The Edible Bus Stop and tiny parks at a suburb in north London

THERE ARE MANY places in the world that I have never visited. Until today (7 March 2026), one of them was Kilburn Park Underground station. I have passed it many times, but never entered it.  Served by trains on the Bakerloo Line, it was opened in January 1915.

The station’s exterior, the building on the surface, is covered with terracotta tiles, the colour of dried blood. It was designed by Stanley A. Heaps (1880–1962), an English architect who designed several other Underground stations. In 1908, he became the architect for the Underground Electric Railways Company of London. The station was one of the first in London designed for escalators rather than lifts.

The platforms are within the kind cylindrical space which gave rise to the use of the word ‘Tube’ when referring to the Underground railway system. There is a pair of escalators linking the subterranean station with the ticket hall on the surface. Above the middle of the escalator shaft, an oval skylight admits daylight. Within the ticket hall, a surprise awaits the traveller. What used to be the ticket windows have been covered with glass. Behind the glass of each window, plants are growing, and above each of the three ticket windows, there is a sign that reads “Tiny Parks”. And below each window, there is a notice that reads:

Tiny Parks at Kilburn Park. Brought to you by London Underground working in partnership with the Edible Bus Stop. #TinyParks

The Edible Bus Stop’s website explained:

The Edible Bus Stop® is an award-winning spatial design studio specialising in creating accessible and interactive green spaces and multi-sensory experiences.

The Edible Bus Stop was asked to transform disused Underground ticket offices into “green and engaging spaces”. The project began in 2016, and to date they have planted within the ticket offices not only of Kilburn Park, but also St James Park, Belsize Park, and Wood Green. Interestingly, but possibly coincidentally, each of these stations has a name that suggests greenery.

Emerging from Kilburn Park’s ticket hall is less exciting than being within it. The area around the station is hardly likely to become a destination for tourists in the foreseeable future.

The handkerchief tree and pollination

ONE OF THE characteristics of a living organism is the ability to reproduce itself. Pollination of plants is an important stage in maintaining the survival of a species.

Yesterday (the 15th of May 2024), we saw a curious tree at Kew Gardens. It looked as if it had both green and white leaves. It is a Handkerchief tree (Davidia involucrata). The white appendages are not leaves but bracts. They form for about a fortnight each year, and serve to increase the chances of the tree’s flowers being pollinated.

Swamp Cypress and Skunk Cabbage in a park near Hampton Court

I ALWAYS ENJOY visiting Bushy Park, which is near to London’s famous Hampton Court Palace. Parts of the park are unenclosed, where plenty of deer roam at liberty. Other parts – the Pheasantry and Waterhouse plantations – are enclosed by fencing to keep the deer excluded.

The plantations contain a rich variety of plants and trees, all of which are a joy to see. There are two types of plants that never fail to fascinate me. One of these is the swamp cypress trees (Taxodium distichum). What makes them interesting is their aerial roots (known as ‘Cypress Knees’), which look like small woody stalagmites or tapering tree trunks. You can see rows of these stumpy aerial roots lining the stream near to the Pheasantry Café. According to a web article (www.graftingardeners.co.uk/trees-of-bushy-park/), these trees were:

“Once native to Britain, there have been ancient remains of this tree species found in Bournemouth. However, the swamp cypress was reintroduced to Britain by John Tradescant the Younger in 1640 … When the ground is particularly waterlogged, the swamp cypress tree grows pneumatophores. These are like knobbly woody stumps that grow out of the ground and serve as a sort of snorkel.”

Skunk Cabbage flowers

The other plant that stands out in my mind is known as Skunk Cabbage. With yellow flowers that slightly resemble Arum lilies, the Skunk Cabbage (Lysichiton americanus) is believed to emit an odour similar to that of skunks when it blooms. The smell is attractive to pollinators. The plant, although interesting to look at is a potential pest, as I found out on a website that deals with invasive species (www.invasivespecies.scot/american-skunk-cabbage):

“The large leaves and dense stands of the plant lead to it out-competing smaller plants due to its shading effect and can cause extensive damage locally to native flora including vascular plants and mosses. It can grow in shade or full-light and in a range of different soil conditions and thrives in disturbed environments. Given the popularity of this plant in gardens and its continued introduction into the wild, the problems are likely to increase.  Although initial invasions will expand slowly, once this plant takes hold it can spread rapidly and become a serious problem.”

