I'm always interested in the stories behind how people come to discover their passion in life, perhaps because it took me a while to find my own. This story isn't about which courses I've studied and which jobs I've had, it's about a moment in my life that sparked a process of realisation which led to where I am now and which continues to lead me.
Travel means different things to different people. Sometimes people travel because they are searching for love, or for adventure, sometimes as an escape, or as a way to learn more about the world. There are wonders out there, natural and man-made, and many different ways of living to be experienced and explored. I think all of these things motivated me to travel to Nepal.
In 2006 I joined a group of volunteers from the UK and the US taking part in a seven month long community-centred programme organised by a charity called SPW. We travelled to Nepal in January and after a month of training in a village just outside Kathmandu (the Nepali capital) we were placed with Nepali volunteers in village communities in the Terai, an area of Nepal which borders India. We began teaching in our placement schools and working with community groups on environmental issues, trying to build a rapport with local people and establish links with other charities working in the area.
Several months into our placement the strikes and civil unrest which had been simmering for some time boiled over into a revolution which led to the downfall of the Nepali monarchy. In the midst of this the charity we were volunteering with pulled us back to Kathmandu for our own safety, despite the fact that most of the major protests were concentrated there, as we could be flown out of the country at short notice if the situation deteriorated even further. We spent a month under curfew in a hotel in the city, able to leave the building only for short periods of time.
Gradually things normalized enough for us to return to our placements and continue the work we had started. Unfortunately the disruption to our program meant that most of the volunteers felt they could no longer continue until the end of the seven months, and I seriously considered leaving for home too, although I did not. I'm glad that I managed to complete what I had set out to, partly because it meant that when the programme was finished I could leave Nepal on my own terms, with good memories of my time there and a sense of completion.
Those good memories meant that I was very happy to have the opportunity to return to the country, this time as a tourist rather than as a volunteer, to stay with a friend there for a couple of months. We were staying in Kathmandu and trying to organise a mountain trek, which involved getting a permit for entry to the relevant national park. We also discovered that it was compulsory to hire a guide or porter through a registered travel agent - something I didn't have enough money for if I wanted to stay in Nepal for as long as I'd planned. It seemed like our trek would never happen.
Frustrated, tired and sweaty from walking through dusty city streets in the midday heat from office to office, I began to feel suffocated by the seemingly narrow-minded bureaucracy, the even narrower streets and the relentlessly noisy traffic, and this seemed to bring back the trapped feeling I'd had during that month under curfew in the city when the country was in turmoil. This feeling settled into me and I felt low for several days without really understanding why. In an effort to cheer up, my friend and I took a walk to get out of the hotel room which led us down a road we had walked down many times. The road was bordered by a high wall with a single opening - an archway in the grey stone with a plaque to one side saying 'Garden of Dreams'. For some reason, we decided not to pass by this time but to go in.
The sheer relief I felt on entering that garden is difficult to describe. My mood instantly lifted and I felt calm and relaxed, not just psychologically but physically too. Perhaps I had been feeling homesick and being in a garden provided a familiar sensation that made me feel as if I were at home again. I struggle to remember any precise details of the planting or design, but I do remember stone and water, fragrant flowers and inviting benches, and a balance of eastern and western influences. I have a photograph of myself swinging on a swing there, looking happy and child-like.
Visiting that garden gave my spirits and energy the lift that was needed to help me make the most out of the remainder of the time I spent in Nepal, and I did see the mountains after all. Stepping through that stone archway into the 'Garden of Dreams' was enough to show me that gardens and the plants they contain have a kind of fabulous power that should not be underestimated.
It didn't take much more of a mental leap for me to realise that a career in horticulture would fulfil almost every aspect of what I wanted from my working life. I could be outdoors doing a physical and practical job as well as explore the more creative side of growing, from garden design to floral displays and even botanical painting. My fascination with biology and the complexities of the environment we live in could easily be satisfied by applying myself to plant biology, pest and predator insect interactions, and understanding the way environment affects plant growth. Sustainability, food security, human health (both physical and mental) and community resilience are all linked to the plants we grow and how we grow and use them.
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