Before you buy a single pot, spend a day watching your courtyard. Note where the sun lands at nine in the morning, at two in the afternoon and at six in the evening. Most narrow courtyards — the classic Victorian back yard, a side return, a strip beside a kitchen extension — are dominated by one bright wall and one that stays in shade for most of the day. That difference should drive everything else.
Mark the shady wall in your mind as the place for seating in high summer, and the sunny wall as where you want scent, colour and anything that flowers. If the space faces north, accept it and plant accordingly: ferns, acers, hostas, ivy and Japanese anemones will all thrive where a lavender would sulk. If it faces south or west, you can be far more ambitious, but you will need to water almost daily from June to August, and shade the pots themselves from the worst of the afternoon heat.
Also check the wind. Narrow gaps between buildings funnel it, and a courtyard can feel like a wind tunnel even on a still day out on the street. That matters later when you choose climbers and lighting.
Floor space is the scarcest thing you have, so treat the walls as your real garden. A single climbing plant in a generous pot will give you more green than a dozen small pots on the ground.
Give climbers something honest to hold on to — tensioned stainless wires or a slim wooden trellis fixed 25–40mm off the wall so air can move behind it. Use the biggest pots you can bear to look at; a 45cm-wide container holds moisture far better than a 25cm one and will save you hours of watering.
In a courtyard two metres wide, every centimetre counts. Aim for a bistro table around 60–70cm across with folding chairs no more than 45cm wide. A wall-mounted drop-leaf table is a genuinely clever solution: it takes up nothing when folded, and it turns a blank wall into a place to eat.
One large outdoor mirror on the boundary wall opposite your best planting will do more for the sense of space than any other single purchase. It roughly doubles what you see, and if it reflects greenery and light rather than grey sky, the effect is genuinely convincing.
Buy a mirror rated for exterior use, or an acrylic sheet, which is safer and lighter for a wall fix. Fix it securely with a decent gap behind for airflow, and angle it so it catches a plant, a lantern or a patch of sky — not your own seating at eye level, and never a neighbour's window. A single large mirror beats three small ones every time; small mirrors read as knick-knacks.
Pale surfaces bounce whatever light you have. Painting a dark brick wall in a soft off-white or pale sage, and choosing pale porcelain, light composite decking or pale gravel underfoot, will lift the whole space. If you are in a suntrap and want drama instead, dark charcoal walls with lime-green planting can be wonderful — but be honest about how much sun you actually get.
A courtyard should change character as the hours pass. Plan for morning sun with a small table where the first light lands, and put your main seating where the shade falls in the afternoon. Tuck a waterproof blanket box under the bench for cool evenings.
For lighting, run a catenary wire between two walls and hang festoon lights on it — far more elegant than string draped over a fence, and it keeps the bulbs at a comfortable height. Use warm bulbs (around 2700K), put them on a timer, and add two or three low spike lights aimed up into a climber for depth. Uplighting a wall is what makes a small courtyard feel like a room at night.
Treat the courtyard as an outdoor room and it will behave like one. Repeat a single colour — in cushions, a pot or two and a lantern — rather than collecting a bit of everything. Add scent where you sit, not where you pass, so you actually notice it. A shallow bowl of water or a small wall-mounted spout will mask traffic noise with something much pleasanter.
Finally, keep a few pots changeable. Herbs, seasonal bulbs and a couple of annuals let you refresh the space without digging anything up — which, in a courtyard you walk past twenty times a day, is exactly the kind of small pleasure that makes it feel generous.