Quilliam Brothers

Christmas Is The Greatest Time Of Year

2011-12-22T17:19:00.004Z

But to enjoy it most, we need to get out of bed.

HI!

Here's a thing from 2 years ago -

And here's a new thing.

An anagram of 'Merry Christmas To You' - 'Curios? Hmm, Try Rosy Tea.'

Your support this season has been oh so gratefully received. We've met some truly delightful people, and caught up with some delightful people that we already knew. DELIGHTFUL. THANKYOU.

LOTS OF LOVE AND FESTIVE INFUSIONS

THE QUILLIAM BROTHERS

FESTIVE MESSAGE

2011-12-14T23:06:00.005Z

HI CHAPS!

AN ANNOYING FESTIVE MESSAGE!

"TEA MAKES AMAZING GIFTS FOR THOSE THAT YOU LOVE AND FOR THOSE THAT YOU HAVEN'T GOT A CLUE WHAT TO BUY."

- TEAna tURNa
(thats 2 tea puns in one name)

May we recommend our gift packs (Which come in three flavaz), for that perfect £10 present (i mean, who wants to spend more than £10? And if you spend less than £10, you're a cheap skate, frankly). They are available online, and if you live in Newcastle we will knock off the delivery fee when it comes to processing your payment. Also, the packs are available at Olive and Bean on Clayton street. Or Teasy Does it on Heaton Park Road.

We had an amazing day at Newcastle Christmas Market. So many lovely people came by to say hello. A day that reminded us how much we love Newcastle and its people.

Ed bookless came on down and took some photos -

WHAT A NICE MAN.

As always, our massive selection of tea is still perusable/purchasable online at www.quilliambrothers.com.

MORE NEWS TO FOLLOW

LOVEYOUBYE

RELEASE OF GIFTY PACKS 2011!

2011-10-17T21:25:00.008+01:00

Hi There Chappies.

Just a Quick'un as it's late, and we've just eaten loads of apple and blackberry crumble, and it's made us sleepy.

I hereby announce the release of The Black Tea Gift Pack and the Orthodox Tea Gift Pack! -

And, once again, our Christmas Gift Pack is alive n kicking -

It was a furious weekend of packing, and we thank all the helpers that helped, and all the others who were just there being entertaining.

We are very happy with our selections, and are proud to be able to offer them to you.

We hope you enjoy them, and can feel the love that we have put into each and every bloody sticky label (we did over 1500 of them).

GOOD NIGHT WORLD (unless you are in Australia and are just waking up).

OCTOBER 2011 IT IS. EH?

2011-10-14T11:27:00.006+01:00

This weekend we will be packing our NEW GIFT SETS!

We will be having 3 gift boxes this winter season. An Orthodox gift set containing a gorgeous Yunnan green tea, a fabulous Fujian white tea and an incredible Ceylon black tea. Also we will have our Black Tea set with the intoxicating kick of Quilliam Brothers Breakfast Blend, the citrusy delights of our Organic Darjeeling Earl Grey and the aromatic smooth maltiness of our Assam Dikom black tea. And, as it is, unfortunately, the season again, the Christmas Gift Pack will be back with a vengeance, containing three festive favourites.

As usual you will get a FREE infuser with the pack and a nice sample to try of sumfink else.

Check 'em all out from Monday the 17th at The Quilliam Brothers Webshop.

Things are moving nicely with the building for the Tea House. We actually have a bit of paper with official words on to sign n that. Which is almost a champagne moment. Almost, but not quite. Tum te tum.

BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG

Today i am talking about companies, corporations and chains.

SOUNDS A BIT SERIOUS?!! Bear with me; it isn't.

This topic will be addressed anecdotally. Though there will be not much in the way of comprehensible flow, there is one word that unites it all - 'EXPRESS'.

I start with the tale of a musical trip to the Burh of Eidyn, some 5 months ago...

'Twas nearing summer darkness, the moon light began to glow.
Through the gentle drizzle, our hungry Pimptones did go.
In search of grub, though nothing too dear,
as with the current economic crisis you kind of have to watch the pennies you see. " 'Ere,
look yonder, look over there.
A 'Pizza EXPRESS' sign doth shine, doth glare."
"But look!" I retorted "Just next door, it's a
Private run gaff, called 'Paradise Pizza'"

Grumbling, mumbling, humbly they agreed,
to support the underdog in our quest for a feed.
So in to Paradise we five did trot,
selected our table, chose our spots.
Menu perused, drinks decided,
we ordered our food with smiles and politeness.

So i sat.

In silence.

Feverish with excite.

Primed and ready to sate my appetite.

-Unfortunately, turns out Paradise is shite.

And it really was awful. We should've baulked at the sight of the peeling wallpaper, naff naff interior design, tacky laminated menus. But with the blindness brought on by my hatred of chains, i brushed all these little issues off as 'quirks'. Unfortunately, the food can't be forgiven for being quirky. It can only be nice or not nice. And it was not nice. And it cost the same as, if not more than, going to Pizza EXPRESS.

The owner, who had the obligatory 'Italian restaurant owner' image complete with FUNNY FOREIGN ACCENT, must've only been there to make the experience just that little bit more authentic, as he certainly wasn't there to maintain the high standards of his restaurant. And the waitresses were well aware of the crap establishment in which they worked, as they couldn't give a gnats doodle about anything. The pizzas were the worst i have ever eaten. Worse than Morrisons value ham and pineapple pizza, which is saying something. Grease and Salt were the 2 overpowering flavours.

Anyway, i was saddened by the whole fiasco. Because necks were stuck out and promptly guillotined and because places like that are ruining the small chance that small businesses have against chainy giants in city centres.

One of our party said - "They are successful chains for a reason." And it broke my heart. Because it's true. 10 points on offer if you know what the reason is.

ANECDOTE 2

Coffee.

We were waiting for a bus. Me and a person. In view of the bus station was an established coffee vendor. Starbucks was his name-o. I nominated myself to go on a coffee run. And run i did. I ran to find somewhere that wasn't Starbucks. Coffee XPRESS was his name-o. lesson learnt, I thought 'This looks nice. Not too scruffy. A touch of the tokyo modern about it. People inside, drinking. Which can only be a good thing'. And in i popped.

I was greeted by a lovely lady, who sounded possibly New Zealandy. She said "I'm sorry, i can only do take away". That was fine, i only wanted take away. The man after me didn't want only takeaway, so off he trotted, f-ing and blinding. I ordered a latte for me and an americano for the person. And paid the same i would've paid in the 'Bucks.

Heroically i returned to the person. And gave the coffee to her (yes, it was a her!). And i put my 24 sugars in mine, and started drinking. It was ok, though VERY weak. Her's, however, was vile. And she couldn't finish it. The woman in the coffee shop had made it by running water through the group head and the coffee until it was a full cup, then heated it by putting the steamer through it for a few seconds. That is WRONG. So either she couldn't be arsed to do it properly, or didn't know how to do it properly. Either way, it is unforgivable for a cafe with 'Coffee' in the title to not know how to serve coffee.

Here, again, my faith in private enterprises has made me look SILLY.

ANECDOTE 3

Buses.

Once upon a time, i was on a bus to London from Newcastle, on my way to catch a flight. 5 hours into the 7 hour slog, i realised i didn't have my passport. A useful item. So, i thought n thought, and realised the only way i could get it to London in time would be to put it on a bus or a train. So i called National EXPRESS and asked if they could bring it down. They said NO. I told my brother that they had said YES, and he wonderfully convinced the bus driver that National EXPRESS had said YES also. I met the bus driver in London with an 8 pack of nice beers, and everyone was happy. Though the bus driver was a bit jobs worthy and did try and milk it somewhat, by saying that it was his neck on the line, and that it would've been his job had he been caught, et ladeda, at least he did it.
Alas, I missed my flight anyway and had to get there via other means, but that's neither here nor there.

SAME BUS COMPANY, but forward 2 years. I was queuing, having failed to print off my e ticket. The bus driver was looking at everyones printed e ticket, not scanning or writing anything. So i showed him my e ticket on my laptop screen. And he said i wasn't allowed on. Anger flowed through my veins, and out of my mouth. WHATS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU NOT MARKING A BIT OF PAPER, AND NOT MARKING A COMPUTER SCREEN? Well, it's company policy. And it needs to be paper to show that it's authentic, and so we can mark it so it can't be used again. IDIOT. (you can print 10 copies of your ticket if you want.)

Anyway, eventually i was allowed on, but i am sure he drove more angrily to try and make me hit my head on the window.

SAME BUS COMPANY, but forward 2 more years, to me and the person sitting in the bus stop considering coffee purchases. I needed to charge my phone, for emergency reasons. There were no sockets in the waiting room. The lovely person i was with went to ask the lady behind the desk if she could charge my phone. She said that she could.
Whilst sitting with our disgusting coffees some minutes later, 2 girls asked if the woman had let us charge our phone behind the counter. We said yes, but it's for an emergency. They then proceeded to slag off National EXPRESS, as NE had refused to charge the girls' phones. (they were playing games on their phones)

UNFORTUNATELY...
those two obnoxious girls are mistaking the person for the company. But who can blame them? The vast majority of the people that work for large companies do everything they can to hide behind the company, use it as a safety net whenever they have to make commonsensical decisions. There's no room for personality in large companies. The brand is the personality. And no employee should show otherwise. Because of this, whenever someone DOES do something against company policy, they then run the risk of being criticised, and they no longer have anything to hide behind. What the wonderful phone charger woman and the excellent passport bus driver did is the daring human thing, and fucked the company policy in favour of common sense. And for that I LOVE THEM. I got the phone charger woman a chocolate bar and told National Express that she was excellent.

A PLEA..

If you find anyone who is truly excellent in a company, someone who is a person not a drone, someone who WANTS to help you, not just helps you because they are told to, someone who has gone beyond the call of duty because they enjoy seeing a problem resolved, or enjoys receiving a thank you, OR if you eat at a fabulous restaurant, go to a wonderful little shop, find a cosy cafe that serves amazing stuff then SHOUT ABOUT IT. TELL EVERYONE. TELL THE PERSON IN QUESTION THAT THEY'RE MINT AND SHOULD KEEP AT IT. TWEETLE ABOUT IT. FACEBOOKEN IT. DO EVERYTHING IN YOUR POWER TO MAKE THEM KNOWN AND APPRECIATED.

Keep trying out the private operations, even if you cant say goodbye to the big chains altogether. Chains are soul-less, devious, manipulative and are turning our lovely city centres into clone towns. You get assured quality of goods and quality of service, that is true. And sometimes that is nice. It's safe. But i pity anyone who is happy with safe.

THE QUILLIAM BROTHERS TEA HOUSE (EXPRESS) WILL NOT BE SAFE. But in a good way. Not in a hard hat wearing/lawsuity way.

LONG, BUT THE WORDS KEPT COMING.

xxxx

It's September, and we are alive.

2011-09-15T16:35:00.014+01:00

This blog has been getting no loving of late.

This diagram illustrates why -

As you can see, this shows that if any of the 8 essential criteria are not running on High, then blogging is impossible. It also shows that i cannot create curving text on photoshop without it looking a little intoxicated.

So today, creativity is at an all time high, we are feeling inspired, we've got nowt on (schedule or clothing), the stereo is blasting the best of british prog rock, we're wired on tea, we have lots of news to report, energy levels are soaring and Craig David is working on something magical in the studio -

Thus, all conditions are perfect for Blogging.

It's a bit like the Planeteers, as all of them need to be present to create Captain Planet -

- If any one of them wasn't there, or wasn't firing on all cylinders, then the summoning would be impossible.

We've been on this project now for nearly 2 years.

Let's do a Q'n'A!

You - What's been achieved so far?

Us - Not much on the surface, admittedly. Our tea is selling well, we have learnt so much, and the web shop is running. We are doing stuff we didn't think we would be doing. Like stocking other cafes and doing tea lectures and serving tea at events and that. Which is all mint. But, yes, yes, it's not a tea house. And this frustrates and embarrasses us. Making us less likely to blog and more likely to hide. But the elongated tea house getting procedure has given us time to perfect the concept, improve our game plan and source all of our doohickies and whatnots.

