There’s something comforting about a place that asks nothing of you — no ticket, no passport, no plan — just the willingness to wander. At the Gardens of the World, the distance between countries disappears and somehow, so does the distance between you and belonging.
It begins quietly, like any other afternoon. There’s sunlight, a subtle entrance and a path forward. But step inside and the world unfolds around you, one garden at a time. A path, a gate, the soft shift from the outside world into something calmer. You don’t need to know where you’re going here. In fact, that’s the point. For anyone who has ever felt overwhelmed by how big the world is — how many places to see, how many cultures to understand — this is a place that gently says, “start here.”
Opened in 2001 and maintained by the Hogan Family Foundation, the Gardens of the World sits on seven acres in the heart of Thousand Oaks. It was built as a gift to the community, and true to that vision, it remains completely free and open to the public. The garden is organized into distinct themed sections, each designed to reflect the landscape and spirit of a different part of the world — from the elegance of a French formal garden to the peaceful Japanese garden, with an English rose garden, an Italian Renaissance garden and more featured in between.
Each garden feels like a small doorway into somewhere else. One moment, you’re tracing the symmetry of a French garden, where everything feels intentional and balanced.
I find the French garden to be the most visually striking section due to its long, formal arrangement of low, precisely trimmed hedges laid out in geometric patterns. This draws the eye toward a grand stone staircase at its center. Water cascades down the steps in a series of shallow tiers, bordered by rows of trees that seem to stand at attention.
Next, you’re stepping into the stillness of a Japanese garden that seems to hold meaning all on its own.
Here, the design language shifts entirely. Stone pathways lead you past bamboo groves, mossy rocks and a small waterfall that runs down into a still pool below. There are no sharp angles or grand statements — just the gentle sound of moving water and the kind of careful, unhurried arrangement that asks you to slow down and look more closely.
There is no rush to move on, no pressure to need to see it all. You simply exist in each space long enough to feel it.
Connecting many of these spaces is a rose-draped walkway — a series of arching metal frames draped in climbing white roses that form a tunnel overhead. Walking through it on a clear day, with light filtering through the petals and the scent drifting around you, it’s easy to forget that you’re just off a busy road in the suburbs.
What makes this place different isn’t just that it brings together pieces of the world — it’s that it makes them accessible. It’s free, open and welcoming. It invites anyone in, regardless of experience or background. You don’t need to be a seasoned traveler or someone who has crossed oceans. You just need to show up.
And maybe that’s what makes it so meaningful. In a time where travel can feel expensive, complicated or out of reach, this garden offers something rare: the feeling of going somewhere without the barriers that usually come with it. It reminds you that curiosity doesn’t have to come with a cost and connection doesn’t have to be so far away.
As you move from one garden to the next, something shifts. It’s not just seeing new styles, new landscapes, new expressions of culture — it’s that you begin to feel more grounded in your own place within it all. The world doesn’t feel so distant anymore. It feels closer, softer, more within reach.
And maybe, without realizing it, you begin to feel like you belong in it too.
By the time you leave, nothing dramatic has changed. The world is still as big as it was before. But now, it feels a little less intimidating — like something you can step into, one path at a time.
In a world that feels impossibly wide, there is a garden where everything gently comes closer. Paths curve from one culture to another, and before you realize, you’ve traveled miles without ever feeling lost.
Sometimes, traveling the world doesn’t start with a plane ticket, rather it starts with a garden. It’s waiting quietly in one place — open, free and ready for anyone who needs somewhere to begin.
