Kew Gardens

Kew Gardens, in London’s western outskirts, is one of the most magical places I have visited. It’s a misty Sunday morning in London and, due to tube closures, it takes me almost two hours to travel the relatively short distance across town to the Gardens. But as soon as I arrive I realise the travel time will be well worth it.

Even the High Street is pretty as the morning drizzle recedes somewhat and the sky lightens enough to give hope to the day.

History

A visit to Kew Gardens is a walk through one of London’s most beautiful green spaces. It’s also a journey through nearly three centuries of royal heritage, botanical exploration and architectural ingenuity. Officially known as the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, the site’s roots can be traced back to 1299, during the reign of King Edward I, when the area was part of the royal estates. But it wasn’t until the 18th century that Kew began to take the shape we recognise today.

One of its earliest significant buildings, the Orangery, was completed in 1761, commissioned by Princess Augusta, mother of King George III. The Great Pagoda, another of the earliest garden structures evoking Georgian ornamental charm, was completed in 1762. In 1802, Kew merged with the Richmond estate and by 1840, Kew had been designated Britain’s national botanic garden. With that came expansion, innovation and the birth of some of its most iconic structures.

Now this UNESCO World Heritage site spans over 300 acres and is home to more than 27,000 species. It boasts an 8-million‑strong herbarium and a 2.4-billion‑seed vault, making Kew the single most diverse living plant collection on Earth.

The Palm House

Among Kew’s iconic structures, the Palm House stands in a league of its own. Constructed between 1844 and 1848, it was the first large-scale use of wrought iron in a public building and it remains a masterstroke of Victorian engineering. It’s considered the most important surviving glass and iron structure of its kind in the world. Stepping inside feels like entering a cathedral of glass: soaring arches, lush tropical foliage and an otherworldly humidity that instantly transports you to a far-off equatorial climate, something that feels much like home.

Here, tropical palms, cycads, orchids and medicinal plants descends in humid grandeur. A notable specimen is the ancient Encephalartos altensteinii, transplanted here in 1775, making it the world’s oldest potted plant. The house also nurtures vital species: rubber trees (Hevea brasiliensis), cocoa trees (Theobroma cacao), and Madagascar periwinkle (Catharanthus roseus), a plant with cancer-fighting alkaloids.

An upper walkway allows me to peer down into the greenhouse rainforest. This must have been cutting edge for the time. I imagine a corseted life in the English countryside or looking out from a stuffy living room onto a slippery rain soaked cobbled street in London. What this must have felt like, never having experienced anything like it in your lifetime would have felt like an extraordinary adventure.

By 1952, the Palm House needed urgent conservation and underwent major restorations in 1955–57 and again in 1983–88, where its wrought iron frame was strengthened with steel. Today, it features 16,000 individually curved, hand-blown panes of toughened glass (cleaned biennially), beneath which the terrarium continues its botanical mission.

The Waterlily House

Soon I find myself equally enchanted by the vastly more intimate Waterlily House. This is the warmest and most humid of Kew’s glasshouses. Here, the reflections of giant Amazonian lilies shimmer beneath the wrought iron roof like something lifted from Monet’s garden at Giverny, a moment of summer preserved in still water.

And yet, it’s not only the historic buildings or the botanical marvels that are making my visit unforgettable. It’s the atmosphere of absolute serenity that drifts through the misty autumn air, the quack of the ducks and the glimpse of some new mystery around the next turn. The trees blaze with colour in deep crimson and gold and the soft carpet of fallen leaves is slippery beneath my boots. Paths curve gently through lawns so expansively green, it is hard to believe I’m still within London’s city limits. As I walk alone, the fog curls around the garden’s edges like the folds of an old tapestry. In this solitude, it is easy to imagine the ghost of a royal hunting party, just beyond the tree line, moving silently through time.

The Great Pagoda

Around another bend lies the towering Great Pagoda, just shy of 50m high (163 feet), built in 1762 by William Chambers in chinoiserie style as a gift to Princess Augusta. Its ten storeys, were once adorned with 80 dragons and green-and-white tiled roofs.

The Kew Herbarium

Founded in the 1850s within Hunter House, the Kew Herbarium now holds about seven million plant and fungal specimens. Here, 95% of known vascular plants are represented. It is a cornerstone of botanical research, issuing thousands of specimens for global studies. It also houses 330,000 type specimens – the reference examples used in species classification.

The Rest

Kew Gardens is a place where past and present weave together seamlessly. Where scientific discovery and quiet beauty coexist in every greenhouse, every path, every hidden bench.

It’s also worth exploring the Henry Moore exhibition while you’re here. Never have I been so intrigued by modern sculpture, a poetic statement in such luscious landscape.

Good To Know

Kew Gardens is more than a collection of plants. It’s a living tapestry of royal ambition, scientific exploration, architectural innovation and public wonder. From the Georgian Orangery, through the Victorian triumph of the Palm House, to the quiet paths covered by autumn leaves, it’s a place where every brick, petal and glass pane tells a story. Whether you come for the orchids, the history, or simply a breath of green air, Kew offers both sanctuary and insight, an invitation to explore how deeply intertwined our futures are with the natural world.

The Orangery, originally for citrus cultivation (1761), later housed museum collections before becoming a lakeside café. This place, with some company, would be the ideal spot to pause for lunch or afternoon tea.

Would I Return?

Yes. Unfortunately, the sky opened in typical London style and I ran out of time. Returning for another wander and perhaps a lingering lunch by the fireside would be delightful…