On my latest trip to San Francisco this month, I headed south past the bustling ballpark on the Embarcadero and turned left down Third Street to Hunter’s Point—a neighborhood not at all known for its beauty, architecture, or gardens. Nevertheless, it felt somewhat untouched by modern development, which had a certain quaintness to it.

Nestled deep within this unassuming concrete jungle lies Flora Grubb—a garden center extraordinaire!  Exotic plants, living in unexpected and glorious containers; furniture full of color; wonderfully informative assistants to advise and amuse; and even coffee and a quiet corner for reflection. Flora Grubb makes and sells exquisite succulent wall features—actual living walls full of life and vitality. Create or commission one of these, and you will be the envy of the neighborhood.

Later on in my San Francisco visit, I found myself walking the hills in Pacific Heights. Here, grand houses sit on top of the hill with the most magnificent views of the Bay.  It seems that most every one of these houses has beautifully-maintained and articulated gardens, which are deeply suited to match the imposing houses.

I was taken to Pacific Heights on a mission to climb the Lyon Street steps with my daughter and grandson (easy for them). As I was catching my breath half way up the 3-block long stretch of stairs, I glanced up to find the most enchanting spring garden on the slope, right there for all to enjoy. It was a beautiful gift for all passerby, and I so appreciated it. A garden full of color, secretly urging me on to climb the rest of the steps.

Of all the places I’ve traveled, nowhere in the world is the countryside quite like where I grew up in England. In Norfolk, the skies are magnificent and there is a keen sense of the past emanating from the large country estates and the ambling footpaths. There are open gardens to keep you just busy enough to still have time for a nice pub lunch. I love to go to a little hotel in a park where herds of deer are bred for the stately homes. The houses there are built of flint, with thatched roofs.

Last fall, I visited the bleak moors of the Border Country (between Scotland and England). During one drive, my guide pointed to a clump of trees far off in a field. She explained that the owner of the field had recently sold all his land except for this clump. It contained the family mausoleum. Raised on a haha (a parcel of land isolated by a sunken fence) to keep the cattle out, it was an isolated island of melancholy. We walked up to the wall and found an old gate with inlaid steps up to the haha. In the very center: an old stone mausoleum structure with beautiful carvings dating back to the 1600s. Evidently, the old man who owns the haha comes once a year to clear it out, mend the wall, and embed new sayings. It was a fantastic experience in every sense of the word.

In Wiltshire, in the south of England, there are similar clumps of trees—usually round clusters of them on top of knolls—which are old burial grounds of the Druids. These are quiet, spiritual places, filled with roots, silence, and wind.

The most notable thing about Scotland is the light. It’s dark, and the air is cold and raw, so gardeners must be keenly aware of climate and weather when they build and cultivate gardens. The key is containment: walled gardens, greenhouses, berms… and they always plant hardy species in a protective relationship with the more fragile ones.

Scotland is home to some extremely intellectual gardens and innovative art forms, including the sculptor Andy Goldsworthy and the famous Garden of Cosmic Speculation.

Lucca is a walled town in Tuscany with a sense of immense grandeur. The scope, artistry and architecture of the gardens is grand, the gardens are ornate, and mixed in with the modern clean lines of today’s designers, the effect is striking. Orange and lemon trees thriving in abundance, Plumbago tottering out of huge old vases, lots of water, oh! the glory of it. In between visiting the gardens,  I took trips to little gems of restaurants hidden in the hills, an occasional stop at a Vineyard, then back to Lucca for music and supper outside.

Villa Reale dates back to the 1500s and is the grandest of all the villas I saw in Italy. Glorious garden buildings, vistas beyond imagination, gardens within gardens, sculpture, water, grandeur. If you have a yen to visit, check here for opening times.

My personal favorite villa was Villa Oliva. Located in the Tuscan countryside only six meters from Lucca, you can rent this villa for your vacation. And a mighty elegant one it would be! Established in the 1500s, notable features include dynamic sculptures, water features, stables to die for, and an olive garden that once served as a racetrack. Recently, a beautifully executed modern garden building with superb detailing has been added.

The might of the mountains and the imposing natural world of Montana are so huge that I wondered where the gardens could possibly fit in. While there, I was overwhelmed by the scope of the landscape. Yellow grasses and wild mustard bloom into huge sweeps of color. The natural meadows were so beautiful and inspiring.

I found the gardens themselves to be utilitarian. The most sophisticated ones merged with the natural world with such subtlety and sensitivity. Montana gardeners have a real appreciation for using native plants, but the bloom season is short, so their glory is fleeting.

The gardens in Wales are small, cozy and rolling. There are wonderful mixtures of plant materials contrasted with old stone walls, rusted iron gates, and weathered wooden fences. Rather than grand, these gardens are warm and approachable. Here, you connect intimately with agricultural and village life.

Bodnant is one of the great world gardens. It dates back to 1792 and houses one of the finest collections of Rhododendrons, Camellias and Magnolias. Also, outstanding trees, collected over time by many famous plant collectors.

Powis Castle, in Welshpool, Wales is a medieval castle that towers over a world-class garden with descending terraces and 200-year old clipped yew trees.

In Japanese gardens, great attention is given to specific plant detail and stonework. These gardens always incorporate water, which I love. The Japanese are skilled pruners and are able to find a delicate balance between the manicured-by-man and what might be found in the natural world. I was especially struck by some of the modern gardens of Japan, where they incorporate especially imaginative use of metals and stones.

These gardens quieted my mind while stimulating my senses. I found them extremely inspiring. They made me want to prune and shape.

French gardens are many and varied. There are formal gardens around Paris, like in Versailles, which are a tour de force of architecture and man. They reflect ambition and achievement, but aren’t all that cozy.

The parks, though, are filled with innovation and are highly accessible. My favorite thing about the parks? The chairs. Instead of being bolted to the ground like they would be in the U.S., they are free to move about and allow one to roam throughout the park. One stumbles across small clusters of them arranged helter skelter, maybe with an odd chair off to the side as if it wants to join in, but isn’t quite ready.

The chairs make me wonder: Who sat there? What did they discuss?

Also near Paris, be sure to visit Giverny, where Monet lived, painted and kept his garden. It’s a riot of imagination and color and an easy place to get gardening inspiration. I myself prefer these sort of loose, expressive gardens—although I do also love minimal gardens.

India is irrepressible. The old gardens around the palaces, with their geometric patterns, are amazing and grandiose. Ornate stonework and bright colors never cease to delight. Even the residential gardens in India are full of fun. They contain statue after statue, follies, overenthusiastic lushness, vibrant color, random vegetables, errant chickens…. you name it. The gardens of India reflect the delightful cacophony of life in that country.

It’s not about being perfect with these gardens. Rather, they are loving monuments to the amplified and colorful lives of the people. These gardens make you laugh and feel liberated, and fill you with joy.