With only lawns and shrubberies remaining of the original gardens, their rejuvenation has taken a huge amount of thought and work but, says James Alexander-Sinclair, the results are spectacular
AH… the Cotswolds. Shoals of perfect villages with stone the colour of a Californian suntan, rolling fields and fat cattle. Roads that pass between magnificently arched mature beech trees with their newly born, lettuce-coloured leaves. Almost unbearably picturesque pubs crouch welcomingly on corners as we wander down narrow paths into deep wooded valleys and up again into the light of ridges and escarpments. In the distance, the Malvern Hills glint in the sunshine and feathery clouds flit over flocks of happy sheep.
You get the picture? Bucolic bliss at its best. In the middle
