I had a mongrel education. At first I went to a Dutch primary school, then from the age of seven I was educated at boarding schools in England. My father worked for the airlines and travelled all over the world.

My most influential teacher was Tom Gilbart at Vine Hall prep school, Robertsbridge in Sussex. He was a Cornishman with a dark, weather-beaten face and a big nose and he taught science. He seemed to have an instinctive understanding of the outdoors - he introduced us to birdwatching and growing things and setting up wormeries. Before lights out he’d read adventure stories - things such as Sherlock Holmes, which fired my imagination. He had this incredibly sonorous voice, and looked quite stern but twinkly. It felt as if you were being told some wisdom from on high.

My secondary school was Cranbrook in Kent. There was an English master called Hubert Moore who read us very adult stuff without trying to dumb it down. He set up poetry classes and got famous poets to read to us. It helped you approach the world in a rather grown up way.

I loved rock music. At night, I’d sneak down the fire escape to go and see bands. I set up a folk, blues and progressive music club at school, though it was actually a scam - it was the only way to meet girls. It was very successful - we managed to book bands such as Procol Harum and Genesis.

It all went wrong when I got thrown out for smoking dope. My history teacher, Lawrence Smy, was brilliant. Despite being expelled, I asked if I could do essays for my history A-level and he sent me all this work to do in Holland. After two terms, the headmaster relented and said I could come back and have a second go.

I studied archaeology and anthropology at Durham University. In 1977, I moved to London and spent 10 years in the music business, song writing and producing. One album, Midnight Blue, with an opera singer called Louise Tucker, sold millions.

By 1987, my wife Candy and I had had enough of London. We came on holiday to Fowey in Cornwall and saw a picture of a house in an estate agents. Next day we went to see it and we fell in love with the place. I had intended to build a studio in Cornwall and carry on recording, but then a change of career happened. I talked about building a rare breeds park and found some land but the owner wouldn’t sell. He said: “I’ve just inherited all this other land - come and have a look.”

Imagine brambles 15-feet high, 700 trees blown over by a hurricane, ivy everywhere. People said it was beyond redemption, but I had this instinct that it was a fabulous place. Restoring it was a huge gamble, but that’s part of my character. I called it the Lost Gardens of Heligan.

The Eden Project came directly out of Heligan - a desire to grow that experience into something with a culture of its own, the principle of human dependence on plants.

Am I surprised Eden has been such a success? No. The way I operate is that if it excites me, it should also excite the millions like me. To me, Eden represents something quite fundamental, which is my belief that if you want to change the world, it’s not so hard if you can get all the talent to work together.

It’s not just the beauty of it. It’s an almost spiritual sense of humans adding up to more than the sum of their parts than the usually expected less. I think a lot of people are moved by that.

Tim Smit was talking to Martin Whittaker

The story so far

1954 Born in the Netherlands

1972 Studies archaeology and anthropology at Durham University

1977 Moves to London to pursue a career in music

1980 Lands record deal with Arista. Career as producercomposer earns seven platinum and gold discs

1987 Moves to Cornwall. Meets John Nelson with whom he restores Heligan, which becomes the UK’s most visited private garden

1994 Eden Project hatched 1997 His book, The Lost Gardens of Heligan, is published and becomes a bestseller

2001 Eden Project opens. Eden by Tim Smit was published by Bantam Press on November 8