You - Where is the tea house then, slackers?

Us - The tea house location has been secured. It is impossible for us to explain why this has taken so long as the circumstances are unique. When we unveil the location of the building, and the plans we have for it, you will see why, and hopefully you will forgive us. There is over 3 months of work to be done on the dilapidated building, and that will be beginning in November. So expect opening times around Easter 2012.

You - What shall we do in the mean time?

Us - Well, we will be updating the blog more often. Now things have finally started to move, we can begin making all the fun purchases and decisions for the tea house, and you will be the first to know. Apart from our mum and dad.

Tea wise, it is possible to obtain some from Olive and Bean in Town and Deli Fina in Gosforth. Or check our webshop for the full selection at www.quilliambrothers.com. Or, give us a shout through email, twitter(@quilliambros), or phone, and we can arrange a tasting session or something.

We will also be doing some markets and other such things in the near future, and will inform you, oh yes we will.

You could also fill your time reading this excellent blog - http://www.gobblemonkey.com/

You - What weighs more, a ton of feathers or a ton of rocks?

Us - A ton of rocks, obviously.

You - Any other news?

Well we have a newish nephew that we didn't used to have. Our tea stocks keeps on swelling as we discover new delicious brews. We had a massive trip recently with all the Quilliams, which was lovely, and included a trip to the somewhat snobby, but otherwise deservedly legendary, Bettys Tea Rooms. We are beginning work on our christmas products. A china trip is still on the cards, but god knows when that will be happening. Our window display (whilst we renovate the place) will be EPIC. As will the new Vinyl Jacket video.

and finally, THERE'S 20% OFF SNICKET ATM

We will be in touch shortly - Thanks for your continued interest, you little darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!! etc

May May May May

2011-05-06T14:02:00.005+01:00

Hello Blogoids.

How's 'it' hanging?

Here at QBHQ 'it''s hanging with some juddery hesitance, but with definite direction and the occasional major positive upswing.

We are still selling online, and FYI it is worth checking out our Makaibari 1st Flush tea, as it is that time of the year again. A serious serious cup of tea. Also, if you are in desperate need of tea, and are Newcastle based, Olive and Bean in town and Deli Fina in Gosforth are selling a refined selection of our mammoth stock. Plus it's a pleasure to visit them, even if you buy nowt.

Tea house wise, horses are being held still. We can't tell you how frustrating the experience is being, but believe us, if all the working and waiting pays off, and everything that has been arranged comes to light, life will be that little bit more special. For us, and hopefully for you.

In other News-

If any of you like the natty combination of ART and TEA, then head down to Shipley Art Gallery in Gateshead for their Mad Hatters Tea Party as part of the Late Shows. We will be there. So will lots of kettles and a small wooden garden house load of tea. This is happening on the 14th of May, in the evening.

For now, here's a tutorial on how to 'get down'.

xxx

Day 19 and 20 and Fin.

2011-04-07T23:36:00.013+01:00

And so began the big slog of a journey back to Mumbai. 2000 km on a rickshaw, a bus, a rickshaw, a train, a rickshaw, a bus, a rickshaw, a rickshaw, a bus, a train and a taxi.

But first, a boat -

That is what you do in Varanasi. And at 6 am, we did. It was lovely.

This Stuff Also Happened That Morning-

After a lonnng painful groan, a heifer projectile shitted slightly up a wall and very much on an unlucky person. Ahhh, nature.

We bought 23 silk scarfs without realising it, including a one for the Quilliam Mother that we spent ages umming and ahhing about. We nailed the choice in the end though.

We paid to lock our stuff up whilst we entered the strict strict Golden Temple.

Then we got confused and left about 30 seconds later.

We had the most delicious curry in the world, and badgered the chef for his secrets. He gave away a few, but not all.

We purchased some great spice masalas (for chai mostly) from some dodgy dealers who were anxiously adamant that we dealt with them in the future for all our masala based business.

Sam got some sandalwood oil for his Lady Friend.

We then had a snooze.

Woke, checked out, and headed Ghat-wards.

Said our goodbyes to the delightful Moni.

Got lost again.

And Again.

Before getting the rickshaw to Mughal Sarai Train Station.

The train was late! Would you believe it?! But only 5 hours late, so really not bad on the Indian scale of lateness.

All train stations are rat infested. And have piles of rubbish and human shit and pools of piss on the tracks next to the platforms, which the rodents just lurrrve to get involved with. This particular rat infestation was a good one though, as they were winding up a dog by popping their heads up from cracks on the platform around us before disappearing just before the dog reached them. Like a monster game of Whac-A-Mole. But with a different small furry mammal. And a feral dog, not a stick. The dog was going berserk trying to catch them, intermittently looking around expectantly at people in the hope that they would sympathise with his predicament and give him a morale boost by telling him he was doing a neato job and that he should keep at it; As the prophet Aaliyah (God rest her soul) once said -

And if (r)at first you don't succeed
Then dust yourself off and try again
You can dust it off and try again, try again
Cause if (r)at first you don"t succeed
You can dust it off and try again
Dust yourself off and try again, try again.

He's probably still scurrying around the platform now.

We played a spot of poker again. Sam won. He needed the money anyway after forking out for the Sandalwood oil.

The train journey was very nice, and we had some time to spare, so we stopped by this churchy thing -

IT WAS SO HOT AND BRIGHT WE FELT LIKE OUR EYES WERE GOING TO BURN OUT OF OUR SKULLS AND THE GROUND BURNT OUR FEET COS YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED SHOES ON INSIDE AND WE HAD SOME DODGY FOOD AND FELT HORRIBLE.

But it was pleasant nonetheless. A wonder.

What wasn't pleasant was the wait on the bus to the next train station. For some reason the local government has music time in Agra, where a series of connected loud speakers around the city start BLARING out distorted highly highly highly repetitive Bollywood tunes. These speakers look like cartoon ear trumpets, and only treble escapes from the tiny tweeters. Pain inducing sharp treble. IT IS SO HORRIBLE, THAT WE WOULD PREFER AN HOUR OF U-BOLLOCKING-2 OR AC-MUNTING-DC OR 'METRO, THE FLIPPING MUSICAL'. So that, on top of the tremendous heat, our dicky tummies, train catching anxiety and the trip fatigue, made for an all time low in the Quilliam Brothers India Trip.

Actualllllyyyyy i tell a lie. The bus driver failed to stop at the train station, despite constant reassurance that we were ok. So, 5 minutes passed, and we asked again. He said '5 minutes, no problem' and dropped us in the piss-middle of chuff-where. We were at the mercy of the not particularly pleasant townsfolk. I bloody hate having a backpack. Thrown anywhere with no luggage and my happiness will be comparable to Larry's, but a back pack each and a large bag of tea each plus other bits and bobs (23 scarves for example) makes for a stressful time. So this was even lower - Arguing with the cocky rickshaw drivers that were trying to diddle us, who had power over us as we had no alternative and a train to catch, who then dropped us off at the disgusting station all the while winding us up by purposefully laughing in our faces (not exaggerating for the sake of a good anecdote). klasbhjkahsdkfvasjdbfsad.

Here's 2 pictures that didn't fit anywhere, but i like them. They are from Agra.

But the train was simply incredible. We splurged on the final long train journey. Another Rajdhani Express. A blissful train ride shared with 3 chaps from Delhi that had spent 2 years studying in Leeds. Bizarrely enough. (for those not acquainted with the North of England, Leeds is down the road from Newcastle). Their Muslimy needs meant they kept going to pray with a compass, as presumably being on a train means you never are sure if you are facing Mecca-wards. I have deep respect for anyone who commits themselves to all that praying. I struggle to muster enough gusto to have a wee or eat, never mind enthusiastically worship Allah.

So, mid-morning we slowly trundled through the outskirts, past slum suburb upon slum suburb, bringing the intoxicating and addictive smell and feel of Mumbai back to our excitable goose bumped bodies (the goose bumps might've been from the tremendous fever that we were rocking, it was hard to tell).

The plane departed that evening. So we had hours to kill. There are 20 million + people in Mumbai and surrounds (don't let Wikipedia fool you). I know 4 people there, and i had seen 3 of them by the time we had dumped our bags at the hotel. That left 1 person, called John who is a student from Kerela. A delightful chap with a wonky eye. You can appreciate that i was a tad flabbergasted at seeing him in a park. Bloody amazing.

Here is 1 of the 4 people we know in Mumbai, in all his moustachey greatness -

We spent the time wandering, drinking tea, dreaming of hobnobs, never being more than a 50 metre dash from a toilet, before taking the hour long taxi ride to the airport as we sat in silence, staring, reminiscing about the trip whilst the wind through the open window ruffled our hair, and a movie sound track played in our imaginations.

And thus, a year ago to this very day, we completed the near 3 week circuit. Some thoughts -

India is the most intoxicating travelling experience. If you hit it with the right frame of mind, you will be rewarded with some of the most amazing times of your life. As soon as that frame of mind gets warped though, you will have some of the most un-amazing times of your life. There is so much variety in the country. So much life and soul. For a country that runs on deceit and exploitation there is an overwhelming feeling of pure human honesty. No frills. No beating around bushes. No concealment.

At times as a tourist it's hard to judge how much of a fuss to make when you have been taken for a ride, that's if you ever do realise you have been taken for a ride. It's hard to know how much to haggle down the cost of your ride, and to work out whether you actually wanted the ride in the first place or have been tricked into it. But you can guarantee that the ride will always be an experience, and there aren't that many things that can count as a bad experience whilst travelling. If you are left naked in a ditch with only half a chapati and an HB pencil to your name, at least you will be telling or thinking about the story for years to come, and it is something that has happened to you, and you alone. Something you can cherish as a unique experience. It may've felt slightly shit at the time, but treasure the shitness, bask in the shitness. For at least you are not stuck in an office, fully clothed, with a prepackaged salad (as you're on a diet because all you do is sit in the office), asking to borrow your colleague's (who pretends to like you) HB pencil because yours just snapped whilst writing 'Fish Fingers!' on a Tesco shopping list that you have to purchase before you get in and watch X Factor. That is true shitness.

It's been written about loads n loads, the guilt and inner turmoil felt whilst being a tourist in a developing country. People roughing it whilst you are tucking into your 3rd massive meal of the day, and all that. We can but second those emotions, take it as life education, and make sure it effects us in a positive way; a way that pushes you to help the world, not stick your fingers in your ears, scrunch your eyes closed and sing 'God Save The Queen' loudly.

What is always on the mind though, when riding the number 1 bus through Newcastle, sitting in the garden with a cuppa, waiting with fish fingers in the Tesco queue, reading 'Cosmo' before nodding off at night or at any other time where the mind is free for a moment, is that the world doesn't stop when you leave: that the lady that breaks little rocks into littler rocks by the river in Jorethang for 50 rupees a day is there now breaking little rocks into littler rocks, that Moni is sitting on the Ghat in Varanasi befriending foreigners, that the Rhinos in Kaziranga are happily munching their way through the thick grasses oblivious to the fact that they are a species dangerously close to extinction, that the chai wallahs are pumping their little gas stoves, that the rickshaw drivers are beeping their horns, that the tea pickers are picking, that the monkeys are monkeying around, that the cicadas are creaking, that the rats are probably still pestering the dog, that the homeless Mumbaikars are staring at the stars in their cots in the stifling heat near a banyan tree, that the millions upon millions of Indians are in their incredible country, doing whatever they do to make it the bloody amazing place it is.

It's not a radical observation, that the world doesn't stop, but it is so easy to disconnect yourself from somewhere as soon as you leave. To think of it as somewhere that performed for you, and as soon as you left, it stopped the show. But India, you have most definitely made an impact - there is no way we will stop dreaming of your cool velvety sugar cane juice, your hot hot Mumbai Wada Paw, the fresh Himalayan air, the rush of travelling on ALL forms of transport, the chaos, the stress, the excitement, the beauty, the filth, the generous hospitality, the cheating conniving taxi wallahs, everything good and bad, everything, everything.

