I’ve got a confession: I like to please people. I’m a woman so there is a better chance of me wanting to like and be liked than if I was a man. Also, I don’t like rejection, even when I am the one doing it. What has this got to do with Painswick Rococo Garden I hear you asking? Well: I went, I saw and I didn’t like it at all, that’s what. This created a bit of a quandary. On the one hand, the opinions I’m sharing here are mine so tough I didn’t like it, on the other hand what if people involved in the place were to find me unreasonable and unfair?
I’ve been putting off this review for two months now. Perhaps I was in a bad mood when I went, perhaps the lack of sun during the British summer err, clouded my judgement somehow. In a way, it would have been easier if the Rococo Garden had been a date. I would only have had to text “Sorry, no chemistry” to send him back to permanent oblivion.
Lack of chemistry though, is exactly how I would describe my experience in the Rococo Garden. I cannot fault the work of gardeners and landscapers who have beautifully preserved this 18th century pleasure ground. Everything was in very good state, all very lovely and pretty. The pond, the follies, the nature trail, the statues, the rose garden, the maze and the views scored this fair sized garden a very good 4.5 out of 5 stars on Google and are without a doubt the reason why it has been recommended by the Daily Mail as one of the top 20 best gardens in the UK. The 18th century is also my favourite century for literature, music and painting so this garden ticked all my boxes on the website, which is why I went on the date, sorry, visit.
Within a minute of setting foot in the place however, I knew chemistry was lacking and I acted all blasé for the minimum time possible I spent there, half-heartedly taking pictures, hoping the revelation would come by seeing them later but again, not really. Even if the Garden was handsome and smelt nice, I left without buying a drink. The only good thing is that unlike a date, the garden didn’t text me the next day to ask if a second meeting was on the cards. Deep down I blame Sezincote, which boasts the very best garden I have visited this year and probably ever. Sezincote was like an illicit lover in terms of excitement compared to nice but boring Rococo, which I found too fake, a bit pointless and lacking in charm.
If you go to the Rococo Garden, please get in touch and let me know what you thought but I’m afraid it’s a no from me today.
All in all, apologies dear Rococo Garden. It’s not you, it’s me.