The conkerer

We went to Wingham Wildlife Park today. It's a small zoo. I don't really like zoos. Even the 'good' ones (and we were told by our friends that this was a 'good' one) depress me. The animals all seem unhappy and confined - which, of course, they are. Wingham boasts about how close you can get to the animals, even being able to touch some of them. As if it wasn't bad enough for a Humboldt penguin to live with seven others in a small rectangular concrete enclosure in 25C heat thousands of miles from home, if they get too close to the wall, which is very low, they find children (and adults) reaching over to paw them. Delightful for the humans, no doubt, but unlikely to be much fun for the penguins. The boy, of course, loved the whole place.

In the afternoon, we went to Goodnestone Park Gardens, which is just a few doors away from where we're staying. The gardens are the grounds of a very minor, and not very attractive, stately home. They include woodland, an arboretum, some formal gardens and a very large walled garden area (including a clearly very productive kitchen garden). I usually find this kind of place a bit precious and stuffy, but something about Goodnestone made it seem very tranquil and pleasant and I enjoyed being here very much.

We were told this horse chestnut tree is over 400 years old. It looked it - not just massive, but beautifully gnarled and knotted, twisted and sinewy. So much more impressive and interesting than a bunch of unhappy meerkats in an overcrowded zoo.