It was a marvellous trip, and as far as companions are concerned, you couldn't wish for better.

Here endeth the India Trip Saga

Theatrical Equipment.

2011-03-15T15:34:00.004Z

Hello Blog Enthusiasts!

Exciting day today it was.

A lot of you may know (after our televisual appearance) that we attended the Newcastle Theatre Royal auction last week. A jolly day was had, with free cup-cakes and bubbly. The initial excitable buzz wore off after a few lots, and prices dropped suitably enough for us to start raising our '541' bat.

And we did raise it, many times.

In the end we were the most active in the crowd, and nabbed ourselves numerous chairs, numerous light fittings and many a large velvet curtain! All to kit out the cinematic area in the Tea House.

So today we picked up all the kit from the now empty theatre royal -

And we couldn't resist putting some of the curtains up in our flat. And erecting a seat. Here they are-

Unfortunately we couldn't collect the light fittings as the organisers didn't think it all through - they needed the lights to be able to see.

So that's all exciting isn't it?

BIGLOVE

THE QUILLIAM CONTINGENT (with enviably opulent drapes)

Day 18 - A Genuine Ghatfest

2011-03-13T15:19:00.015Z

Day 18

It's hard to recall, tucked up in bed with jarmies on, cup of sencha cradled in hands for warmth, with a flipping gale blowing outside, what 45-50 degrees C feels like. But put it this way - It drains you, completely. And stresses you. Your brain refuses to process much information, other than 'fuck it's hot, fuck it's hot.' And you have to sit down in the shade a lot, drinking cold drinks. So things take longer than they normally would do.

We sweatily headed to breakfast at a recommended establishment. A textbook tourist jaunt, with pillows to sit on, Prem Joshua playing in the background, fans in your face and an extensive multi cuisine menu. The chaps running the place were hospitable, and they did well to supply us with our fuel for the morning. One quite amazing event occurred. I saw a female in the corner of the room, and much to my surprise it was someone i had met about 2 years earlier, in Budapest. We got on well, and stayed in contact for a bit after meeting in BP, but that died. But lo and behold, here she was. In India. Amazing. Jacy was her name-o. And probably still is - I'll ask her when i see her again, in a bus stop in Shanghai.

So, Varanasi. 'Tis a city of Ghats. Many a Ghat. SO MANY GHATS. Ghats here, Ghats there. GHATS GHATS GHATS GHATS.

So, what's a ghat? Confusingly enough, it can mean a few things. The first contact with ghats came when in South East India. Travelling the Eastern Ghats. And they were talking about using a ghat to get to another town. But then outside a temple, they were talking about ghats again, and pointing to some steps to the water. My brain didn't know what was going on, so it just shrugged and pretended it did.

In the first case it was just the name of a mountain range - the Eastern and Western Ghats. Secondly, a mountain pass can be called a ghat. And thirdly, a set of steps leading to a body of water is also called a ghat. The third option is what we're dealing with in Varanasi.

Many things happen on Ghats. Cleaning, clothes washing, praying, worshipping, boating, cremation, contemplating, music playing, cricketing, meditating, kiting, yoga-ing, chai drinking, pocket picking, post card selling, etc-ing. It's a hive of activity along the 100ish ghats, that cover 3-4 km along the Ganges in Varanasi. And quite spectacular it is too. Eye opening. Here are some ghat based larks -

As soon as you penetrate the warren of the old town, your bearings get well'n'truly lost. Well ours did. We ended up some 3 km away from where we were meant to be at one point, and some poor bicycle rickshaw took us all three back after much persuading. We tipped him heavily though, and i think he relished the challenge.

If we didn't end up lost whilst navigating the wonderfully chaotic back streets, we inevitably found ourselves at the Manikarnika Ghat. Even if we began our journey on the other side of town some portal would transport us there, and we would emerge into the blistering sun, squinting, confused.

The Manikarnika Ghat is the main cremation ghat. A constant stream of bodies are carried down the Ghat by loved ones. They are dropped onto previously haggled piles of wood, that have been calculated with weight and body fat in mind (we were informed that cremation is a complicated procedure, and knowing how much wood and oil is needed, and how to set up the wood and take other factors into account such as wind and heat of day etc takes generations of experience) before the eternal flame (that occasionally goes out) is walked 5 times round the body and the tinder grasses set alight before the added fragrant oils take over, and the body fat starts rendering, and the whole lot goes up in a whoomph. It takes roughly 300 kg of wood per pyre, and they cremate 100+ ex-people a day on the Manikarnika Ghat alone (there are other burning ghats). So as you can imagine, that is ALOT OF WOOD. It piles up around the ghat, where people peruse which they would like to use for their loved ones. The rich folk would use at least a small percentage of sandal wood or other expensive timber, whilst the others are left with what ever they can afford.

They do not allow the burning of children, pregnant ladies, lepers or people that have died from cobra bites. Instead they will tie a block of stone to them, and row out about 100 metres into the Ganges, and dump them over the side of the boat. That took our eye-spy dead person count up from 1 to 47 over the space of about 2 hours.

To take our minds back to a slightly less bizarre place, a very horny bull came stumbling down the ghat and his testosterone fuelled advances on an uninterested cow were duly noted, and a monkey started very successfully aggravating a dog. Then i slipped on a sloppy cow turd, nearly going arse over tit.

So as you can imagine, with all this death being dumped into the Ganges at Varanasi, and with the added pollution of millions upon millions of us dirty humans living/working along it, the river ain't that clean. To quote Wikipedia -

-Along the stretch of terraced bathing ghats in the holy city of Varanasi, the water of the Ganges is a brown soup of excrement and industrial effluents. The water there contains 60,000 faecal coliform bacteria per 100 ml, 120 times the official limit of 500 faecal coliforms/100ml that is not considered safe for bathing.

Mmmmm, faecal coliforms.

And it is by no means the worlds dirtiest river either.

But everyone there bathes in, washes their clothes in and drinks from this holy waterway. There is some method in their madness - amongst the filth in the river, bacteriophages are carried. These miraculous bacteriophages parasitise deadly bacteria such as cholera and dysentery, leaving the water slightly less harmful. Still wouldn't catch us taking a glug though, no matter how holy it is.

Varanasi, or Banaras, is the Hindu capital of the world. Though it is sacred for Buddhists and Jains also. Consequently it is a city of temples and worship. Cows wander the labyrinthine alleyways, whilst monkeys play above you. It also likes its silk. So you will be constantly badgered until you buy a silk scarf or 23. Like all major Indian tourist hot spots, it is filthy and incredible. Quite a sight. Can you imagine bringing stories and sketches of somewhere like this back to Blighty back in them olden days?…? -

No wonder we wanted it for our own.

After wandering around a bit more, seeing all sorts of eye opening whotsits, we headed back for a siesta - Just bringing a slice of Mediterranean culture to India. Got up to date on the ICL. Before heading out again as the sun was setting.

At the Dashaswamedh Ghat, which is the main ghat in Banaras, there is a ceremony every evening. I would love to tell you what this consists of, apart from noise and fire, but our attentions were taken away by meeting a lovely girl called Moni. (pat filmed a bit though, so take from it what you will-)

She lives on the main ghat, without a home or father, and makes her living selling postcards for 7 rupees (10p).

She sat next to us, put her pile of postcards down and said-

'i saw you this morning, but you were walking soooo fast i couldn't keep up.'

as if she knew who we were and we knew who she was. And went on as if there wasn't any point in beating around the bush, we were friends, and that was that.

We talked for a long while, and met with her mother, with whom we had a disjointed natter.

At 10 years old (she thinks) her dream is to travel and to stay with everyone she knows around the world (she keeps a little book of phone numbers of all the tourists she has met). She can't afford regular schooling, so cannot read and write, but her intelligence is obvious. From her amazing language skills to her quick wittedness. Getting a passport will be nigh on impossible, and raising the money practically a pipe dream. But for some reason, you know that she will do it.

Everybody knew her on the ghat. So she received gifts of chai (which she wasn't that fond of) and other little nibbles. Seemed that people were looking out for each other (A trait that generally decreases as wealth increases).

Quite an inspirational thing she is, something that is rare to find in people. So when you do see it in someone, it makes quite the impact. We hope she is well.

After everything had died down on the Dashaswamedh Ghat, we dined next to a mental procession, headed hotelwards and fell asleep watching the cricket.

Day 16 AND 17! Yes, that's right, it's 'buy one blog get one free' day today!

2011-02-27T23:20:00.013Z

Up by 6 am. Said goodbye to the cheeky little peaks-

Straight to the astonishingly punctual jeep for the beautiful ride to Pelling, where one expects mountain views a plenty!

But it was v.v.v. cloudy when we got there. Not a problem - We were assured that at the crack of sparrow fart every morning, without exception, the clouds part to reveal mountain views a plenty! So there was no way we WOULDN'T see the mountains! Hurray!

- Not so. We ran into a person who had been there for 2 weeks, and there hadn't been a cloudless moment in all that time. Oh well. We embraced the fact that we would just be chilling out, sans mountain views, though a little bit of hope was carried with us at all times...

It was still morning after we had chosen and checked in to our digs for the night. So we had ourselves a little breakfast. Tom Omelette. Pat Paratha. Sam Pancake. All with some ever so tasty Chai Masala.

Let's talk about masala chai in some detail shall we?

Just like everything in India, it is region specific. Not only that, it is also vendor specific. So there will be a noticeable difference in taste between two corners on the same street. Masala, as most of you will know from the likes of Garam Masala, means spice mix. So chai masala is tea made with a spice mix. This ordinarily contains some/none/all of these - cloves, ginger, cardamom, black pepper, cinnamon, though there are other ingredients still. Bikaner, in Rajasthan in the West near the pakistan border, claims to be the home of Masala Chai. But i am sure that will be the case for many a proud city. Though whilst there, their vendors were only throwing in 2 freshly crushed cardamom pods and a little grated ginger per cup. A few vendors prefer the powdered mix option. Old biddies create their own powdered masala mixes, and flog them (we purchased many, for educational reasons.)
A fatty buffalo milk is used, and a similar taste can be recreated here in Blighty using full fat milk, though condensed milk is sometimes used (So some books say. We have never witnessed it though.)
They use a strong CTC tea (see previous blog post about CTC tea) which is ferociously boiled in the milk and sugar for a couple of minutes, and turns the mixture that beautiful glossy orangey brown colour, that if they could harness i would paint my whole house with.
Then pass it all through a muslin cloth, then straight into tiny little glasses/disposable clay cups (the latter being the law in parts of India). It's a speedy process, and frantic, but there's usually a kid around to help the master.

It's a marvellous bit of culture. Men stand (or sit or crouch) for hours and hours sipping from their miniature glasses, business men quickly nip out to grab a sugary hit before heading back to graft, you are brought a glass by the wallah whilst talking to shop keepers, which just gets added to their slate. It's not a commitment, because the glass is so small, and it IS VERY sweet, but that matters not, for the same reason. The price ranges from 4 - 10 rupees (5 - 14p).
Tea wasn't big amongst the masses in Inja until only 50-60 years ago after the Tea Association of India pushed tea breaks for workers in coal mines, cotton mills, factories and other industrial places. Tea stalls were set up at these locations as well as in towns, and small contractors were equipped with kettles and tea to sell at major railway junctions. Now it is a part of every day life around much of India. Amazing what a bit of slightly sinister product pushing by a major association can do...

Here in the UK, our idea of chai is of the chai lattes available in those CORPORATE COFFEE ESTABLISHMENTS THAT ARE TURNING OUR ONCE EXCITING CITY CENTRES INTO BLAND CHARACTERLESS CLONES. That is not chai. As they use those sweetened syrups, which are nice, but not used to make real chai. When we finally open the Quilliam Brothers Tea Hoose, please do pop in, and we will educate your taste buds. We will have various masala chai recipes, including some seasonal ones (christmas ones with essence of jolly beard, autumn ones with extract of brisk morning walks, summer ones with powdered knotted hanky and suntan lotion overzealousness, and spring time ones with juice of snow drop and talk of improving weather).

