Have you ever dreamt of having your own little slice of paradise in the heart of London? I have! The dream of having an allotment, a small plot of land for growing vegetables, had been simmering in my mind for years. With over 300,000 people vying for a mere 200 plots in my borough, I knew it was a long shot. But like a glimmer of hope, a notification arrived in my inbox this February. My name was at the top of the waiting list! I couldn’t click ‘yes’ fast enough. And though the heavens opened on my first visit, the rain didn’t dampen my spirits – a true gardener embraces all weather! I was given a padlock code, a set of rules, and a heaping pile of wood chips. It was the start of my very own urban gardening adventure.
A Legacy of Land and Sustenance
The allotment system in England has deep roots, dating back centuries. Landlords, fearing unrest amongst the poor, would “allot” small parcels of land for survival. This practice dates back to the 11th century, when William the Conqueror’s tax collectors surveyed the land. Common lands dwindled as the Enclosure Acts made it harder for those without land to feed themselves. As a Victorian garden writer, George Johnson, observed in 1850, many had “no ground to till, except, perhaps, an atom of damp earth behind their dwellings.” He believed that leasing out “pieces of land near every village” would be beneficial. Over time, laws were put in place to ensure local councils provided allotments. By the 1940s, over 1.4 million plots existed across the country, governed by strict regulations that persist today. Keeping paths clean, not selling produce, and obtaining permission for any livestock are just a few of the rules.
From Wartime Necessity to Modern Day Dream
The vision of self-sufficiency, growing your own food, thrived during the Second World War when rationing was in place. The popular TV show “The Good Life,” depicting a suburban couple transforming their garden into a farm, further fueled this trend. Unfortunately, the trend didn’t last. During the 1980s, allotments were often sold to developers, councils shied away from responsibility, and vegetable gardening lost its appeal. Today, only around 300,000 allotments remain. Many are permanent, owned by local authorities, while some are temporary, situated on railway lines or reservoirs, and are privately owned. The dream of a self-sustaining garden, baking bread from homegrown wheat and raising a pig, is now a rare find. For city dwellers craving the beauty of a garden, a move to the countryside may be the only option.
A Disappearing Eden: Lost Allotments and Rising Demand
Even the Manor Gardens in Hackney, bequeathed “in perpetuity” to the community in the early 20th century, was uprooted in 2007 to make way for the Olympic Park. This happened despite community members’ pleas to preserve the gardens. (The founders of the local restaurant, Moro, were passionate advocates for the gardens. They even wrote a cookbook, “Moro East,” highlighting the diversity, wildlife, and community spirit the allotments fostered.)
In recent years, a perfect storm of factors—recession, housing shortage, Brexit, pandemic, and war in Ukraine—has led to a surge in demand for allotments. Anyone can apply, regardless of income or existing garden space. The annual rent at my allotment site is a modest £100 (often much lower outside London). However, the size of these plots has been significantly reduced. Once designed to feed a family of four, they were ten rods in size— roughly 250 square meters. Now, they can be half that size, a quarter, or even smaller! Waiting lists at some allotments are reported to be over forty years long. There’s no way to check your position; you just wait, hoping for a stroke of luck.
A Love Affair with 38b: My Tiny Urban Oasis
You can understand why I fell in love with my allotment at first sight! I even changed my phone background to a photo of my beloved, known as plot 38b. Located just off Hampstead Heath, it’s part of a site with around 100 plots, and only a fifth the size of a standard allotment. My plot was a bit of a wild mess when I took it over – bindweed, plastic waste, nylon carpet, and rotting chipboard. But the potential was there. My very own ivy! A large, though unproductive, plum tree! The paths separating plots are perfectly sized for a wheelbarrow, thanks to the watchful eye of a dedicated committee of energetic septuagenarians. My neighbors are a colorful mix of Londoners, from a tiler who has created beautiful flower beds to a dentistry professor with a bountiful crop of dwarf French beans. There’s even a tiny vineyard, some impressive espaliering (training plants to grow flat against a wall), and a feisty cat named George who sleeps in a greenhouse. Many of the gardeners have been here for decades, mastering the art of using communal tools, repurposing materials, and occasionally engaging in friendly competition. It’s a battle of inches, often won at a high cost!
The Joys and Challenges of City Allotment Life
Even with the challenges—soil that needs TLC, pests that decimate seedlings, and scorching heat—my heart overflows with joy whenever I open the gate to my allotment. The birdsong is a constant melody, and the sound of wheelbarrows rolling across the paths creates a peaceful hum. My new friend Zee built me a table from pallet wood, and Tony gifted me a memorial bench that was rejected by the local council. My allotment is my future, my soulmate, forever mine! Of course, this all comes with the understanding that I keep the paths clear, never sell my eight broad bean pods, and never dare to raise a goat. What a small price to pay for my tiny piece of paradise in the heart of London!
