'More is more has always been my mantra': The visionary who made the Eden Project from an abandoned clay pit in Devon

Cornwall: glorious beaches, good surf, divine countryside and tree-shaded lanes. Afternoons eating ice cream and fish and chips overlooking the fishing boats that rock gently in the harbour. This is what visitors experience, but, for the people who live there all the time, it can be quite a tough existence. It was not always so: in the 19th century, the county was booming with tin mines and china clay pits that funded the construction of thriving towns and big churches. However, by 1990, things had changed: the last working mine closed in 1998 and the county was one of the most impoverished parts of western Europe.

Thirty years ago, Tim Smit, who had recently uncovered the extraordinary Lost Gardens of Heligan, was looking for another challenge. At Heligan, Sir Tim, as he later became, had unearthed the infrastructure, the trees and the stories behind the once great garden that had lain hidden beneath undergrowth since the First World War and opened it up to the visiting public, as well as the television cameras. Driving to Heligan, he often passed Bodelva, where there was a huge hole in the ground left by an old clay pit.

Some 196ft deep, steep-sided and devoid of much in the way of soil, it was not the obvious place for a garden, but Sir Tim has never been afraid of a challenge and his justification for choosing this site for his new garden was suitably feisty. ‘We put it in a hole deliberately because it was exciting. People didn’t see anything until they came right up close and all of a sudden — bang! It’s a very theatrical approach.’

Plans were laid for a series of biomes (massive geodesic domes made from an especially robust layered plastic), in which all manner of tender and exotic plants would thrive. They would provide not only a diversion for visitors, but also a valuable resource for science. This is why the Eden Project is so very different from the average open garden: part tourist attraction — an excellent refuge for holidaying families driven from the beaches by weather — and part educational facility. Its aim was to show people ‘that, without plants, there’s no life on earth’, all in a muddy and inhospitable disused mine.

Somehow, money was raised, architects persuaded and councils cajoled. There were many tight deadlines and seat-of-the-pants moments, but, in the end, the team created not only a great garden and a scientific resource, but an employment opportunity for the local area.

If that was the past 25 years, what will happen in the next quarter century? The first answer is that the message will be spread to different corners of the world — there is already an Eden Project in China, with plans for others in Costa Rica, Australia and Scotland. This spring saw an excellent show garden at the RHS Chelsea Flower Show, created by Harry Holding, together with architect Alex Michaelis. This gave us a glimpse of the next Eden Project, set to open in 2028, looking out over the expanse of Morecambe Bay in Lancashire.

Work continues in Cornwall. A year ago, Peter Jones was taken on as the new head of horticulture. Jones made his name at the RHS’s flagship garden in Wisley, Surrey, where he helped transform many of the dustier parts of the garden into vibrant, alluring and almost revolutionary spaces through courageous plant choices and an unerring sense of the spectacular. He is carrying on that work as the Eden Project moves ever onwards and outwards. Less-visited corners in Bodelva are being transformed and paths are being re-routed so the focus is not only on the biomes, but also on the many acres of superlative horticulture that surround them. ‘I love the wonderful bone structure of the original Dominic Cole landscape,’ says Jones, ‘but, 25 years on, gardening is in a different place. There are always things that need changing, tweaking and updating.’

He has plans for bold and novel solutions to some of the tired planting, such as exchanging a teucrium hedge — which was part of the original scheme, but has become woody and infested with brambles — for a sweep of Toona sinensis ‘Flamingo’, the Chinese cedar. For those of you unfamiliar with this tree, it is the arboricultural equivalent of Barbie diving into a pool full of Pepto-Bismol: very pink indeed.

Jones also discovered that there were no Magnolia campbellii anywhere in the garden: ‘So I ordered 50! And 50 cherries for the slope opposite the visitor centre. More is more has always been my mantra — and the garden is so big that you need to make a splash to be noticed. People love colour, it is what draws them to gardens initially. Then, when they are here, we can teach them new things that will affect their world and, more importantly, the world their grandchildren will inherit.’

There has always been an individual vision to impart. ‘One of our core principles is to show people how we connect with the natural world: visitors need to understand that we cannot survive without plants,’ is how Jones puts it. Yet it does this without lecturing, partly perhaps because the Eden Project has always been an exciting place to work: the difficulties of gardening on a 40-degree slope and keeping biomes under control mean gardeners can often be seen swinging around on ropes. It is one of the few gardens that is weeded by abseilers.

To get it built at all was an extraordinary feat of perseverance. To watch the place revving up for another 25 years of innovation and excitement promises to be equally as thrilling.

Visit The Eden Project website for details about visiting.

This feature originally appeared in the September 23, 2026, print edition of Country Life. Click here for more information on how to subscribe.