So after this breakfast in Pelling we went for a walk to a monastery. We asked a local and he pointed in a direction. We walked for ages. Then asked another local. He pointed in another direction. We walked for ages. Then we asked another local. And he said it was back the way we came. We walked for ages. Then asked another local who pointed somewhere completely different. We walked for ages. Until we were knackered. So we headed back. Turned out not one of the directions had been the right one. Anyone who spends some time in India will realise that you will never receive a 'no' in response to 'do you know where such and such a place is?' They will always give you an answer even if they haven't a clue. Frustrating, but quite endearing. This is what we did see -

A bush with legs -

Sam being a rugged adventurer and cooling himself in a brook-

A fantastic acronym -

A sign -

Another sign (this one a bit risqué) -

After lunching, Pat slept, Sam had a wander around toon and I gnashed off to another monastery which was a pleasant 45 mins away.

There was a schooling session going on at the monastery. 30 odd mini buddhists were sitting, books in hand listening to master buddhist man. I expected them to be saintly beings. But a soon as the lesson was over, they piled into the courtyard and started throwing flying kicks at each other, and stealing each others sweets, tormenting me for photos and generally being naughty. Was good to see that you cant take the mischievousness out of kids. This is what i did see -

And a cat with a wing in its mouth -

The afternoon was spent lounging around, reading, drinking tea and playing poker at a nice cafe. Watched War Inc when returned to hotel. Bizarre movie.

Slept soundly with intermittent dreams of massive mountains. Woke at 5 for the promised views. Walked to viewing hill. Disappointment. This is what we did see -

Bus came at 7 and took us back to Jorethang, and then amazingly a jeep left straight to Darjo, with customary passenger vomit at the border and bouncy bounciness. We arrived way earlier than expected, so made the mega decision to make our way to Varanasi that afternoon.

Quick trip round Margaret's Hope -

Quick tea purchase.

Quick get bus ticket.

Quick lunch.

Quick in Jeep.

And BLEZZ down the mountain.

Bus was to leave at 4. Jeep due to arrive at 4. Jeep got flat tyre. So called bus company. They said that we have to hurry. So we asked the jeep driver to hurry hurry. And indeed he did. Our knuckles were white and our pantaloons soiled on arrival. We ran to the bus, and got there for 4.30. Stressed and exhausted we sat. And sat. And sat. And sat. The bus left after 7.

Me and pat were buggering around with photographicals, whilst sam was on the daddy of all ket runs.

-The word 'ket' means sweets in Geordie (or lollies if you are Antipodean), but has taken on a somewhat sinister meaning since people have started taken ketamine recreationally. Mmmmm, Anaesthetic.-

Anyhoo, he somehow sourced some fruitella, which was pretty much the sole reason morale stayed at a reasonable level during the journey to Varanasi. Those of you who are not familiar with fruitella should get yourselves acquainted with the chewy cuboid.

Now then. This bus journey was interesting. Firstly we had been given the back seats which should hold 5 people. But were actually holding 8 or 9. One of these 8 or 9 peoples was completely wasted and kept screaming at people, then staring at them with the purest of hatred. Sometimes we were the object of this drunken emotion. And of course the bus was ridiculously bumpy. So you would find your derriere slowly slipping of the back seat if you dared to fall asleep. It was stinking hot. And stinking. And we got stuck in a 4 hour traffic jam outside Patna, where we were to change to a train. So it took some 16 hours. Not a pleasant place to be for 16 hours. But it was good craic nonetheless.

Check out the change of colour of Pats t shirt after being in a fumey indian traffic jam for four hours with the windows open -

This has not been fiddled with in the Photo Shop, or in a muddy puddle. This is seriously the filth from dust and exhausts. Mmmmm, clogged lungs.

The train station and surrounding area of Patna is fucking feral. It was so very very hot with flies and dead animals and phlegming and general disgustingness everywhere. It was also heartbreaking to see the naked kids playing in the filth and rubble. With nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Except one of the kids found a plastic bottle, and made a game of hitting his tiny sister over the head with it until she cried. Then he had something. But it wasn't a great something.

We went to a ticket counter and asked for the first possible train ticket to Varanasi. They said everything was full. ARGHHHH. So we asked if there was anything that could be done. He said go to counter 94. Finding counter 94 was quite the challenge. But find it we did. The man asked if we were foreign tourists. I said yes, indeed we were. He looked at his system. And said tourist quota was also full. He said

'wait here.'

We waited here. And he returned with 3 tickets.

He said

'There is always space if you look hard enough', and smiled.

I owe that man a present. My first born, for example. Our hearts couldn't have lifted more than they did when he said that. The thought of spending a night in Patna was not filling us with joy.

So a pleasant 2 hour journey was had to Varanasi. It was one of those gorgeous train rides where you really feel the uplifting wind in your face and the incredible freedom of travel in india. A nice change from suffocating stifling Patna.

Crossing the Ganges as the sun was beginning to set -

That is a very good example of what makes travelling so very addictive, as is wittered on about here

Here is the journey, just for those who want to know. You can zoom out n stuff to can get the full idea of where in the world we were n that yeah -

View Larger Map

Arrival in Varanasi was chaotic. It was dark, and we got straight in the first rickshaw offering a reasonable price. Varanasi is heavily pedestrianised so rickshaws can only take you so far. You have to then walk 20 minutes to the centre. We were all fatigued by now after nearly 40 hours of continuous travel. So i had a sit down at the first hotel that said it was full while the glorious Pat and Sam went on a reconnaissance mission. 4 hotels later they found the one for us. i.e the one with space. It was our last hotel that we would be staying in, so we splurged on an air conditioned room (get us) with 3 beds in (well, 2 beds and a cot).

After dumping stuff we eagerly went to their much advertised roof top restaurant. We had low blood sugar. We were tired. And our bodies were aching. So, a nice curry would've been well received. BUT THERE WAS 'CLASSICAL MUSIC' PLAYING IN THE CORNER REALLY LOUDLY. This consisted of some tabla a harmonium and a man with bells on his feet who was singing and stamping. I love me a raga or two when played by wonderful musicians in a place suitable for the genre. Not in a tiny restaurant played by people who couldn't give a shit. The food was delicious though, especially when they packed up and left half way through.

Sleep was so wonderful. So very wonderful. Dreaming of the many delights that Varanasi has to offer. And it has MANY….

Day 15 from April 2010

2011-02-14T13:25:00.011Z

Day 15

In Yuksom, Sikkim, the day begins when light appears. Sort of 6 am-ish. And after going to bed at 8pm, this wasn't too hideous. In fact it was lovely, as we were greeted with views of some of the highest Himalaya. And, cradling cups of hot chocolate as a warming aid, we sat outside looking at the view of Kanchenjunga, and breathed the slowly warming crisp, clean air as the village came to life. Yak passing, bells clanging. Kids running, giggling. Men loitering, smoking. There's a different kind of silence up there. A true silence that makes you glow with pure happiness. People are shouting, yes. Birds are tweeting, yes. Pots and pans are clattering, yes. But this all seems to only exaggerate the calm, as the noise seems pathetic compared to the vast miles of nothing in every direction. There are generally no mechanical noises. Until the jeeps arrive for the day.

It's quite the spectacle when the jeeps arrive. The owners of the vehicles are the village heroes. More valuable than doctors or teachers. They bring supplies, news, tourists, and the adventurous villagers back home. So there's always a good turnout. Shopkeepers, hoteliers, cafe owners, gawking children, relieved relatives, busybodies, and nosey parkers all gather for the daily ritual.

Yuksom sits at an elevation of around 2000m, and consists of a few shacks, a few concrete buildings, a few shops, a road and a few quaint eateries. It's main tourist draw is the fact that it is the starting point for the Goecha La trek. This is a 8 day (± 2 days) hike to the Goecha La pass. At 5000 metres, you are greeted with truly jaw dropping views of Kanchenjunga, and other large mountains. Apparently. We had no time to do it, but it remains high on the list of want-to-do hikes. Otherwise, Yuksom is just a lovely lovely village, with friendly people, and beautiful mini walks to various Buddhist monasteries.

We did one of those mini walks to Dubdi Gompa, up the very steep, but amazingly well kept cobbled path.

Lovingly tended gardens and fantastic views (when the clouds parted) greeted us at the top of the hill. And again, silence that allowed one to feel at one with one's inner one.

At the bottom of the hill, we had lunch, and played (=sharked) a spot of poker with a friendly Aussie man.
Surveying the scenes of men standing around, women nattering, and kids playing a serious game of marbles (which involved innovative use of your fingers to catapult the marbles at scary speeds), one of us piped up with -
'I wonder what people do here all day, everyday'
In all his Aussie wisdom, the man responded-
'Root.'

(That's Australian for having relations)

After lunch, we walked again, this time with the INSANE Tassi as company and as guide. Using the word guide very loosely. We went to another couple of monasteries and the birthplace of the Sikkim King. It was just delightful -

After this nice walking, we dinnered with a person who's name i cant remember, but i think it was Beardy McKnowitall, and a couple of annoying french Buddhists that had previously patronisingly scolded Sam and Pat for walking the wrong way around the prayer bell house thing. Yes yes, you are westerners that have adopted a religion that is not usual for westerners, and yes, Buddhism is probably the best of a bad bunch. But if you would please get off your high horse and hang with us down on earth, or at least on a less obtrusive equine, everyone would be oh so much happier, you pompous swines! I have great trouble with the self righteous swagger adopted by those that think that they have found themselves. Those that have truly become close to finding themselves must surely know that every single person, including themselves, is occasionally a twat, can therefore dissect, analyse and learn from their mistakes, learn from others mistakes, apologise, and forgive if necessary. But this changes you. So you can never truly find yourself, because yourself is constantly moving and changing, with every conversation, thought, experience and exchange it evolves. It is a big enough challenge to vaguely keep up with yourself, and nigh on impossible a challenge to find it. So those that walk with the air of being a better human than you because they KNOW who they are, are embarrassingly mistaken.

Open-mindedness is a term fraught with contradictions and misunderstandings. Mostly because those that accuse people of being closed-minded and fling the term open-minded about are usually so hell bent on opening their mind that it actually does the reverse. They do not let anything considered normal/usual in and automatically believe the unbelievable and follow the unconventional with great vigour lest they be witnessed going against all that they stand for. Consequently they shut their noggin off to a huge percentage of life. It is these very people that are the ones that usually find themselves. And i suppose it's easy to find yourself with a closed mind - there's no where for it to run and hide. The great Tim Minchin nicked this off some other great person -

'Open your mind too much, and your brain will fall out.'

Unfortunately, this mentality is very much intertwined with a specific breed of traveller. And this specific breed makes up a fair few of those knocking about India. Some examples of the sort of folk i'm on aboot -

Example 1-

'Chaps, I'm just heading down to the main Ghat to play on my Authentic Indian Bamboo Flute, as i know there will be a tremendous amount of people sitting there enjoying the ambience who cant help but listen to my vague attempt at correctly playing the Indian scale that my good friend Vimal from Goa taught me over christmas. I will occasionally sneak a glance to my force fed audience, to see that they are watching/listening, and hopefully a mental sadhu will come and talk to me and i will take a photograph so when i get back to England i can tell everyone who cares to listen about the day i was hanging out at the Ghat practising my Authentic Indian Bamboo flute and a sadhu came and sat with me and we philosophised, smoked a bidi, meditated and stuff, yeah. So I'll see you all later for some Chai Tea, yeah? '

Example 2-

'Oh my godddd, Lucy, how are you? I havent seen you since Osho's Ashram. It's sooooo, great seeing you again. I'm fine yes, just been experiencing life for the first time, you know? Life. Yeah, i knowwwww, it's amazing isn't it? Really? Well, this morning i woke up and did my exercises, and the VIBRATIONS! Oh my god, i've never felt anything like it. What? No, but what i felt was real, you know, 100 percent. I was in touch with every atom. It gets stronger every day. The world has so many colours now. I don't want for anything, i need no material items, only my inner self. Me and Gouri? Well i gave him a rose when we said good bye at Osho's as a symbol of our love. He tried to get my number and address, but that's just weird. I had to explain that my love for him was deeper than anyone else could understand, and what we had at Osho's was so magical that it shouldn't be forced. He cried. He cried a lot. But that's because right now he's a youthful being - he will grow. I love his soul, and i am forever connected with him now, you know? And our souls will meet again if it is written…..'

