“Welcome to Down House,” said the cheerful manager as I wiped the mud off my hiking boots at the entrance to Charles Darwin’s home. “Sorry for the wait, I was just out back checking on the sheep.” As I stepped across the threshold in search of a scone and a spot of tea, I felt more like I was stepping back 150 years as I skirted around the Drawing Room in search of the Tea Room. Out back, gardens and greenhouses (and sheep) still thrived, much as they had during Darwin’s day, though resting now as winter approaches.









