Instead, I wreck my head where to overwinter the pots. The landing in the hallway is a shoo-in: the Camellias are pencilled in for that and should do well there. AND I could see their blooms, although these might open prematurely due to temperatures. The perennials rest over winter, right? They should not need much light – but will the tiny window in the basement be sufficient for several months? Sure enough for the tools and bicycles, but for plants? I hope so. But even then, there’s only about 2 sqm of it, not much for the number of pots that need accommodating.

I don’t think I can expect the neighbours to tolerate more pots along the stairs in the hallway – it might also be a health and safety regulations issue (blocked escape routes/ access and the like). But I do wonder whether to politely ask if anyone objects to a few pots in the basement laundry room: we each have our own washing machine and since we are the only ones without a dryer, there is a little room next to mine…

I’m not sure how frost-free (or rather: how badly frost-prone) the roof terrace is: in theory, a few storeys up, it shouldn’t be as cold as in the yard since cold air sinks to the ground, right? So maybe that’s enough of a protection for the Helleborus and Viburnum tinnus which can stand a bit of frost but won’t like their pots frozen through. With a bit of wrapping, I think I can pull that off – I just have to lug them (like everything else destined for the landing) up.

But I don’t think I can rely on wrapping pots on the roof terrace for overwintering the ornamental sages. Not least because it is fully exposed to any wind coming from the North, North East or Northwest. Over the last few days, they’ve taken quite a battering in a taste of what’s to come. They still flower their little hearts out, despite the less than favourable conditions for them, and I’m very grateful to them for that as it cheers me up – but I wouldn’t want to take chances. So if I find space for them inside our flat, in addition to all the Hibiscus and regular indoor plants – would that in turn be too warm and dry for them over winter?? Will they grow weak and limp and succumb not to frost but to spider mites etc. instead? And what about my Trachelospermum, for instance, currently sheltering in a corner of the roof terrace?

Questions, questions – decisions, decisions… Still, right now finding winter quarters for all my plants actually seems the easier option compared with creating somewhere to plant. And I hope I’ll be in a better state to tackle that challenge come spring.

                          Sacrifices to be made, sacrifices to be resisted

For as long as possible, i.e. almost until the end, I insisted they all had to come, explaining it would be certain death for those left behind as they would not cope 2 ½ weeks without being watered – the time until my man returned to London. Could not a neighbour or friend…? No. It was the summer holidays, most had children and were away. And anyway, we had hired them to move these plants, not to move some of these plants. I even threatened to return to London myself after unloading our stuff in Germany, leaving my man to unpack and get the children to school on their first days over there (about three weeks earlier than in Britain).

When it was no longer possible to insist, I concentrated on the most vulnerable plants and those that were rare. If I had several pots of a kind – such as ornamental sages, say, easily propagated from cuttings – I made sure at least one came with me. I did put my foot down when the men demanded I chop down plants to fit the boxes so they could close the lids and stack them. I had to remind myself that they were working for me, not the other way round, and that I could resist that demand.

I explained to them that while some plants can take that treatment (and indeed benefit from it, even at this season - Geraniums, say, or Phlox which might even be induced to produce a second crop of flowers later in the year), not all of them can - at least not without lasting consequences. Luckily, we found enough low-growing plants to fill a good number of boxes to stack, in order to use the available room as efficiently as possible, with an open box at the top of each stack containing woody plants or those just coming into flower or needing their green mass to store energy for next year’s flowers.

                          Ain't horticultural trolleys what they used to be?

The removal people did their best, I have to admit. At one point the boss almost apologetically told me that he had called around various horticultural nurseries in order to hire plant trolleys, as suggested by me in advance. And that they’d always asked what he intended to transport and, as soon as he mentioned terracotta pots, had refused saying these trolleys were not strong enough for this.

I still don’t know what to make of this claim. I do not think he was lying but on the other hand I well remember my own apprenticeship in horticulture and how we had to stack and load precisely such trolleys with tray after tray of plants in 1-1.5 litre clay pots - if I wasn’t physically strong before, I certainly became so then. Then again, clay pots are rarely used in horticulture these days, precisely for the reason of their considerable weight (and breakability). Perhaps they weren’t even used in Western nurseries at the time I did my apprenticeship, but to East German nurseries shortly after The Wall had come down the modern conventions and amenities of the trade were only just becoming available and within reach. Maybe modern-day horticultural trolleys really aren’t stable enough to cope with heavy loads?

In the end, a third of the pots had to stay behind. The garden looked emptier, more spacious, but certainly not as if it had just had a clear-out – except for the mess, of course. Whilst the men left with truck and van, a friend who had taken care of the children all day helped me to sweep and tidy (thanks again so much, Pauline!). My man returned from Dover just before midnight, just as I frantically cleaned indoors, too, so he would not return from a holiday that wasn’t a holiday into an empty AND dirty flat…

We stood all the plants under the magnificent mature beech tree in the yard of our new abode where they remained in the shade until mid-afternoon. Still, despite being stood as close together as possible in order to created their own microclimate and reduce evaporation, their parched surroundings will largely have put paid to that attempt. And even a few hours intense afternoon sun where enough to burn leaves on those plants that had previously been sheltered from it. These were minor casualties though, save for a Hibiscus which should have been put in full sun from spring on anyway.

The latter immediately lost a large number of its leaves but will be all the better for it when recovered, with new leaves much smaller yet firmer and sun-resistant. Likewise, and as to be expected during such an operation, there were a few broken stems and twigs. Again, none of them a major issue although I wasn’t happy about the torn main stem of Podophyllum ‘Spotty Dotty’.

Only the above mentioned fancy begonias were beyond recovery, the moist darkness in the boxes had seen the latent grey mould blossom and finish off what had been weak plants already. Sad, but no great loss. And as for the plants left behind in London: a lovely neighbour was around after all and agreed to taking on watering duties whilst my man was absent. He now tells me almost everything is fine and the plants in good health. What a relief!

So, all in all, the move went well if you discount the fact that there is still a considerable number of plants that have to come later. As for the rest, such as finding myself expelled from paradise, i.e. not having a garden anymore, and how to cope with it: more to come in the following months. Watch this space.