*access internet on expensive mobile device*

'Shit, he's found me on facebook.'

Example 3-

'I'll have the cheese toasty and some chips please. Oh, and a Chai. Thanks. Can you tell me if you think this is good Julianne? I get so insecure about my poetry. Oh my god, i'm so nervous. I'll have to read it quietly so only you can hear, not so everyone in this small cafe hears my words of self discovery.'

*In a VERY LOUD VOICE*-

'Candles glimmer
Behind, father moon shimmers.
A cloud of souls forever balloon to the sky,
With open arms, welcomed for a while.
The bosom of mother earth
A mantra of re-birth
Inside myself, i search readily
Awaiting the moment of discovery....'

*Friend says it was lovely behind clenched teeth, repressed cringes and embarrassed glances*

-'you really think so? Oh, thankyou so much, it means a lot. Sorry to have to ask you, i just needed reassuring….

…This fucking chai tea tastes of cow.'

Side note -
What do Chai Tea, the River Tyne, the Sahara Desert and Mount Fuji have in common? - Answers on a postcard.

But these 3 examples were all people in their youth. Which is fine, and very forgivable. These 2 french buddhists were being preachy and annoying, and they were using their adult-ness to give greater weight to their statements. Which is verging on unforgivable. Like Matilda's Dad.
Pointless, hopeless people. Except to each other.

Rant rant rant rant rant. (that's a cross between a rat and an ant, thus-)

Back to Yuksom -

We wandered the 300 metres back to our sleeping place.

We saw an ant pulling a butterfly wing -

And a vicious snaggletoothed dog, that growled.

Bed by 8 pm again. zzzzzz

Can you feel the love tea-night?

2011-01-31T14:14:00.006Z

'Tis the season of love. And to celebrate this we have unleashed our Valentines Gift Pack!

Like our other gift pack, this will contain 3 relevant teas. This time we have A Stollen Moment, Cup of Rosey and Strawberry Pepper Rooibos. These teas are lovingly packaged in ever-so-cute 50g tins. Also you get a super ball infuser, with a FREE SAMPLE, all beautifully presented, with lovely bows tied by the Quilliam Mother.

So, if you haven't a bloody clue what to get your loved one/the person you are stalking, then this gift pack is IDEAL!

Unless they dislike tea.

Sing it Lionel Richtea...

Also...

Some of our teas are now being sold at the lovely Deli-Fina in the Carruthers & Kent shopshop, just off Gosforth High Street, on Elmfield Road. So all those in the area can easily get their hands on a special selection of our dried leaves in a bag. Say hello to them @deli_fina.

That be all.

LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE

The Quilliam Brothers xoxox

New year new news.

2011-01-21T15:53:00.011Z

Cor Blimey, it's been a while.

Time outs, breathers and vacations have been taken. Nothing mega has happened, apart from some new boxes, some right royal Royal Mail cock ups (If i was the Queen i'd be well and truly ashamed of my postal service, and politely but sternly lash the person responsible with my royal whip for shaming my name. Then I would use my powers to change my name to Queen DumbleFluff and get some plastic surgery for a massive {like, really massive} nose, so they would have to change the coins and the stamps and everything with my small nose on. In fact they would have to make the stamps really wide to fit my nose on, and the coins would have to be a weird oval shape....but that's neither here nor there.) and some much appreciated online tea retail. Basically, things have been coasting.

Which is a nice link to some thoughts we had on coasters yesterday.

For all you hip hop folks -

And for all you biddies (not that the 2 parties are mutually exclusive).

Any more coaster puns, then please, do holler.

In exciting news, we have decided to invest some efforts in creating a tea bag. Now, this may seem to be going against our loose leaf ideology, but that is not the case. For we will be putting our finest loose leaf tea in the bags. Merely making things simpler for those who like it simpler - It is not the harnessing of the tea in a bag that lowers the caliber of brew, it is the quality of the tea that is often harnessed that makes it not as good. So much so, that bagged tea has become synonymous with inferior tea, and it doesn't have to be that way. Also the claustrophobic nature of some of the bags leads to a poor infusion, so we will be giving a lot of room for our leaves to do their thing. Our bags will only contain our uber delish breakfast blend for starts, but things may very well change from there. And they will be special, amazing bags. So we are doing all sorts of scribblings, inventing some froody bagging techniques. It's thrilling.

Again, if you've had any tea bag ideas on your mind of late that you have been itching to tell someone about, then please, do holler. And stop with the rude connotations! You filthy folks you.

So, apart from my shave yesterday, Sam's 5 kill streak on COD and Pat's newly installed RAM, there isn't much to report. So here's some more blog from our India trip 8 months ago-

Day 14

I take all the wrap for getting the three of us up at 7.00 am for a taxi jeep that was meant to leave at 8. It actually left at 9ish, and the 1+ hours spent waiting at the stand wasn't entirely pleasant. We saw, amongst other things-

A chicken seller man with over 100 chickens stuffed in a wheeled cage deliver his chickens at the appropriate place by poking them out with a big stick into a heap of broken limbs and squarking agony and distress onto the floor before throwing them through the door at his loyal customer.

We saw a little kid walking with his dad to school take a sweet out of its wrapper and pop it into his mouth, then put the wrapper in his pocket. We then witnessed his father tell him off for putting the wrapper in his pocket, and instruct him to throw it on the floor. This when there was a bin about 50 cm's from them both. That's some top parenting right there!

And of course we saw a huge amount of phlegming, dogs shitting, fuel guzzling jeeps and general festiness. Darjeeling jeep stand is not one of our most favourite of places.

But, the jeep ride was gorgeous, through tea estates and wonderful villages, up and down ever so steep roads with hair pin after hair pin, over rickety bridges and scary fjords.

stopped at the Singtom tea estate (delish) for a quick purchase and finally got to the Sikkim border.

We handed our precious form in and waited a bit for them to fanny around, with their loaded weapons at their sides, and their stern stares on their fizogs. All good, we arrived in Jorethang, where a kind gentleman helped us organise our next jeep up to Yuksom. With 2 hours to kill, we ate loads of Momos

and took a walk in the monsterly heavy air to the river. This is what we did see -

-The riverside was quite, quite bizarre. Totally baron and rank on one side, and a beautifully kept monastery on t'other, thus-

Eventually we left, on the trip to Yuksom

View Larger Map

This is what we did see -

We were sharing the jeep with a lovely female person, who was called Athanansis, or something. The driver sounded EXACTLY like Pingu's Dad. The air got cooler/cleaner, the views got breathtakinger, and we had a little stop in a village. Just enough time to stretch our legs and see a cow getting slaughtered.

Arriving in Yuksom, we had to choose which establishment we were to stay in. The cheapest won. Surprise, surprise. 3 in a double bed, in the moistest room known to man. Hotel Yak. With a MENTAL LAD called Tassi as our customer service representative. He had a fantastic lack of knowledge, and offered his tour guide services for a very unreasonable price. We said no. Despite this, he was always with us, showing us around. Except when there were big hills to climb.

We had a brief wander to a few Buddhist sights, and took in the serenity and appreciated the marvellous feeling of calm that prayer flags bring to a place.

After that, with lovely athansis (?) as company, we ate from the extensive menu -

and obeyed the 8pm police controlled curfew. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Day 13 of the ages ago india trip

2010-12-19T22:22:00.008Z

Day 13. (April 2010)

When leaving a hotel in most of urban India, you find yourself deeply inhaling just before stepping out of the door. This is, presumably, your body and mind getting itself prepared for the onslaught on the senses. Because, WHAM, everything hits you at once-

BEEP, squark, brrrmmm, BEEP, woofgrrrr, sizzle, ShOUt, sweep, BANG, wake me up before you go-go, ShOUt BaCK, drrrrrrrrr, bleurghh, moooo, BEEP, BEEP, doink, PHLEGM, Prrrp, DISTORTED MuSiC, dzzzzzz, dzzzzzz, BEEEEEP, whoomph, brrrmm, on the ears.

Burning oil, shit, deep frying pakora, petrol, stagnant piss, incredible spices, rancid sweat, bubbling chai, vomit, George Michael, festering drains, smoking incense, hot engines, gas burners, fermenting bins, on the nose.

And all of the above plus more on the eyes.

And despite Darjeeling being one of the more civilised cities in India, things are still the same. Like you exit from your little safety bubble of a hotel into this crazy other world in which you need to hold on tight to your sanity, otherwise it may very well be lost and you will find yourself sucked into the chaos, becoming just another noise maker in the whole theatrical production - 'INDIA!', the stage show. In which you will play 'shouty beepy taxi driver 23'. It's a small role, but just as important as 'nice beardy Jalebi fryer', and 'inconveniently placed turding cow'.

That is how day 13 began, and it continued as a day of silly silly bureaucracy, wasted time and a feeling of being ready to move on.

We were planning to head to Sikkim. Sikkim is a state of India, North of Darjeeling. It borders Nepal, China (Tibet) and Bhutan, and is a little nubbin sticking out from the top of West Bengal. It is often described as being thumb shaped -

Wow, i was a nonbeliever, but having just made that to prove it is not thumb shaped, it turns out it actually is.

…..And it is a restricted area. Meaning you need a buggering form to enter (NB, not a form that permits you to bugger). The reasons for visiting were those of tea, mountains and serenity. As it turned out, only 1 of those actually came true.

To obtain this buggering form, you have to go to the foreigners registration office, wait, fill in a form, wait, stamp form, wait, get told to go to the permit office between the hours of 12.30 and 12.33 with 2 passport photos, your form, and your passport, get 2 passport photos made, hike to permit office....

wait, wait, wait, present form, wait....

...get passport signed and stamped, wait, receive back buggering form, get told to return to foreigners registration office, with passport and form, hike back to reg. office, wait, wait, wait, wait and get form finally stamped, with a begrudging, untrusting look on the stampers face. Fin.

The funny thing is that even though they tell you to get your photos done, the registration office and the permit office don't communicate, so the reg. office doesn't know that the permit office no longer needs the photos, and the permit office thinks that it's the reg. office that uses the photos, even though they don't. Either that, or they have a nice little thing going with the passport photo people...

It is amazing that everything still runs. During the whole form escapade, we saw maybe 30-40 people in various offices. The total number of people actually doing ANYTHING? - 2. And even then, it was with not much enthusiasm, gusto nor commitment. And my god, the piles of paper. Cartoony office piles, teetering, dusty and age stained. And drawers upon little drawers containing god knows what. Bloody brilliant!

So, with Sikkim trip on the schedule for the next few days, we tidied up our Darjeeling stay. Bought some tea (we were now rocking some 30 kilos) and 3 fabulous old pre-Raj coins (1850's), dined, said our goodbyes to various people we had met, played some poker, and went to bed early with the plan of catching the first jeep to Jorethang in the morning, via the Singtom Tea Estate.

For those stumbling across this rambling nonsense for tourist information reasons, please note, that however lengthy and tortuous the form obtaining is, it is worth it. And don't bother getting photos done, unless you want them as little gifts for strangers that take a liking to you.

GIFT PACKS

2010-12-14T15:13:00.005Z

GIFT PACKS ONLINE GIFT PACKS ONLINE GIFT PACKS ONLINE GIFT PACKS ONLINE

and new reasonabler postage rates (we want it to be free, but the best we can do is free if you order 30 quids worth. That, is a lot of tea)

Screenshot!

(shipped by Friday)

Markets and the rest

2010-12-13T00:05:00.010Z

Thankyou everyone who popped by to say howdy at the markets, it was a right pleasure to see you all. And thankyou to all new customers, for throwing caution into the wind and procuring some tea from 3 smiley fellows trying to look the part in aprons.

Our new labelling system was a success!...

