I fantasise about floating in a hot air balloon above the rooftops of cities such as London, Paris and New York, simply to snoop at the roof gardens.
Whenever I walk around a city, I’m always on the lookout for secret, hidden gardens; shady courtyards, glimpsed through open gateways, or leafy residential squares spied through high railings or gaps in the planting. But it is the roof gardens and terraces that are most intriguing and elusive. Hinted at by a fringe of green above a parapet, or a solitary birch tree silhouetted against the sky, these urban retreats can never be seen in their entirety from the ground, and few are accessible to the public.
One I had long wanted to see, and which only opens twice a year, is the roof-top courtyard of the London Ismaili Centre, just off busy Cromwell Road. With the air heavy with the scent of jasmine and roses, and the sound of trickling water masking the traffic, I felt thousands of miles, and years, from modern London.
Laid out in the 1980s in a re-interpretation of the four-fold garden or Chahar Bagh of ancient Islamic architecture, the geometric design revolves around a central fountain fed by four rills that symbolise the celestial rivers flowing with water, honey, milk and wine. Four further fountains are set in the pale granite, with planting in shades of white and blue against green and silver-grey foliage including silver, weeping pears and cylinders of evergreen Ilex aquifolium.
The central open space, which is sensitively lit for evening functions, is enclosed by high walls cloaked in scented climbers, with potted white oleanders flanking the entrances. Only when I raised my eyes to the sky did the three domes of the V&A, the Natural History Museum and the Brompton Oratory remind me of my bearings.
Ismailimail 