Chelsea celebrates its centenary by going deeply traditional

After one of the coldest, wettest winters on record, we had a stunner of an early May Bank Holiday.  Warm, calm and sunny, it teased us with the idea that the long winter was over.  For those few days, everything burst into bloom and we dreamt of the glories of a long, clement British summer.

Alas, it was a tease.  The month that followed was ... surprise, surprise ... cold and wet.  Plants that had given a little burst of growth at the beginning of the month seemed to go back into hibernation.  Causing no end of stress for the growers preparing for the Chelsea Flower Show.

The grand-daddy of all horticultural events celebrated 100 years this week, and everyone was making an effort to create a superlative show.  It was lovely, as ever, but I fear what I'll remember most is that despite valiant efforts, this was the year that a lot of the gardens remained in bud, rather than bloom.  Growers coaxed enough out, however, for a glorious celebration.  And the sun came out for us, though we were all in winter woolens.  Here are a few highlights.

The anniversary show was definitely looking back and embracing tradition.  We've had years where it was all stark modernism, foliage plants, high design, foreign influence.  But this year ... exemplified by this garden created to mark 100 years of tradition ... was resolutely traditional with plenty of flowers, classic herbaceous borders and cottage garden feel.

Dominant colours were blues, purples and mauves, accented with reds or oranges.

The most common flower at the show seemed to be Queen Anne's lace (aka cow parsley, or for your purists out there ... anthriscus sylvestris).  Used in multiple gardens, it created a billowing cushion of white to bring together all the other perennials.  It looked great, but I'd be afraid to try it in my own garden.  There's a fine line between this kind of planting and a serious weed problem.

My plant of the show was anchusa Loddon royalist.  Stunning spikes of the most remarkable blue flowers ... turns out it's a member of the borage family.  This was the one I had to have, and I'd purchased two from our local perennial specialist within 48 hours of seeing it.

Some gardens work better in concept than reality.  The idea behind the one above was great:  evoke England from an airplane, with its patchwork of fields, forests and rivers represented by all-English plants.  Surround it with a cloister reminiscent of the great Medieval cathedrals, but modernised and made with English hardwoods.  I'm afraid all I could think was funereal.  The clipped box reminded me of graves, the black walls of a mausoleum.

Gnomes were the great joke of the show.  They've never been allowed, but this year the RHS eased up the rules and they were dotted all over the place.  Each painted by a celebrity, to be auctioned off to aid a gardening-based charity.  This regal couple stood in the African-inspired garden created for the charity sponsored by English Prince Harry and Prince Seeiso of Lesotho.

A bold break from the gentle colour schemes and tradition.  This one was supposed to make us think of a Jackson Pollock  drip painting, and was surmounted by a giant glass sculpture of a single bloom ... blue with the same drops of colour.  Fun, but far too garish to look at every day in your own garden.

In the floral pavilion you find the specialist growers who just do one type of plant very, very well.  At this Iris grower's stand I discovered the identity of the yellow rogue in my garden.  The one who was supposed to be the pink and purple Carnaby.  Turns out his name is Rajah.  And, I have to admit, he's growing on me.

There's at least one Oriental garden every year.  This tiny Japanese model was exquisite.  And if I had enough land for distinct garden "rooms", I'd be mighty tempted to build myself a little sushi hut...

And, of course, in addition to watching the plants, there's always celebrity spotting.  We saw actresses Maureen Lipman and Miriam Margolyes.  And, like the rest of the garden-mad crowds, paused to worship beneath the BBC broadcast balcony as TV gardeners Alan Titchmarsh and Dairmuid Gavin waved to the crowds.