We saw the Skunk Cabbage in various stages from bud to full bloom when we visited Bushy today (the 24th of March 2024), but could not get close enough to the flowers to smell the odour from which they have got their name. I had noticed these plants before, but until today I did not know what they are.  

Seeing curious plants such as the Swamp Cypresses and the Skunk Cabbage, which, incidentally, is edible if its root is roasted and dried, adds to the pleasure that is gained from seeing Bushy’s less strange plants such as daffodils, camellias, rhododendrons, and so on. Visiting the park and its gardens is well worthwhile, but get there early in the morning to ensure finding a place in the car parks.

Art from India displayed amongst the plants

I ENJOY SEEING SCULPTURES displayed in gardens or other plant-filled locations. Until March 2024, the wonderful conservatory in London’s Barbican Centre is hosting a selection of sculptures by Ranjani Shettar. She was born in Bangalore (Bengaluru, India)) in 1977, and now lives and works in rural Karnataka. Her current exhibition in the Barbican is called “Cloud Songs on the Horizon”. The works on display were made especially for this site.

Her works are made of various materials (wood, stainless steel, muslin, and lacquer) and she employs techniques that have been adapted from traditional Indian crafts. Ms Shettar’s organic sculptures look like magnified plants or parts of plants. As she said once:

“Nature’s beauty is ever present, art helps to uncover, perceive and appreciate it.”

Seeing her exhibits in the Conservatory, certainly confirms this. However fine the artworks, putting them amongst plants helps emphasise the greater beauty of nature’s creations. The beauty of the sculptures competes with that of the plants, but the latter almost always win. So, placing one’s artworks within an area rich in plant life is a brave thing to do. I felt that Ms Shettar had done it successfully. Her creations have a harmonious relationship with the plant life surrounding them.

Whether or not you visit the exhibition, which I enjoyed, seeing the Barbican’s Conservatory – the second largest in Greater London – is always a worthwhile experience.

From paper come plants

A TALL MINARET OVERLOOKS Ebrahim Saheb Street in Bangalore’s busy Commercial Street bazaar district. Not far from the lofty structure stands the premises of a printing firm called Sundaram. It is here at this efficient enterprise that I have often had visiting (business) cards printed.

Recently, I went to Sundaram’s to collect my latest batch of cards. While I was waiting to have them packed, I noticed a man in the shop, folding what looked like A3 sized sheets of plain white paper. He folded them in half lengthwise. I asked him what he was doing, and he replied:
“Seed papers”
I must have looked puzzled because the owner of the business added:
“You put them in the ground and plants will come. You leave them in the ground after plants have come. The papers have seeds in them.”
He told me that these seed papers were made in Coimbatore, a town south of Bangalore. Then, he went to the rear of his shop and brought me a few offcuts of the seed paper.

The paper is quite thick and rather stiff. It has a slightly rough surface. When you examine it you can see well spaced, small darkish thickenings. These spots are the seeds, which have been incorporated into the biodegradable paper.

Not being a gardener, I had not come across seed paper before. It has been around for many centuries. Until 1941, it used to be handmade in small batches, but after that year it began to be made on an industrial scale.

The paper can incorporate a variety of seeds from flowers to edible plants. I suppose that the advantages of seed papers include appropriate spacing of seeds and protection from consumption by birds etc.

When I entered Sundaram’s to pick up my cards, little did I expect to learn about seed paper, or to discover horticultural material being processed in a printing shop. It is surprises such as these that make visiting India so much fun.

A lady from Lichtenstein

FUNCHAL IN MADEIRA is famed for its glorious gardens, which can be visited by members of the public. Actually, the whole city is filled with so many flowering plants and trees that it is almost like a huge garden. Nevertheless, we decided to see one of the gardens  for which the city is known. We chose the Palheiro Gardens, which are located about 500 metres above sea level.