{ -Here's a before n after, so you can see evolution in action-

Just so you know, we have had them lithographically done, on heat sensitive paper, and we print the black text using a direct thermal method for each and every tea. It's a time consuming business. But oh so satisfying. And infinitely better than our previous method.

Our labelling knowledge has increased, and man, it is a confusing world. Thankyou to all those involved who spent hours chatting with us and showing the factory etc etc. We shall never look at another sticker again in the same way.}

...as were the gift tins, and special gift packs. So much so, that we sold out way faster than we ever thought possible. Consequently we have to have a major restock, which will take about 3- 4 days. The packs will be available online from tomorrow, (Monday the 13th) but we wont be able to send them til Friday. Delay after annoying delay. Those from the newcastle-y area who need one may obtain one from Olive and Bean (stock depending), Clayton Street opposite Poundlanddddddd. Those from elsewhere can order one online, and we promise it will get there before Chrimbob.

Check out the new Christmas look of our Cyber page! Isn't she festive? www.quilliambrothers.com

There are also a couple of extra hidden whotnots for you to discover.

Chai went down nicely as well, though a 10 second lapse in concentration every now and again meant numerous boiling over spillages onto our hard to tame hob. The accompanying ginger biscuit, lovingly baked by the Quilliam Sister, was well received also. So we throw our thanks to her.

Basically, THANKS TO EVERYONE! (apart from the lady who muttered 'Yes, I CAN read' when we were being friendly and explaining what was in the gift pack)

In tea house news -

We have submitted our plans for the new premises, and they are getting it costed (the ruin of a place has to be renovated to shell condition). Once that has happened, we can talk contracts... Hu-flipping-rray. The place is marvellous. And we know we will fit in wonderfully there.- Big beautiful victorian building, with warreny basement. Heaven.

Til next time, i pose this intriguing query-

Which brew are you going to choose?

P.S Vinyl Jacket at the Cluny in Newcastle on Wednesday 15th - 1 performing Quilliam Brother, no tea, but solid tunes a plenty...

Newcastle Christmas Markets and Gift Packs

2010-12-05T17:31:00.004Z

Hello Tea Lovers/Haters/Nonchalanters!

FIRSTLY.

It's Sunday the 5th of December. We promised our gift packs by the 1st. But the bleeding snow has right royally fudged up our delivery of labels, which are, unfortunately, essential for the level of aesthetics we are after. We will, of course, happily write on the tins with a permanent marker if you want, but none of us are blessed with fine penmanship, and your granny wont be impressed with a tin apparently scribbled on by a 4 year old, no matter how delish the tea is.

We are hoping by the end of this week.

Until then, here's a pic of a cat nibbling on some holly, a really large cup and saucer, and a gift pack conveniently placed around this festive cuteness.

Like last year, we will be at the Newcastle Chrimbo markets. This time this Friday and Saturday, which is the 10th and 11th i believe. Hot chai, loads of tea to buy loose leaf, gift packs (Ha), lots of samples and general market cheer. Come and say hello!

Big love from us three.

Day 12

2010-11-26T16:42:00.006Z

Christmas Tea Packs will be available to order online from Dec the 1st. Oh yes they will. Labels have been the primary cause of delay. We have never thought about product labels before. But now, we will think of nothing but. Labels Labels Labels Labels Labels.

Day 12.

Something crawled in the room during the night.

PORRIDGE. Lots of.

Felt slow and grumpy.

Fixed that by going to the ZOO.

Clouded leopards, snow leopards, red pandas, asiatic bear, YAK, amongst other great animals. Stupid idiotic shouty public, winding animals up. Livid.

I am not entirely sure why we aren't going into the wildlife photography business.

Wandered back into toon.

Via an uber spicy chowmein and belated momos.

Met with Ditya, a saxophone genius of about 12 years old that i met last time. lovely kid. And his family. Who always feed me and tea me to the nines. We did do saxophoney things.

Another tea tasting sesh. This time at an official (=expensive) tea shop. Would've been fine if it weren't for the upper-middle class brits on a tea tour being pompous, raucous, a touch rumbustious and highly cringeworthy. The Eastenders theme and scratched skippy Kenny G tune bizarrely alternated on repeat repeat repeat repeat on the jukebox. Not good listening at the best of times. Gibbering wrecks in 5 minutes. Possible ethically sound form of torture to please the human rights campaigners? Me thinks so.

Had about 9 teas in total. Some were mmmm, some were nyuh, none were bleurgh. Pat loves his 2nd flush muscatels. Sam loves his darjo whites.

Went to bazaar, bit more tea bartering, sample obtaining. Bought a big green bag to transport some of the excess tea in. It was of the finest quality.

Payed the WHOPPING hotel bill (Not really whopping). Played a spot of poker with our skilfully hand crafted paper chips. Pat wiped the floor.

Dined Tibetanly - was heavy and warming. Joined by yet another delightful German and a Delhi-an photographer. Karan and Madha were their name-o's. Bed. At 9 pm. Ha.

There's weren't many visuals on the youngest and middle-est of us in this episode. So here's some footage of them waiting at a jeep rank.

A short one

2010-11-14T20:06:00.006Z

Hello all.

Our christmas packs are nearly ready!

I have been given special clearance to inform you that the packs will consist of 3 wonderful teas in gorgeous little 50 gram tins, beautifully presented in a windowed cardboard case, with an infuser and a sample, and a pretty bow.

We have the tea, the boxes, the tins, the ribbon and the infusers. All we need are the sticky labels. Not long now... we bloody hope.

On with the delayed blog...

Day 11.

There was an interruption from a cacophony of trumpety noises at 3 am-ish. We never did get to the bottom of that noise. Me and Chubs breakfasted early whilst Sam slept more.

Chowrasta is the name of the main square in Darjeeling. Spend any time there with a nice steaming glass of chai and you will see the Darjeeling people being themselves, buddhist monks in flocks, wealthy indian tourists on ponies, many a stray dog, cheeky monkeys, a naff 'dress-as-a-nepalese-person' photo booth, and possibly an incredible view to Kanchenjunga (3rd highest mountain in the world - cloud dependant). A few metres off this square, down the busy pedestrian street, a marvellous institution mothers Western tourists in Darjeeling. Glenary's. A bakery and cafe and internet cafe and bar and posh restaurant and club all in one. And they serve the closest thing to fry up's you could wish for (including 'bacon' - a square of a bizarre salty meat-esque substance). And they play a Boyzone album on repeat. Which is just ideal.

Patrick was wearing his dark rimmed glasses with a nice trim beard and a lumberjack shirt, thus -

(artists interpretation)

And then another westerner walked in WITH EXACTLY THE SAME BEARD, GLASSES AND LUMBERJACK SHIRT.

Which was great……….

THEN ANOTHER ONE WALKED IN WHO LOOKED EXACTLY THE SAME. There were 3 clones. Quite simply one of the best mornings of my life.

Not much tea activity. So i will summarise.

Cheapy Darjo tea with fry up. They put it in a pot and give you a really small cup, so it ends up over stewing if you don't drink it fast. Very silly. Much needed laundry done by lovely hoteliers. Put black spots in particularly conspicuous places to signify washed garments. Very silly. Big money change. Tibetan cuisine. MOMOMOMOMOMOMOMOMOMOMO. First visuals on a fluffy vest (see note 1), Sam misses his bird, Tried to purchase a fluffy vest for 103 rupees- they were having none of it. Pat and Sam saw some robed Tibetan Monks in a mall on a big electronic weighing machine, picture that if you will.

We then rendezvoused for a tea tasting at the Goodricke's (see note 2) Darjeeling outpost, which is just a small tea vending area as their big scary HQ is in Calcutta.

We sampled their Margaret's Hope 2nd flush, their Castleton muscatel and their Castleton China special and their Thurbo FF and their Badamton Autumnal. We did a little test to see how good our tasting was getting. I failed where as Sam and Pat nailed it. All were delish.

Went to natter with some tea brokers at the bazaar (lower darjeeling) about BIZNISS. Lots of bull-excrement to wade through (literal and metaphorical). Wow, they could talk. But got somewhere in the end, and obtained some great samploids.

Night was bloody nice, as we were joined by the deeeeelightful Germans from Makaibari and 2 uber nice Americans we met at dinner. Merriment was had. 2 beers were enough to get us tiddled, so we sauntered home past a great variety of dogs.

Until next time....

Note 1. Fluffy vests.

First witnessed on previous India voyage. Would love to have some photographic evidence, but alas, there is none. Basically, a sleeveless garment, which is usually fluorescent coloured, and very fluffy, like an unsheared sheep. The young, hip lads wear them. Usually paired with flared jeans adorned with every possible mod imaginable (extra pockets, sewn on badges, complex embroidery, rivets, dangly bits etc etc). Boy does it look groovy.

Note 2. Goodrickes Group.

Own many many tea plantations. The largest producers/distributors of Darjeeling tea. Many of the high profile tea estates are owned by Goodrickes. Yes they are.

Day 10

2010-10-24T08:23:00.017+01:00

With the help of our friendly neighbourhood cockerel, we woke early. From the balcony bit of our digs, the cliff side was also waking. Buddhist prayer bells, twittering birds, the flip flop of passing flip-flops as determined men with baskets three times their size containing foliage climbed the steep road, gentle chattering between neighbours, the endless one armed sweeping, a little 5ish year old nepalese boy clumsily found his way to the little shack shop to buy cigarettes for his dad, received a note in change, rolled it up as he walked, paused, looked around to see if anyone was watching then pretended to smoke it, men wearing fantastic vests and towels around their waists sat on their doorsteps with their morning chai, another small nepalese kid confidently came and talked to us-

Us - Hello
Him - Hello
Us - What is your name?
Him - Fine thankyou
Us - Oh, how are you?
Him - Fine thankyou
Us - How old are you?
Him - Fine thankyou. Ok, good bye.

and off he skiddadled.

Through all of this delightful morning-ness, every now and again, from a source unknown, there would be the sound of a cheap toy playing 'We wish you a merry christmas'.

We had the morning in the factory, processing the first flush teas. With the help of the fetching hygiene hats.

Withering had been done the night before. Again, in long trays that blow hot/cold air through the leaves to reduce moisture content so the leaves don't turn to slush when rolled.

So the withered leaves are then thrown into the rolling machines, for around half an hour. This bruises them, which in turn begins oxidation and develops the flavour.

There is a man at Makaibari. This man is essential for Makaibari brew makering. Using only the acute power of his unassuming nose, he knows exactly when the tea has peaked in flavour. To correctly estimate the time to stop oxidation, most mortals rely on science...

...but not this man.

Irreplaceable and mysterious.

He is known simply as 'THE BLOODHOUND'.

A formidable man.

In usual black tea processing, the leaves are then moved to fermentation trays, to allow further oxidation to take place. Darjeeling first flush teas, however, despite being classed as black, are actually more oolong by definition. Semi fermented.

The tea is moved to fermentation trays, but only for sorting and transportation.

Here we are getting knots out of the rolled leaves....

And here we are earning our keep...

Straight into the dryers, and out the other end as the finished article.

These dried tea leaves, the Makaibari Organic First Flush, make an incredible brew. Brew it gently, in not quite boiling water, for a couple of minutes, and you will be rewarded with a light, refreshing, flowery, uplifting concoction that will forever be your yardstick first flush tea.

We finished the tea day with a walk out to the plantation to say hello to the pickers. We just caught the end of their shift, and got some photos. They were very friendly again, just like at Behora.

After the walk back up the hill, we sweatily went to the offices to organise our tea purchases. That done, we gave our thankyou gift to Mr Banerjee and headed to get our bags. One last meal with our lovely Kurseong family, Photos and good byes.

Took a taxi to Kurseong train station, to catch the famous toy train to Darjeeling.

