Sandscript Somewhere Else

Writers are ‘somewhere else’ in their heads all the time, but most of us have the occasional chance to be ‘somewhere else’ in real life.
One of my earliest memories as a water lover is a sunny day wading near a sandy bank (it would be years before I learnt to swim). I spotted a shiny jewel, a curious object with tiny feathers. I plucked it from the water. Above me I heard an angry man’s voice and looked up at the bank. I made no connection between the curious object I was still holding and the angry man, I was more intent on taking the treasure to show my parents.
Did they see the ‘incident’, were they watching over me lest I was swept away by strong river currents? I was in little danger, I was paddling in Pen Ponds, Richmond Park, London’s greatest royal park, extending over 2,500 acres. Charles I created this park in 1637, ordering its brick-walled enclosure so that he might hunt deer. At the centre of the park are Pen Ponds, where coarse fishing is still allowed by permit.
Nobody in my family fished, it wasn’t till I was an adult and recalled the event I realised I had picked up a fishing fly and no doubt disturbed any possible catches. On that picnic day and others like it we were ‘Somewhere Else’, somewhere so different from the rented top half of a house on a main road in Isleworth. The smell of bracken warmed by the sun, deer with branches on their heads; one time I patted the nose of a stag, gazing up at his antlers, my parents didn’t believe me when I ran to tell them. Did that really happen, or did I imagine it? Once within the royal walls anything could happen, the outside world was forgotten.
Another playground for the gardenless child was Kew Gardens, with magical structures such as the iconic ten-storey red Pagoda dating back to 1762 and the gleaming Victorian glass houses. Any place where you must go through a gate, which is walled off from the outside world, is magic for adults and children alike, no traffic, no shops, nothing to remind you of everyday life.
National Trust estates are popular for the same reason. Once through the pay kiosk, past the gift shop, you will find a house to explore, lawns for children to roll down, secret gardens.
From one of my earliest outings to our most recent; ‘Stourhead’ in Wiltshire is photographers’ heaven, autumnal scenes by the lake are instantly recognised. We took a chance and went on a day when most of the country was covered in fog. But the sun came out and my first view of the famous lake was breathtaking, even with photographers dotted everywhere. This is man made scenery designed to be natural. A walk round the lakes is essential to appreciate reflections of burning autumn colours and Greek temples. In the woods, golden leaves floated gently down from beech trees like pennies from Heaven. Strangers smiled, it was such a perfect day it was the closest to Paradise or the Garden of Eden that one could imagine. The troubles of The World could not intrude.

p.s. if you like a u-tube laugh 'Fenton the Labrador' achieved fame in Richmond Park. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fk9iJ...