24 June, 2007 (Sunday) London, West

I visited Holland Park yesterday. It's another suburban park just West of Notting Hill, in one of the more rarified parts of London. Since I've arrived in town I've been surprised by the abundance of green spaces in what is supposed to be one of the most densely populated cities in the world. I've wandered the genteel paths of Hyde Park, the sculpted overhanging trees of Green Park, the open spaces of Greenwich. Holland Park though is a little different. It's wilder, a smaller English version of Montreal's Mount Royal Park.

The park is a world removed from the bustling streets outside; rambling dirt tracks bounded by little paling fences that hold back the wild English woods, soft bird calls and well spaced benches. In the centre is a proper hedged garden, overflowing with flowers and well kept lawn. It's peaceful, wandering the dirt tracks.

The hedged garden is pretty, but most of the benches are taken. A short way along we discover a Japanese Contemplation Garden, a sea of stillness in a clearing. Seats dot the periphery, around strategically placed stones, a carp pond, waterfall and paved bridge.

Sitting down it starts to rain. This doesn't stem the tide of visitors: couples, families with strollers of toddlers. The day rolls on and the tranquility of the garden is broken by an influx of sugar-crazed toddlers. One clambers from stone to stone, plastic sword in hand, waving it menacingly at the pond. Another drops down on the pond's edge, she wears a mud-streaked red-striped dress and pensive look on her face as she clears a stone from her sandal. A bunch of youths lie on the bridge, reaching in - although whether it is to tickle the carp or rescue copper coins it is unclear. The sun comes out, but it continues to rain. We leave, umbrella in hand, to return to the dirt paths.