Thinking inside the (grow)box

Manchester is a great city. Industrial heritage, urban grit and recent regeneration have combined to make it a hip 'n happening place to be. But there are no two ways about it: it's not a city known for its green spaces.

The closest thing to resemble a park within half a mile of Ancoats is actually a canal basin. Step outside, and you're on the dusty inner ring road. Step a little further, and you're onto a patchwork of surface level car parks on the footprint of long-gone factories, extending nearly to the foot of Piccadilly.

And yet, amidst the urban decay, there is a real green treasure. Bordered by trees on one side and rubbly car park on another are NQ Growboxes. Some planted with neatly dotted veggies, others almost hidden under sprawling lavender and sage, these dozen or so metre high raised beds are a little haven in the city.

They've been on my radar since I moved to Manchester, and I immediately asked to sign up for one. Typically, there was a waiting list - but as they say, all good things...

I got the lucky email in May - a growbox had become free if I wanted it (a little plot of green of my own in the city!) - and I immediately started planning. There were a couple of existing plants to work around - a thistly cardoon and dahlia - but it was otherwise a clean slate.

Me and my partner took a trip to the garden centre and had a trolley brimming with herbs, flowers (carnations, geraniums, fuchsias) and other supplies. At the same time, I found some old seed packets for peas, perpetual spinach, sweetcorn and other veg - and got cracking. I realised early on that I needed a planting plan, so got busy with a biro...

... then soon after set to removing weeds to clear the bed and making it my own. I like the neatness of the freshly planted box...

... but am enjoying seeing the box gradually transformed as herbs grow to fill the space, hand-sowed seedlings spread skywards, and flowers put on a beautiful display of reds, pinks and scarlets.

Aptly today I've picked my first radishes. Far too exciting.

It may just be a heap of earth in a dusty car park earmarked for development. I might find the box trashed or the plants torn out in the night. But for me it's great. 

It's an exciting experiment in city-centre gardening, and will show me what's possible - and what's not - when gardening without a garden.

The cluster of raised beds also creates a community. We came together over a weekend to rejuvenate the communal planter - but even if I never see the other growboxers, we're at least gardening in numbers by being growbox neighbours.

But what's more, there's a deep sense of satisfaction, of ownership, that comes with the growbox. It gives a real feeling of self-sufficiency that's otherwise hard to come by in the city, that money can't buy.