I'm jealous.

Early August is a perfect time for an open day. Almost everything is at its peak - the flowers certainly are, and there are still some vegetables that I associate more with spring and early summer, like broad beans, alongside midsummer favourites like runner beans, raspberries (must have been late season varieties), tomatoes, potatoes, maize, and things I'd expect to be ready much later in the year, like cabbages, kale, and leeks. The brassicas in particular were impressive - beautiful fat cabbages, perfect under their mesh protection, some silver-grey, some tinged with purple, others pale green. Onions, broccoli, lettuces - they were all represented. I was surprised how large some things were - pumpkins the size of cannonballs (mine are still marble-sized), fats cobs of corn - while others seemed late, those same crops freshly-planted. It seems the sowing and planting windows in the books and on seed packets are much more flexible in reality.

Another surprise - livestock! I didn't realise you could keep chickens and ducks on allotments - or together in the same cage! They seemed unperturbed by all the visitors. I'd love to keep both, especially ducks.

One "crop" I didn't expect was poultry. I suppose I may have heard of people keeping animals on allotments before, but it was still unexpected - clearly the rules here are quite flexible. I have toyed with keeping bantams at home, as my garden is too small for full-sized birds, but this would be perfect - there's space for them, and they provide a means of recycling waste plant material and pests like snails into fertiliser on site (and faster than composting).

Grapes weren't as popular as tomatoes, but there were a few - including the punnet I bought. Most seemed unripe, which is to be expected at this time of year. Growing them under glass means this person must be serious about fruit production, rather than just growing them as an ornamental.

Down the main avenue, I found more of the same - some plots were open, others more secluded. A big surprise was the many channels of water that ran through the site - between the plots and even under the paths, which crossed them on little wooden bridges. In fact, the whole area these allotments are on was once a glacial lake, which was largely drained in the eighteenth century, but the fact that the water was only a few inches lower than the grass paths, and was all around the site, was both charming and slightly unnerving. It had rained heavily overnight, but even so - I wonder if there is a problem with waterlogging, although none of the plots showed any sign of it (raised beds were the norm). One advantage, in either case, would be (despite piped water being provided, and water butts abounding), no shortage of water for irrigation (and I suppose you could even try growing watercress and other water-loving vegetables).

The biggest, densest, most perfect bed of strawberries I have ever seen. It ran half the length of this allotment, and although it's long past their season, the harvest was doubtless immense. Clearly the plot of a fanatic!

I have to admit, I didn't like the middle of the site as much as the first section I'd seen, as it was more open, but there were still hundreds of little corners, sheds and summer houses, secluded nooks and private spots. With fields on three sides, and a quiet road on the fourth, the whole site is peaceful, but still only a mile and a half from the town centre. I started to think, maybe this was where I wanted to be...

Concluded in part three...

Could this be my future? (part 1)

Or: A day at the allotments

The biggest surprise: flowers! Every allotment had them - a few were more traditional, but still had the odd companion plant, but most were filled with colour.

Overnight it rained a lot. Intense pulses, battering the roof, overflowing the gutters. This morning was grey, with a chill breeze. Why did this matter? Well, it was the open day for a large allotment site within walking distance of my house, and I'd wanted to go. Last year I meant to, but didn't, so when I saw a poster in the window of the local post office, it reminded me, and I searched online. The most important one is in a week's time, but today was another - not so close, but still easily walkable, on the other side of the park at the edge of town. I decided to take a chance - and I am so glad I did...

This cabbage is perfect - probably thanks to the mesh.

I've never set foot on an allotment before. Shameful, isn't it? Well, of course, the open days are only once a year, and they generally seem closed worlds, where the lucky ones can enjoy a second life filled with fresh, homegrown produce, albeit one governed by esoteric rules enforced by aged, humourless men. I know things have changed a little - younger people have started going - even women! - and not everyone is a retiree. Still, I was not prepared for what I found behind the high hedgerow and steel fences...

A gorgeous, deep maroon sunflower - I meant to grow these myself this year, but didn't get round to it. Next year they are a must!

There were several paths leading into the site from the entrance. I took the rightmost one. Immediately, I was confronted by what looked like a garden - somewhere between a cottage garden and a smallholding. It was big - and full of flowers, mixed in with the vegetables. A low fence ran between it and the path, so I could take lots of photos - and the owners were there chatting to people about it. I carried on, and plot after plot surprised me, with their size, and the variety of what I found.

This plot was deserted and secluded. I lingered. Here are some wonderful lilies.

Some of the plots, including the one the lilies above were growing in, were a bit messy. No worse than my own garden, and clearly regularly tended (raised beds of potatoes, tomato- and chilli-filled greenhouses, flowers and vegetables thriving), but with weeds, overgrown corners, bits of junk. They were lived in. Others were nearly pristine - laid out more formally, neatly trimmed and weeded. Some were larger than others, but all were full of vegetables, flowers, and interest. Most had at least one greenhouse - some had as many as three. And the greenhouses themselves ran the gamut from small aluminium-framed domestic models, to massive timber structures, and even some that looked like they'd been thrown together from whatever the owners could find. Tomatoes were ubiquitous, but so were chillies, peppers, and cucumbers.

So many leeks! I was intrigued by how closely these were planted - dense cropping is a must when space is at a premium.

Just as varied was the methods of growing those tomatoes - some had their leaves stripped, some were rampant. Most were still green, some already red, others yellow. I didn't see any more exotic kinds, but there was every size from currant to beefsteaks larger than two fists together. Some were in beds, some in pots, there were shelves, different supports, different watering systems. It was fascinating - it's very easy to get stuck in your ways, even if you read about other people's methods and experiences. Seeing it in action - and how every technique seemed to work - was an inspiration.

Continued in part two...