We had absolutely perfect picnic weather for my first Mother’s Day, which was lucky as picnic was the menu. Robyn (also known as NanananNAN NAN NAN!!) Delana, Brian, Orlando and I took a *big* thermos of tea and tasty salad sandwiches up to Carrick Hill for a leisurely lunch.
For non-Adelaideans, Carrick Hill is an absurd and marvelous relic of a period when people felt the only thing to do with a large home in Australia was to try and make it look as “civilized” as possible; including an impossibly thirsty and enormous orderly garden.
We made our picnic under the boughs of a fig tree, with the scent of roses in the sun wafting by from the flowerbeds. Orlando’s knees had no sooner touched the grass than he was off into the rose bushes; to eat dirt and play with leaves.
Evidence of the magnitude and quality of the parties still thrown at Carrick Hill was found in the rosebushes in the shape of a mighty enormous cork, of the variety used in magnum sized bottles of champagne.
Visiting the grounds is free, but admission is charged to visit the house. If you should fancy a smackerel of something the cafe can oblige with tea + scones, a glass of wine…
I found a picture online of the exact spot we had our picnic!
What a perfect day!
The grounds has all manner of gardens + remnants of ye ol’ hedge maze (too many people starved to death, I suppose), amazing views of the city + the bay, + coolest of all, the children’s literary walk, which takes you past Bag End Hobbiton, Charlotte’s Web, the troll’s bridge, + this awesome giant horn which makes a big noise HUGE once Delana has pulled all the stones out of it. Sure the neighbours love that one; they prolly put the stones in ~_~” Oh yeh, also many large aluminium oliphants stomping about, watch yerselves 😉
Didn’t tour the house, but the restaurant bit smelled yum, + the place generally looked like your stuffy old English Hound of the Baskervilles style deal, if that’s your cup of tea. Me, I love a good stickybeak, so I’ll be going back if just for that 😀
I didn’t know you could plant yrselves down and picnic there – I thought you had to pay a contribution to the tights and ruff collars fund.. cool!
It shall forever be known to me as “Oh Yeah, Right Near Emma Wilkinson’s House”
mm.. scones.. *wanders off*