Richard Gilbert has always had a passionate interest in growing house plants and there can be few writers with greater experience. He is particularly interested in begonias, bromeliads and saintpaulias (African violets) but has grown virtually every house plant available at some time. A long standing member of the Royal Horticultural Society, he now sits on their committee responsible for greenhouse and house plants. This committee recommends suitable awards for exhibits of plants in its field of interest, including those at the Chelsea Flower Show. He has also been chairman of the British Saintpaulia and Houseplant Society since 1965. Richard Gilbert has travelled throughout the world to study plants in their native habitats and the knowledge he imparts comes totally from first-hand experience.
This is an old book, from different times and I don’t think it is currently in print. It’s a good book, for those nostalgic for different times. It’s all Muriel Grays fault. (Munro Bagging without a beard.) The popularity of Munro bagging has expanded exponentially with each decade since Gilbert wrote his journal. Fewer paths, fewer people, then it was seen as a bit of an outsiders pastime. Thankfully, many more of us have the means to get to the hills and to enjoy them now. Three cheers for the Outdoor Access Code too- Scotland, what a country. The entries are typically factual, with a little embellishment and good stories, but the characters here are the ones that still enchant us- those 277 (or 283) summits. And the weather and the landscapes and the seasons. They are still there and still familiar. What is lovely about this book is the old time nature of it. It belongs in a time before GPS, before entirely reliable weather and snow forecasts, before a plethora of websites which give you the route and a photograph of every footfall on the way to and from the summit. There was a time when all you had was the SMC Munro book giving a paragraph, the OS Map, and maybe if you were lucky, Butterfields High Mountains of Britain and Ireland. It all seems a lifetime ago now, but as someone who still wont use a GPS in the hills and uses a map and compass instead, I relish the old skills. I have to declare, it was my fathers book and I see him in Gilberts stories. To find that they both passed within a few months of each other perhaps ups the sentimental ratings for me. Read this book if you know the hills already- they will give you additional perspectives, different stories and a realisation that once we are all gone they will still be there, hopefully with our children still enchanted by them.
This book had added poignancy when I discovered that Richard had passed away a couple of years ago. I loved his accounts of climbing the Munros in the 50s, 60s & 70s. He climbed a number of hills around the time I was born and it got me thinking about the precious gift of life and of making the most of the time we have been given.