Gardens of Normandy and Brittany June 2026

Our first garden visit is the Jardins d’Angélique, described as romantic and set around a 17th-century manor. These are the sorts of gardens that feel as though they’ve grown up around you – lush, enveloping, and full of atmosphere. There’s an immediate sense of being held by the planting, with paths that invite you to slow down and let the garden reveal itself in stages.

I love gardens like this because they remind us that “romance” isn’t a style so much as a feeling: layered planting, softened edges, and a sense of discovery as you move from one space to the next. You’ll notice how carefully the views are managed – little glimpses and framed moments – so that each turn brings a fresh composition. It’s also a lovely lesson in texture and tone: foliage that catches the light, flowers used as highlights rather than noise, and a gentle, slightly untamed richness that feels both generous and deeply considered.

What I particularly enjoy is how the planting feels light on its feet – grasses, perennials and airy seedheads moving in the breeze – yet it’s all anchored by that underlying order. It’s a reminder that “contemporary” doesn’t have to mean cold or minimal; it can be warm, welcoming and deeply horticultural. You’ll come away with practical ideas too: how to repeat shapes for cohesion, how to limit a palette without losing interest, and how to use structure to make seasonal change look intentional. It’s the kind of garden that sends you home with your notebook full and your head buzzing with ideas.

Bois des Moutiers, is a garden that blends Arts and Crafts sensibility with rare plantings. This is where you’ll see that wonderful marriage of design and horticulture – strong lines and a clear sense of intention, softened by plants chosen for texture, character, and seasonal interest. After time in the coastal village of Varengeville-sur-Mer, we continue to Jardin Le Vasterival for a private tour. Vasterival is renowned for its diverse, naturalistic planting, and it’s a brilliant reminder that “naturalistic” doesn’t mean accidental. The best examples are edited, composed, and deeply plant-led.

At both gardens, I’m always drawn to the way bold structure gives you somewhere to rest your eye, while the planting does the storytelling. Look out for the clever use of foliage – silvers, bronzes and deep greens – threading through the borders and tying everything together. It’s also a lesson in microclimate: shelter, moisture and aspect quietly shape every choice.

No tour of this region would be complete without Claude Monet’s house and gardens at Giverny. We visit both the colourful flower garden in front of the house and the Water Garden, with its Japanese bridge, weeping willows and water lilies – the living inspiration behind some of Monet’s most famous paintings. Even if you’ve seen photographs a hundred times, the real thing still stops you in your tracks: the way light moves across water, the sense of enclosure, and the sheer confidence of the planting.

What always strikes me most is the boldness of the colour in the borders – hot reds and oranges set against cooler blues and mauves – yet it never feels chaotic. There’s a rhythm to it, guided by repeated shapes and confident massing. You come away understanding how Monet painted: not individual flowers, but light, movement, and atmosphere.