There are 2 journey options when getting the toy train. You can take it from Siligiri, where we got the shared jeep 2 days previously. Or you can get it from Kurseong, when you are already half way up the mountainside. To get to Darjeeling from Siligiri takes about 12-14 hours. From Kurseong it takes a mere 3. And the scenery only gets truly wonderful after Kurseong. So, my advice is don't do the full whack. You may regret it. Plus it only uses a steam locomotive from Kurseong. A bloody beautiful train it is too. One of my favourite things to do in the world. It costs a whopping 10 rupees each to get to Darjo. That's 12 pence to us Sterling users. And they give you lovely stamped chunky cardboard tickets, like the olden days.

Unfortunately the younger of us had successfully contracted a little bug that was playing havoc with his digestive system. And a VERY SLOW train is not the best place to have such a problem. There was a look of intense concentration on his fizog for most of the journey, which was a shame as he was putting all of his energy into self control and had little left to enjoy the experience. There are numerous stops heading up the mountain. Chai stops, water refill stops, broken train stops, passenger stops and some inexplicable stops (none of which have toilet facilities, i hasten to add). So you can get off, have a wander. Pat even purchased a nice pair of velcro shoes on one of the stops. One stop, the daughter of the momo/chai stand came and sat down, and had a cute factor of 93.

Some over affectionate lads squeeeeezed into the seats next to us, and we had our knees squeezed and our egos inflated as they insisted repeatedly that they 'really, really liked us'. It got awkward, after a while.

The sun was setting as we approached darjeeling. The train whistled past the waving snotty kids and nonchalant shop keepers, whilst jubilance set in on my part to be back in Darjeeling. Even with the sooty nose hairs.

Getting off the train and walking through the steamy, sooty chaos in the misty twilight of Darjeeling, then clambering steeply upwards, past the very british looking post office, past the numerous candlelit warm clothing vendors, past the Big Bazaar, we made our way to Hotel Prestige. A favourite of mine, run by the most lovely family, that guarantees a good level of hygiene for a very respectable price.
The leccy was off in Darjo, so we were guided to our room by a candle, and had 2 candles in the room. We lay in the flickering semi darkness playing 'I went to the stupid things americans say shop' (…and bought some aluminum some basil some cilantro and a douchebag) until we felt hungry enough to venture outside to feast on Tibetan fare. We were joined for this atmospheric candlelit meal by 2 lovely people from Finland and America.
Momos and thukpas consumed, we headed to Joey's. A little slice of english pubbery in India. It was closed. So we went to bed. With our ridiculously thick duvets. And mountainy fatigue.

Day 9 in Darjo

2010-10-03T18:23:00.001+01:00

Brief Summary.

Day 1 To London then to Muscat. Natural History Museum. Plane. Shiny Floors.
Day 2 Muscat to Mumbai. Mumbai Madness. Heat. Smell.
Day 3 Mumbai. As above.
Day 4 Mumbai to Guwahati to Kaziranga. Silly plane journey. Silly bus journey. Abandoned. Sleepy outside.
Day 5 Kaziranga. Bliss. Relax.
Day 6 Kaziranga to Behora. Rhino-sauri.
Day 7 Behora Tea Estate. Tea.
Day 8 Behora to Kurseong. Travel travel travel, new tea estate, evening gathering, bed.
Day 9...

Bloody cockerel.

Ear plugs were necessary. Sam appeared to find the OmanAir complementary sleeping mask necessary also. Each to their own.

Breakfast, 9 am, Aloo Paratha and eggs.

-view to the makaibari brew HQ, from our sleep place-

A tea tasting was organised the previous night. All the guests that had been at the social gathering were to meet at 10am at the tasting room.

This, of course, meant 11am.

Fantastic it was too. Mr Banerjee is a true entertainer. He appears to relish in the theatrical, and consequently captivates people and enthrals his audience, and will not lose their attention until he is done.

Even an interrupting senior will be politely put in his place if he dares distract the Master from his calculated ramblings. You would have trouble to find a more passionate ambassador for quality and ethicality in tea production. He did, in a matter of minutes, what we have been struggling to do for months and months. That is convert people who have never experienced real, beautiful, pure, unadulterated tea into avid conciencious orthodox tea drinkers and appreciators. Because at first, what you drink at Makaibari will be like nothing else you have previously whetted your whistle with. It will be subtle, and you will need guidance and assistance. But, like the first time you discover you can do 3D magic eyes-

-the moment that you discover that what you are drinking is incredibly delicious feels tremendously triumphant, liberating, and like you have been initiated into the elite.

Through the course of a tea tasting session with Mr Banerjee, you are taken on a journey with your fellow tasters. Which begins as spring allows the Camelia Sinensis bushes to start sprouting, which in turn allows the production of the precious 1st Flush teas to commence. Through to the 2nd flush Summer teas, including the mysterious muscatel, which wouldn't be if it weren't for green fly excrement. And finally to the easily overlooked Autumnals. With numerous 'Exoticas' in-between all this flushing. Including the most expensive tea in the world. The Silver Tips Imperial. An exquisite white tea.

The workers enjoy having Mr Banerjee as their manager. They have the upmost respect for him, and hold him in high regard. This comes from his apparent work ethic. The most encouraging methods for any boss is for them to practise what they preach, get their hands dirty, and to lead by example. Mr Banerjee does just that, and more. He knows his product. He has the final say in quality. He can identify which specific area of his estate the tea has come from, a skill that nobody can turn their nose up at. He is positive, seeing hugely detrimental changes in weather patterns as a challenge, not a catastrophe. The new tea season he hits with a hopeful and passionate frame of mind, not one of fear and foreboding. All this, combined with intelligence, affability, charisma and charm creates a hugely influential character. A whirlwind of a man.

This was my second tasting session with Mr Banerjee, my first time being a solo event. And i left the tasting room with the same feeling on both occasions. That of pure excitement.
Excitement for the whole Makaibari enterprise.
Excitement for the future of Quilliam Brothers.
Excitement that comes with the confidence from knowing that your product is a fantastic one, and you are able to bring it to many people.
Excitement that comes from working with such passionate people as Mr Banerjee.
And just excitement from being in the Darjeelingy area again, and seeing what was a dream becoming reality.

We declined an invitation to a farewell picnic for a lady who'd been working there on projects for a month or so, as we had an invitation to hang out at the factory that afternoon. Well, maybe not hang out. As it's hard for we brits to pull off hanging out. We rarely hang out like you from the West do. At the mall. Or at Dairy Queen. Or at my place, watch some movies, get some pizza. We loiter. Awkwardly.
'Hey guys! Wanna go loiter awkwardly at the mall? Get some frozen joghurt?'

So, we did go and loiter at the factory, after lunch and snoozes. No FroYo to speak of though.

They were producing their Bai Mu Dan white tea that afternoon. White tea's are not oxidised. Oxidisation in the leaf creates caffeine, and destroys the antioxidants. The highest caffeine content, and lowest antioxidant content belong to the more oxidised teas. Black teas, then green teas. Oxidisation only starts when the leaf is bruised. The catalyst that usually causes the oxidation process to begin, what bruises the leaves, is the rolling. It bashes and squashes the leaves. And the 30ish minutes that the leaves spend in the rolling machine are enough for it to no longer be a white tea. So white tea cant be mechanically rolled.

I interrupt this tea wittering for an important news flash...

So, the production of Makaibari's Bai Mu Dan takes the freshly picked leaves (a high percentage of them being two leaves and a bud), chuff them on the floor over night to wither slightly and throw them straight through the dryer. As there is no need to mechanically wither or roll. What you are left with is a completely intact tea crisp, or chip if you are from across the pond. It tastes delish straight out of the dryer into the mouth, crunch, and even more delish in a cup with not quite boiling water and 2 minutes of your time, slurp.

We had a insightful and enjoyable afternoon in the factory, being looked after by simply lovely people. Fascinating factoids and tricks of the trade learnt.

Arrangements made for first flush tea processing the following morning.

Food. Read. Decline offer of food. Poker. Food. Tea. Tranquility. Food. Sleep.

Wideo, Wideo, Wideo

2010-09-24T12:11:00.003+01:00

Hello Chaps!

News just in -

We have been tasting our potential christmas teas, as documented by Sammy Quizzle on the FaceBook. One of them was tasted in Budapest about 5 years ago, and we were bewitched from the moment the festive fluid touched our eager lips. We have spent our lives travelling the depth and breadth of our planet in search of this delicious concoction ever since. And finally, when all hope had left us, we happened across it. (Maybe, just maybe, we went in and asked the tea house in question where they got it from).

It will be available on our website come November. Along with 6 other wonderful christmas teas, and about 5 other new ones, that are not festive. Also we have been getting there with the gift packs. Also, November is the ETA of them. Woop de Woop.

The Tea House is once more getting somewhere. We are currently looking at the property of our dreams, and are pushing as hard as poss to get it. There is hope. But we are not getting ahead of ourselves. Please collectively cross your fingers that the gods of Bureaucracy and other such things will be looking down upon us.

Until then, here's some stupidity -

Bisous

DAY 8! AND RUBBER STAMP!

2010-09-09T16:38:00.013+01:00

We interrupt our zealous attempt at making peking duck to bring you this shocking announcement....

WE BOUGHT A CUSTOM RUBBER STAMP. Yes we did. If anybody wants anything stamped with the QB logo (bit of paper, cardboard box, forehead, nipples) you know where to come.

Whilst we're here, here's some more happenings from bloody months ago...

Day 8 Cont...

So, 5 am. We arrived at Guwahati Train Station, and said our goodbyes and shukriyahs to our trusty, windy (as in gusty, not there are a lot of bends) driver. It was ridiculously busy, as usual.

In the station i knobbed off to find a phone (PCO/STD/ISD???) to call our tout. Apparently he wasn't going to be livid at the fact that it was 5 am. He answered 2nd time round, and we had a natter. He lived about 30 metres from the station, so promised he would be 5 minutes and would meet us in the foyer. 30-odd minutes later he greeted us, smiley-ey. And we completed the transaction, with a fair meaty tip included. At this point we had 10 mins til the train departerated, so we found our newly acquired seats and off we trot.

Further note on the Indian Railway System.

We were on a Rajdhani Express. There are numerous Rajdhani Expresses. Doing major routes. For example, Delhi Mumbai. They are the most luxurious of the trains, and the lowest class available is 3AC. You get food, blankets and good service. All trains in India have a wicked name. Like the Darjeeling Mail, or Kanchenjunga Express.

In the first hour, we were given chai to keep us occupied til breakfast came. Which was a strange fried vegetarian object. With Toast. Chai. And apple juice.

The scenery was fantastic, paddy fields, with workers doing paddy field activities, cattle with egrets on their backs, palms, a multitude of river crossings and of course tea plantations.

We then got into our bunks, sam on top, me middle, pat bottom, and nodded off. Kind of. There was a man that kept burping. Which certainly got annoying after a few times. I was using Terry Pratchett Audio Books as a sleep inducer, so my dreams were slightly Disk World infused. It was cold. My lord, they definitely were using the AC. We all woke up wrapped in our jumpers and jackets and blankets, and laughed at each other. This, in an outside temperature of 40+ degrees celsius. Silly.

And we arrived, 3 in the afternoon. Hastily we jumped into a jeep that would jet us up the mountains to Kurseong, the location of our next tea plantation. Shared jeep is the preferred transportation of the masses in the West Bengal Hills. A 3 hour ride up the hills would cost you 90 rupees, or 1 pound 30 pence a seat, and you are rammed 4 to a row, in 3 rows. So 12 people per jeep. Not including the people who sit on the roof or cling on to the back. It's a windy road (as in there are lots of bends, not gusty), so the squished rows of people kind of helps keep your side to side movement to a minimum. There is ALWAYS a person throwing up in these jeeps. Always. After about 15 or more of these jeep rides, i still have not been in a vomit free one. There's a chai stop half way up, to allow for engines to cool, and to allow drivers to wipe off aforementioned stomach contents from body work.

Sam created this wonderful representation of the logo in some melty tar with a stick.

We arrived in Kurseong. Ravenous and slightly stressed. We had just received news of our now Late Grandfather becoming late. So, upset, behind schedule and exhausted we attempted to book tickets to the Isle of Man to attend the ceremony, which was to happen the day after we were to arrive back in the UK. This process was so very, very frustrating. For numerous reasons. I also nipped off to try and find a telephone to attempt to call the next tea estate to say we were running late, as the previous couple of days the phone had not been working. No joy, as the phones had been cut off in the whole town. L:fljskdnjkasdansdv.

