Like the quality of mercy, Ireland is thrice blessed as a gardening destination. Not only are we directly in the path of every depression that has been collecting moisture all the way from Cape Hatteras via Sable Island, but we have a long tradition of horticulturalists who have thrived on the challenge of making the post-glacial rocks flower annually.

And the third leaf of the shamrock? Well, when you’ve had your chlorophyll of plants, there’s plenty more to divert you in our 32 counties. We have more diversions than the Santa Monica Freeway. If you’re not contributing to the national drainage scheme by emptying a pint, you can always aerate some turf with a seven iron. 

Ecology? Kidology! We were at it long before Kyoto. Mind you, one of the great mysteries of Ireland is how vans with no wheels find their way into the middle of remote bogs – almost as mythical as the construction of Neolithic monuments – but a turf-cutter has to shelter somewhere.

Since we are looking for Ireland in Bloom, let us commence our odyssey in Dublin. Now you would not, as a rule, be looking for a garden in a city center (with apologies to Central Park), but the previous tenants of the capital showed some considerable foresight in leaving Stephens Green as an oasis for the traffic and the trams to circumnavigate.

And a tram ride on the new Luas on the thin Red Line from Abbey Street to Tallaght will take you past the granddaddy of them all – Phoenix Park, a massive greensward one mile west of the city center. Home to the President’s residence (try that one after a prolonged stay in the Stag’s Head), known to all and sundry as the Aras, and to the U.S. Ambassador, Phoenix Park is a wonderful lungover for the hungover. 

And nearby are the National Botanic Gardens at Glasnevin, which house over 20,000 species. May I recommend the Heritage Ireland web site, which lists at least six gardens in Dublin and many more throughout the country? Its visitor card (€20/$25 for over 65 attractions) is the bargain of the decade.

Clearing the head after a pint or 20

Leaving Dublin for some fresh air – a very necessary antidote after a heady mixture of diesel and Guinness – I would suggest a visit to Powerscourt House and Gardens. As a tour operator, golfer and plain ornery visitor, I have always enjoyed Powerscourt, both for the wonderful gardens and the house itself with its view over the quartz lump known as the Sugar Loaf. Throw in a couple of tree-lined golf courses, a picturesque village (Enniskerry) and you have a terrific day out.

Thereafter, you should ignore Horace Greeley for the while and go south into County Wicklow, visiting both the National Garden Centre and Mount Usher Gardens at Ashford.  Both of these centers are full of herbaceous types (none of whom are called Herb, incidentally – and we do pronounce the “h” when we are talking oregano and the like) who will discuss the niceties of propagation, cultivation and probably reincarnation with you. Personally, I prefer just to enjoy the colors, the design and the peace, but hey, I can wipe out a species by poking it with my toe, so what do I know?

And this is the key to enjoying the gardens of Ireland. It doesn’t matter whether your fingers are green, white or orange, or whether you confuse the saguaro with the sagebrush (you can tell that I watched too many cowboy movies as a child), virtually every gardener in this country is delighted to share his knowledge – his passion – with you. 

One of the most popular programs on the main BBC talk station (the imaginatively named Radio 4) is Gardener’s Question Time. Much parodied but much loved and revered, this weekly program has many Irish listeners and serves as a great piece of homework – and much gentle British humor – before you visit these islands. Catch it live or listen to a recent show on the web to get a flavor of the flora.

As an educated and civilized traveler (you wouldn’t be browsing this excellent site otherwise, would you?), you are perfectly capable of reading up the best gardens of Ireland. It is my task to try and elucidate some of the best. 

Three of Erin’s best

Let me return to our rocky beginnings. There are isolated outcrops, especially on the peripheries of Ireland, where dedicated individuals have labored long and hard to produce glorious gardens. Let me give you three examples.

In the south, we have Ilnacullin (the island of the holly) or Garnish Island, which was given to the nation in 1953. Situated in the relative warmth of the Gulf Stream, this little spot of sub-tropicana shows what time, effort and above all, a love for the land can do in the most unpromising of corners.

In the west, we have Strokestown House and Gardens in County Roscommon, which is the best, if not the only, major attraction in one of the lesser-known counties. Rescued from the bulldozer by the state, Strokestown is most capably led by John O’Driscoll, who supervised the reconstruction of the 18^th-century walled pleasure garden. 

Situated just off the main Dublin-Sligo road, Strokestown is yet another example of what love for the land can achieve. In an age when Ireland has not just raced to catch up with the hub of Europe but to overtake it on the Highway to Hell, Roscommon and Strokestown are salutary reminders that there is more to life than chasing your tail. What a joy to escape the penitentiary of the cell phone.

In the north, we have the various National Trust properties. Now any charitable organization that owns the finest bar in Belfast surely has something going for it, but the NT also owns Mount Stewart House & Gardens in County Down and the gardens at the Bishop’s Palace in County Derry, with its magnificent views of County Donegal and of Scotland. There are even individual house owners who open their gardens to visitors, such as Helen Dillon, one of Ireland’s leading TV garden gurus, which brings us rather neatly back to Dublin. This is the joy of gardening, which courses through the veins of so many, but you do not have to be an expert to enjoy the country.

How fine the four seasons

One of the features of Ireland that I enjoy in my work as a tour guide is the changing of the seasons – and no, I am not a leaf peeper!  Even if your idea of a garden is a window box, you can travel the length and breadth of Ireland and just revel in the subtle shifts that the weeks bring.

We start the year with the snowdrops but, before you know it, the pallid winter is giving way to the subtle golds and indigos of the crocus, and then the grass blazes forth with an explosion of daffodils for Easter.  May brings the subtle purple of the ribes and the glorious saffron yellow of the gorse, which transforms the landscape in the strengthening sunshine.

Summer means roses of every hue and the harvest is enhanced by the stupendous incarnidine of the fuchsia, which transforms every road from Malin to Mizzen into a crimson avenue.

Even the autumn – sorry, fall – brings its own muted hues as the leaves guide us back to the short days; the darker nights of reflection and hot whiskeys.

You may know Ireland as The Emerald Isle – and indeed it is. And no one is prouder than myself when our teams run out in those green jerseys. But Ireland is also the land of quieter, more subtle colors, and of a more subtle people than the image would have you believe. Like rare plants, they are hard to find – but well worth the effort. So make “Seek and ye shall find” your motto and you will be rewarded.

Good hunting!