Boxing clever-clever?

To the delightful Courts Garden in Holt, near Bradford-On-Avon. A charming, mostly early 20th Century creation with traditional beds of colour, ponds (one a former dye pool revealing is origins as a textile mill), an arboretum and the antidote to all those hideous peacocks - topiary in organic shapes, clearly sculpted, but oh-so-natural.

Bird brained?

The garden is also home this summer to "Urban Arboretum", an art installation. Created by Paul Tecklenberg and Mikey Georgeson, it comprises 20 bird boxes attached to trees. But instead of hosting wrens or tits, the receptacles contain photographs which blend images of the garden with landmarks of London. One peers into the hole where a bird might enter to view the photo - and peer is the operative word. Fixed to the trees which are now in full leaf, most are in deep shadow and the images are very difficult to make out. Only at the end of the tour did we find an information board admitting that this was a problem and offering the loan of a torch! Setting this "school of the bleedin' obvious" issue aside, what is the point of the exercise? I could see little. Mrs W enjoyed the novelty of it all, treating the trail as something of a treasure hunt. But what is the work trying to say exactly? That's there's a little garden to be found hidden in every cityscape - and/or vice-versa? And why London? Images of the less salubrious parts of Trowbridge or Westbury or Swindon would have made more sense. I applaud the National Trust for placing contemporary art in historic settings  - Antony Gormley's "Field" currently at Barrington Court, near Yeovil, works brilliantly -  but Tecklenberg and Georgeson's efforts rather smack of the Imperial new wardrobe.

A Courts resident makes clear his feelings about 'Urban Arboretum' 

Drink Up Thee Cider

In our continuing efforts to immerse ourselves in the county’s culture, we sallied forth westwards, Alan Stone’s “Somerset Cider Handbook” in hand. Like some of the product itself, the image of cider has been a bit rough over the years. A yokel dozing in a hayrick, half-emptied flagon of “scrumpy” by his side… that sort of thing. But I’m delighted to say that the West Country’s answer to wine is undergoing something of a renaissance and, in addition to the Big Boys churning the stuff out by the tankerful, there are a number of small-scale makers akin to the micro-breweries of the beer business.

So much better than its name suggests...

This revival hasn’t necessarily led to universally available top quality stuff – there is still cider out there that is so sweet it will rot your teeth and some so acidic it will rip the enamel off any teeth you may have left… But thanks to Lilley’s Cider Barn in Frome I’ve been sampling a variety of the local product and have found one that really hits the spot. Sadly it has a ridiculous name, but you can’t judge a book by its cover, so Janet’s Jungle Juice from West Croft Farm near Highbridge gets my vote. It's fruity and dry, refreshing and satisfying –  that seems to me to be the perfect combination.

So we went to meet John Harris, the producer of aforementioned Juice, and taste some at source. John is a quiet, friendly man who led us into his barn and gave us tasters of both the latest JJJ and his West Croft Dry (also recommended). He told us that (unlike some producers) he adds no sweeteners to his cider, nor does he blend them after pressing – the blending is all done in the selection of the apples. He also, encouragingly, is cutting down on the use of sulphites, the whiff of which is often the first olfactory encounter one has with a cider.

We shall definitely return to John’s farm at the bottom of Brent Knoll, but we will not rush back to Rich’s. I’d enjoyed a glass of their output at The Cornerhouse in Frome, so thought it was also worth a visit as it’s not too far from West Croft. But it’s a million miles away in terms of “the experience”. This is the cider farm as coach party destination: large car park, restaurant and a shop full of touristy knick-knacks. No tastings were on offer and the single member of staff we encountered was not particularly helpful – despite their ciders being split into “Scrumpy” (ie on draught, still and, assumedly, unpasteurised) and “Farmhouse” (pre-bottled, slightly sparkling and pasteurised), the assistant labelled them the same. Their dry scrumpy is pleasant enough, but not a patch on what John Harris is managing to produce on what I am sure is a fraction of Rich’s turnover. When it comes to cider making, small would appear to be beautiful.

PS It's a pleasure to be able to report that Frome With A View has just played host to its 1000th viewer. Now, apart from the occasional poster (whose comments are always much appreciated) I do, of course, have absolutely no idea who all these people are. I'm sure most of them have only ended up on this page because "Frome" is Lithuanian for "Porn" or some such. But, whoever and wherever you are, you are very, very welcome. Do leave a comment. If only to say how disappointed you are by the absence of naked women (or men)...

Super Markets v Supermarkets

Today saw the second so-called Frome Super Market - an experiment designed to turn the monthly Summer Flea/Artisan market into a "destination event". In addition to the usual Sunday suspects, there were familiar faces from the Wednesday/Saturday general markets plus many newcomers. The centre of town was closed to traffic and stalls stretched from the Market Yard car park through the Westway Centre into the Market Place and up Catherine Hill. The result was an attractive mix of the useful (food, drink, kitchenware, tools etc) and the decorative (jewellery, ceramics and that must-have in every trendy Frome home, dreamcatchers). The place was heaving - the open-air cafe almost managed to make the usually soulless Westway continentally chic and the foody section - coffees, teas, cheeses, hot meals etc - in Scott Road was a neat idea.

Catherine Hill Crammed

However, as the whole enterprise is clearly the antidote to Asda and Sainsbury's, it does seem slightly odd to ape them and adopt the title Super Market. It will only take a small typo and the play on words will be completely  lost. But as a couple more shops close on Catherine Hill (Crow -  a warren of antiques and second hand stuff - will be particularly missed), anything that boosts the retail health of Frome is good news. And as someone who had to drive all round the houses to get to Shepton in the afternoon, any inconvenience caused by the road closures is clearly outweighed by the wider economic advantages. Long may the Super, er, Mega, er, Big Market flourish.