Christmas giving

The shops are full of sequinned frocks, wine and cider is spiked with spices, and chestnuts are being roasted on every street corner. It’s Christmastime – and my first in a country where all the clichés feel right. I won’t be here to see if London has a white Christmas – I’ll be heading south in a week’s time, where (hopefully) the sun will be shining, berries will be plentiful and wine will be chilled – but in the meantime, I’m soaking up the traditional festive cheer as I tick off my Christmas shopping list.
The last few years, my family has adopted a garden theme for gift giving, so I thought I'd share my research (and wish list!)… If you need a little inspiration, here are my favourite gift ideas for the balcony lover in your life.

Balcony treats

Jenni's famous sponge - the passionfruit butter version

I believe firmly in using the good china. While most people lock away their precious set of Royal Doulton, keeping it in glass cases or in dark cupboards for a special occasion that never seems to arrive, I’m all for using it, and gaining pleasure from it, in the here and now. It’s my philosophy on life – I don’t want to put off till tomorrow what I can enjoy today.

It’s the same with balconies. I’ve been focused on aesthetics in this blog, but what I love most about balconies is using them. As a teenager, I loved having breakfast in the corner of our wraparound verandah, with a stack of magazines by my side. In Sydney, I treasured the moments I had in the sun, with a pot of tea, an almond croissant and the papers, wedged between my washing and my plants.

A home by the sea

Even on grey days, the view from this Port Isaac balcony is incredible

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be? The more I travel, the harder that question is to answer, and my recent trip to Port Isaac has added another option to the ever-growing list.

This tiny fishing village in North Cornwall is best known as the setting for the sweet UK series Doc Martin, and like most tourists, I was there to see the grumpy doc’s house, Large Restaurant and Louisa’s pretty school (all in the name of journalistic research, of course!). Usually, going behind the scenes of a TV show strips the magic a little, but in Port Isaac, it’s all there: the view, the harbour, the soundtrack of seagulls, the quirky locals and the whitewashed houses. Approximately five minutes in, I was ready to stay for good.

Less is more

One singular sensation: a window box of plumbago in Rome

If you’ve ever stared into an overflowing wardrobe and thought, “I haven’t got a thing to wear!”, you’ll know what I mean by “decision fatigue”. There really is such a thing as too much choice.

Life is full of decisions, from what dish to order on a menu to what career path to take. It’s stressful – some days, just choosing a loaf of bread can wear me down. Wouldn’t it be so much simpler if there was only one option?

A balcony for all seasons

I'm so happy to announce that the Love is growing! Balcony Love’s very first guest post comes from my mentor, the wonderful editor of Country Home Ideas magazine, Margaret Megard. She shares a magic (and homesick-inducing) moment on her Sydney balcony...

Who needs a green thumb?

Balcony inspiration, via Mykonos. Photo by the talented Sarah Farago

The inimitable Costa Georgiadis once told me, “There’s no such thing as a green thumb”, and his words came back to me with a resounding thud this week. The thing is, I killed a basil plant. I over-watered it and it promptly curled up and died. Distraught, I was going to blame a lack of green-coloured digits when I remembered Costa’s matter-of-fact comment. Gardening skills aren’t born, they’re learned.

While my little blunder won’t stop me rushing out to buy a replacement, it's the sort of thing that could discourage others who are less confident in the plant department. Like my former flatmate, for example. She inherited my Sydney balcony when I left and recently went to her local garden centre with the best of intentions, only to return empty handed and completely overwhelmed. Yes, the garden centre is an intimidating place, especially if you’ve never done so much as murder a pot of basil. Worse, I promised her months ago that I would send her step-by-step instructions on what to buy and how to care for it, and I never did.

So, here it is: the Balcony Love guide to starting from scratch, whatever your colour your thumbs.

New York edition

A delicate fire escape in Chelsea.

I recently visited New York for the very first time, meeting up with a friend for two glorious weeks in the city that never sleeps (except when a hurricane hits). This is how our conversations went, most days:

“Oh wow, look at that fire hydrant – so Sesame Street…”

“Check out that basketball court – raw.”

“Look at that stoop! Stoop shoot!”

Good things come to those who wait

Patience has never been one of my strong suits – when I make a decision, I want it done yesterday. It means I tend to worry unnecessarily, working myself into a frenzy over something that usually sorts itself out in (agonising!) time. Ever since I made the decision to move to another hemisphere, I’ve been learning lessons in patience. I’m a slow learner on this score, but the last few weeks have reminded me that accepting a situation and putting it to rest in your mind, rather than wrestling with it, is the perfect way to allow the universe to act on your behalf.

Sunny side up

It’s as easy as eggs on toast – if you’re having a bad day, the quickest way to change your state is to look up.

A friend of mine let me in on this secret. She’s a marathon runner, and constantly on the lookout for ways to beat those dreaded mid-jog motivation slumps. Her latest solution for a bout of pavement-pounding boredom is to look up into the sky for a dose of natural performance enhancer. The theory goes that lifting your face and body to the heavens distracts your mind from whatever is dragging you down on the ground. It’s like hitting the refresh button on your internet browser. Magic.

The other bonus to this trick, I’ve discovered, is the potential visual feast in store. A perpetual tourist at the moment, I’m constantly gazing upwards, slightly gape-mouthed, as I walk down Europe’s cobbled streets. My reward is sights like these, below – more than enough to keep my senses satisfied and my mood buoyed.

Clothesline in Mykonos

Bougainvillea-covered walkway in Positano

A natural screen of wisteria in Sorrento

What’s your quick fix for a sluggish mood?

Feel the love

What happens when you see something beautiful? Does your heart skip a beat? Does a little thrill run through you? It does for me. Small things, like a poppy pushing through cobblestones or a perfectly chiselled wooden spoon, give me a jolt of joy so powerful I wonder how anything could be wrong with the world.

It’s the same with balconies. Tiny pockets of floral triumph, secret spaces with million-dollar views, a place for washing and people-watching, balconies are something I’ve been drawn to all my life. Lately, it’s become an even greater obsession. Two trips to Europe in recent years have opened my eyes to the most beautiful examples and I’ve found myself training my camera lens on terraces instead of churches, window-boxes instead of sculptures. The first time, it inspired me to fill my own modest apartment balcony with geraniums, hydrangeas and succulents, but this time around, I don’t have the same outlet. Intent on discovering even more of Europe, I’ve moved from Sydney to London, which means I've gained an exciting new adventure but lost my beloved balcony.

So, I’ve decided that the answer to this small problem is to do what any enthusiastic Gen Y-er would – start a blog. I have no idea if anyone will share my passion for the simple combination of railing, pots and, more often than not, bougainvillea, but the internet spins a wide, wide web and I hope that somewhere, someone will see these pictures, read these posts and feel the same little thrill as I do.

It’s my way of spreading the (balcony) love.

White and brights in Mykonos

Pure romance in Positano