(Photo Gallery below) Compared to many of the historic, public gardens in France, the Domaine du Rayol is a latecomer. This beautiful, unspoiled promontory, a short distance from Toulon, was discovered by a few families at the turn of the century. The buildings and gardens went through two periods of consolidation and development. First, 1910-1940, when they were owned by a Parisian businessman, who eventually sold the main residence for use as a hotel and built a smaller structure near the ocean for himself and his wife; and later, in 1940 when war forced an aircraft manufacturer to buy the property as a refuge. The domain’s web site says that with his staff and dozens of gardeners, this was a time of glory for the garden. After the hostilities, it was used only as a summer home and then deserted. Protected by environmentalists from development, the Coastal Conservancy bought the property in 1989. Influential French Garden Designer, Giles Clement, has further developed garden interest by integrating plants from other Mediterranean climates in a patchwork of international gardens. Although, to be honest, as I wandered around, I threw out the map and just enjoyed the juxtaposition of cactus against succulent against rock against tree against ocean. Blossoms everywhere.
This was another great location for breathing; often and deeply. Eucalyptus added spice to the quiet sweet smell of the mimosas, all mixed together on the sea breezes. Paths wound their way up and down and crossed the bluff from the entrance hall to the ocean; enticing the visitor to go here; no there; well, maybe there; just as a well-designed garden should. The ocean views could be enjoyed from many locations, including a terrace that lead to a small beach, although the beach was closed to the public. It was all right; I found another spot that day to put my feet into the Mediterranean.
The ground between plantings was almost always covered with clover, probably planted to keep things lush and fertile.
Some distance away from the ocean and following the sound of water, I found a small stream spilling down through the deeply shaded rocks. Crisscrossing the quickly falling stream eventually led me to a picturesque, vine covered structure, tucked into the low spot in the porous rock; a 20th century folly or a true well house? I could imagine milk jugs from the farm, cooling in the dark, damp hut but then garden follies often imitate functional structures. A mystery; for sure.[oqeygallery id=26]