To reach the gardens, we took local bus number 37 from the Pingo, a square near the  Mercatos Lavradores. While waiting for the bus to depart, we began chatting with another passenger, a lady who spoke English with a Germanic accent, who last visited the Palheiro 18 years ago. It turned out that she is from Lichtenstein. As far as I can recall, she is the first person from that tiny country next to Switzerland with whom I have ever spoken.

The bus trip up to the Palheiro is spectacular. The road winds ever upwards along the edges of deep ravines. As the road ascends, there are many dramatic views of Funchal and its bay.

The gardens are well-tended and are laid out in a seemingly informal way, in the English garden style. The gardens flourish on slopes overlooking the city far below and a golf course nearby. I do not know enough about trees and flowers, but suffice it to say that the place provides a colourful feast for the eyes.

The Palheiro gardens are laid out in the former estate of the wealthy Count of Carvalhal. The place was purchased in 1885 by the Blandys, a family of British entrepreneurs, bankers, makers of Madeira wine, and merchants who have been important in the development of Madeira’s economy. Part of the gardens retain features laid out by the Count in the 18th century, but much of the rest of the grounds have been developed since then.

Being at about 500 metres,  the garden is noticeably cooler than in the centre of Funchal.  In fact, during our visit, we were close to the clouds and occasionally felt the moisture contained within them. I am pleased that we visited the Palheiro, but feel that given the profusion of lovely plants all around Funchal, I wonder whether visiting gardens like this one is a ‘must do’ activity unless you have a special interest in gardens and gardening.

The journey between Funchal and Palheiro and my first meeting with a person from Lichtenstein enhanced my trip to the gardens.

Going green in an urban jungle

REMNANTS OF LONDON’S ROMAN wall can be seen from various points in the Barbican Estate, whose construction began in 1965. The not entirely unattractive residential brutalist concrete jungle, known as The Barbican is sited next to the northern edge of what was formerly Roman Londinium. According to a history of the area (www.cityoflondon.gov.uk/services/barbican-estate/barbican-estate-history):

“The name of the Barbican comes from the Low Latin word ‘Barbecana’ which referred to a fortified outpost or gateway: an outer defence of a city or castle or any tower situated over a gate or bridge which was used for defence purposes. The “Barbecana” was probably situated somewhere between the northern side of the Church of St. Giles Cripplegate and the YMCA hostel on Fann Street.”

By the 1850s, the district of Cripplegate, where the Barbican is located, was very crowded with dwellings and business premises. Much of the area now occupied by the Barbican had been destroyed by bombing during WW2. The Estate was built to replace what the Luftwaffe had destroyed.

Apart from several water features, there is one oasis of greenery on the otherwise extremely urban site. This is the Barbican Conservatory. Opened in 1982, it is located above the Barbican’s main theatre and can be entered through an entrance close to that of the Barbican’s Art Gallery. Despite it having been in existence for so many years and having known about it for several decades, it was only yesterday (6th of April 2022) that I first ventured inside it. We had just viewed the current exhibition in the Gallery, “Postwar Modern: New Art in Britain 1945-1965”, an impressive display of rather unexciting artworks. Entering the Conservatory was literally “a breath of fresh air” after viewing the exhibits that had been arranged to illustrate the depressing emotional aftermath of WW2 as depicted by artists in Britain.

I was surprised to learn that the Barbican Conservatory is:

“… the second largest in London (after Kew Gardens) and home to over 1,500 species of plants, but is one of the city’s lesser-known green spaces.” (www.atlasobscura.com)

Apart from the plants, many of them exotic, which are arranged on various levels and can be viewed from both a lower floor and an elevated walkway, there are three ponds. One contains koi carp and the other, raised above ground level, is home to two terrapins, which were found in ponds on Hampstead Heath. The Conservatory is divided into two main sections. The larger is the tropical section, where visitors are permitted to wander about. The other, which was locked up yesterday, is the arid section, containing cacti and succulents.

Despite being in the midst of a manmade, visually intriguing, but harsh urban environment, the Conservatory with its tall trees, bushes, flowers, and other vegetation, feels like another world – a primaeval paradise from which the modern world can be glimpsed in the background.