During the hottest day of the recent hot spell, when temperatures locally reached 36.7°C, an early morning walk with the dog would ideally have been followed by a lounge on the settee and some iced water, but my friend, Cathy, and I had tickets for our annual visit to Acton Court, this year accompanied by my friend, Liz, and the homemade cake they serve is too good to miss, so off we went.
About Me
- Deborah Harvey Poetry
- Bristol , United Kingdom
- Poet and poetry facilitator. Neurodishevelled. My sixth poetry collection, Love the Albatross, is available from Indigo Dreams or directly from me.
Wednesday, 8 July 2026
The third annual trip to Acton Court
Wednesday, 2 July 2025
A return to Acton Court
Acton Court. I visited it last year for the first time with my friend, Cathy, but the lavender wasn't out and it looked like it would be spectacular when it was, so we resolved to go back this year, only later in June, which is the only month it's open to the public, just to see it. And lo, we did.
(If you're wondering about the presence of King Henry VIII above, he visited Acton Court in 1535 with Anne Boleyn. Can't say I care to see monsters celebrated, but the idea and execution of the vase is lovely; I just wish it was Anne.)
Sunday, 2 June 2024
A visit to Acton Court
I'd been meaning to visit Acton Court, near Iron Acton in South Gloucestershire for ages, but it's only open to the public for a month every year, and I kept missing the window and only remembering when yet another smug friend announced they'd been there. This year I stalked the website for months, and got my ticket for the opening day. I also told my friend and ex-neighbour, who'd wanted to go there even longer than I had, and she got one too.
Back to the narrative, though: The owner of Acton Court, Sir Nicholas Poyntz, was so keen to impress his sovereign that he had a whole new wing built in the space of nine months, ready for the two-day visit.
Upstairs in the East Wing, the state rooms built for the King and Anne Boleyn were all the more atmospheric for being empty. I loved the floors, which heaved and swelled like walking across an ocean.




































