Here's a little bit of music that was playing next to us, which helped relax us all.

After, we decided to splurge on a taxi to the tea estate (usually a lovely 45 minutes walk). Arrive we did.

The tea estate on which we would be staying is called 'Makaibari'. It is an organic plantation. Makers of some of the finest teas in the world. Run by the eccentric Rajah Banerjee, who has an overwhelming presence and never fails in making you feel 8 years old. Both in maturity and intelligence. We very much like him. This was the second time meeting him, and we were getting mentally prepared for the onslaught of information that would no doubt be referred back to during the duration of our stay. Like a test to see if you had been listening. What's more, i was bloody nervous as none of our calls had worked and it was sort of like turning up uninvited, even though this date had been set in previous correspondence.
The gate guard shouted to the assistant, who walked us to the estate offices, and told us to wait outside of Mr Banerjees room. There we stood, in silence with our silly back packs on after a good chunk of sweaty journeying - feeling like 3 vagrant wanderers who just decided it would be sweet to pop in to see one of the most influential people in India. Ho hum.

So, into the office we were led, engulfed in that particular variety of silence that seems to only exist during moments of extreme awkwardness. Tum te tum. But, we were warmly received, though slightly scolded for failing to call. Straight in to deep philosophical convo, which was a little hard on our destroyed minds. He has an inspiring mix of spirituality and down to earth-ness. We were then introduced to the lovely Nayan, whos family we would be staying with. And off we trot to our homestay. 3 in a big bed. Lots of food. They sure didn't hold back on the hospitality. The mum was wonderful, as was the brother. Thankyou so much Nayan and family.

Walking to the homestay...

That evening there was to be a gathering up at the managers bungalow. We had heard rumours of other foreigners being around, and as we dodged the barking dogs at the front door, we were enthusiastically introduced to 7ish lovely germans and a couple of brits who were there on projects (which i will go into more detail about later). Craic was lovely (apart from when the spotlight was turned onto us), and the mean G & T's lubricated the proceedings well. Picture the scene if you will. A circle of around 18 peoples, ensconced on a variety of wonderful and mismatched seating, purposely split into little convo groups of 3 or 4, surrounded by nik-naks and whotnots that had been collected since the estate began some 150 years ago (stuffed tigers, aged portraits, over polished trinkets etc etc), whilst Van Morrison successfully generated the easy going ambience required for drinkies and nibbles. It was lovely, civilised and everybody was JOLLY NICE. We got tiddled on 2 G & T's (Mr Banerjee, your drink making skills will go down in history), and as the gathering came to a conclusion, we merrily wandered in the dark back to our big bed. Much to our surprise, we had a massive meal of fried beef and rice waiting for us. Which we consumed, happily. Our surrogate mum was worried that we hadn't eaten properly before we left, so stayed up waiting for us to return. Again, JOLLY NICE.

And off to sleep we nodded. Happily unaware of the evil cockerel lurking just outside our window...

Apologies for the quality of photos in this installment, we were obviously going through a bad stage.

Survey Please!

2010-08-07T18:54:00.007+01:00

Hello everybody.

Here is our poorly put together survey we would love you all to do.

http://bitURL.net/ad5c

It's about tea, and other such things.

Whoever completes it the fastest will receive a real treat! -
Mick Hucknall, doing the shake n vac.

Half of Day 8. Thorough.

2010-08-04T12:45:00.017+01:00

Day 8

Our original plan for getting from Behora to Siliguri, the town at the base of the West Bengal Hills on the way to Darjo, was to get the 13 hour over night Rajdhani Express Train from Mariani Junction, a mere 10 km from the tea estate. On day one we went train ticket buying, and were informed that there was no way we would be able to get tickets for the journey from Mariani Junction to Siliguri, as you generally need to book months in advance. Now, here is a perfect place to slot some thoughts on the Indian Railway System.

Ok. Here is what we understand. A high percentage of the following information is probably inaccurate.

First of all, there are 8 classes. 1AC, 2AC, 3AC, First Class, Executive Chair, AC Chair, Sleeper, and finally 2nd class. AC stands for Air Conditioned, but it actually means more than that. It's a sign of quality and luxury, throughout India. Not all classes are available on all trains. For example, if the train goes over night there wont be a chair option. Sleeper class is the way most of the population travels long distance, thus making it the most insightful and fun. Windows are open, you can hang out of the doors whilst in motion, chai sellers and nibbley sellers are allowed on, it's noisy, often stinking hot, dirty, but bloody marvellous.

The coaches also have a habit of being infested with cockroaches and/or rodents (with rodents being preferable in my book, as they are, at least, cute), though we encountered none this trip. Sleeper tickets are ridiculously cheap by western standards (e.g 24hr train ride, travelling somewhere around 1400 km would cost around 6 pounds), and you sit 3 in a row on cushioned blue plasticy benches, that later get converted into your 3 bunk beds, by the well engineered, simple method of hinges and hooks. No food is included in the price, but you are always around food for sale on platforms or from official/unofficial sellery guys, and from the wonderfully generous and friendly co-passengers that you inevitably create a rapport with that often feed you whether you like it or not.

There is a real sense of being in touch with the landscape you travel through when travelling sleeper class. Because the wind rushes in your face, because you can jump off the train if it pauses in the middle of nowhere for 10 minutes, because you can smell the delights/horrors of what's around you, because you can stick your full body out of the train and feel the power of the locomotive as it whistles close by gawking youths, sincere looking adults, and wavey children, because the noise is in your ears, always. It's exhilarating. And like nothing you can experience in western europe train travel anymore, where you are disconnected as much as possible from everything. We enter our little silent travel pods, spend a while texting, eat our pre-bought packaged sterile chicken salad sandwich and our chocolate treat that we've been aching to open since the journey began, listen to our solid state illegally acquired pop music, play a mobile phone game or two, even do internetty things on our portable computer lapmachines, possibly exchange small talk with neighbours, maybe occasionally glance out of the window, read the paper, do a puzzle, nip to the loo (though not whilst at a station!), until we alight at our destination. Slightly better at freecell, and up to date with correspondence, but none the wiser on the little, important things that make the world interesting, eclectic, fascinating and generally brilliant. Trains are wonderful. Indian trains are wonderful-er. Ok, you might occasionally witness bathrooms with shit everywhere, a young girl vomming out of the window with gusto, men hocking up enthusiastically and phlegming on the floor, chai sellers alerting potential customers at an unreasonable 5 am with not entirely necessary ear splitting yells, cockroaches on your face in the dead of night, and other frustrations, but my god, it's great to have the CHOICE to travel in the slightly sterile AC classes or the living, breathing Sleeper Class. (the pomposity of personifying a train class. Apologies.) As opposed to only the sterile option in England.

Preaching travellers are seldom not annoying. Not only because what is being said is usually exaggerated or warped in some way or another, but because it is nearly always being said from an unrealistic perspective. Travellers by their very definition are travelling, which basically means they are on holiday, albeit a more 'hardcore' holiday, not living in the country of visitation. Things always have to be better or worse on holiday, just so when you return you can have an opinion and sound worldly. And just like a hoildayer can't wait to show photos and complain about the lack of chips, a certain kind of traveller cant wait to preach. So please, this is not a - 'you simply must experience train travel in india, it's an unforgettable kasldjnfkjsdf et la de da', this is a - 'it's nice to feel in charge of the choices you make and not have everything decided for you, nice to feel in touch with a small part of the world, nice to not have to rely on a mobile communication device for sensory stimulation, nice to experience different things'. That went on a bit longer than expected.

The ticketing of train travel. This is the most flummoxing aspect of the trainal system. So, different authorities receive a quota of tickets to sell. Some for online selling, some for selling at particular stations but not at other stations, some for tourist information shops, some for travel agencies, there's a tourist quota, an emergency quota, a reserve quota and heaps of other quotas(?).

Right. How do you get your hands on them? Well. We still don't fully know. BUT, generally what has worked in the past is we go to the chaotic reservation area in a large city station (usually separate from the station itself) and fill in a form after trying to locate said form for a good chunk of time.

The form asks for the train name and train number (which you can only find out after queueing for a good chunk of time), which station you will be getting on/off, date of travel, class of travel in order of preference, name, sex, date of birth of each passenger, whether you are a doctor, whether you want to be entitled to a free upgrade (?), address and phone in uk, address and phone in india (?) and finally signature, and date of signature. Then you queue for a good chunk of time, all the while battling for your position in the queue, and give in form. They then tell you one of a number of things:-

-'ok, that'll be xxx rupees' (ideal situation, but unfortunately quite rare)
-'there are no tickets in that class, i can give you another class' (expensive, but still a good comment to get)
-'there are no tickets, but i can give you a one on the waiting list' (there are always cancellations, so you get given a WL number, and find out if you've been successful on the day. Usually under 100 is a good position to be in. You could also in this case ask for a tadkal (emergency) ticket, which costs slightly more. Some trains dont have a tadkal quota though, and others sell out easily)
-'Full' (followed by shrug).
-'you have to pay for the whole journey if you want a ticket' (for example, if a popular train starts at point a and travels to point c, and you want to travel from point b to point c, you would have to pay from a to c, because that is how the quota is given to them)
-'go to counter number 94' (which could mean anything. Occasionally this has been wonderfully helpful, occasionally counter 94 doesn't exist)
-'Haha' (usually followed by something like 'you need to book 3 months in advance for this train')

Some mega-stations have a tourist counter, which is just froody. It lubricates the complex mission hugely, but still occasionally leads to a no ticket situation, especially if heading off the beaten path.

One time we three were in Putrid Patna, and i shall indulge the ticket situation to you when we get there in a week. It was interesting, and we concluded that if you just HAPPEN to meet the right person, then it's possible to get any train ticket, even one that 'you need to book 3 months in advance'.

Also, on the subject of quota distribution, it is apparently used as a subtle method of weakening a population that appears to be revolting in some way or another. For example, where we are heading now there is the Gorkha movement, trying to create a separate state 'Gorkhaland'. So the government gives them a very small quota on the major trains leaving the area, meaning the population constantly feels repressed, trapped and helpless. Clever.

This is all very complicated. Just when i think it cant get more complicated, it does. But, it works, for better or for worse. 21 million seats a day around the country successfully distributed.

The reason for getting so deep into this isssss that although there were absolutely no tickets for the first leg to Guwahati, the helpful man we met in Kohora knew a man who knew someone who could get us 3 tickets on the second leg. So alls we needed to do was get to Guwahati. Now, the last night bus gets in too late to catch a 6 am train, and the bus before the night buses gets in at 1am. So we said 'Fuck It' over a decision making chai meeting and decided to get a car to Guwahati. The price difference was minimal, and it meant we could leave late in the evening, have more time at Behora, and arrive with enough time to meet our ticket tout. Also it meant we could avoid another bumpy bumpy bus ride.

So we did that.

After watching an intense cricket game, which was a huge community event. The usual serenity of cricket was disturbed by the ever so distracting generator BRRMMMMMM.

We stopped a few times for night time chai, whilst the driver had a nap.

Not going to lie, he might've had a tendency to break wind during sleep. Entering the car after the breaks was not pleasant. Sam created a catchy little tune, the only lyrics being 'This car smells of fart'.

Indeed.

One of the chai breaks we witnessed a very drunk 13ish year old play the fool once too often and piss off a strange older man. Who threw a big jug of water in a fit of rage (not sure if it was jocular rage or not) in the drunk kids general direction. It missed him, and hit another guy. It was entertaining.

We also stopped for a theatrical performance of a Hanuman Fable. Hanuman is the Hindu warrior monkey god. And there was a play on. At 00.30. For children. Not sure what the craic was with the time of showing. Surely a matinee would've been more suitable. But there you go. There we ran into a reporter for the Assam Spectator or something newspapery sounding. We did an interview before our driver suddenly decided it was time to go. So maybe we are in a newspaper article somewhere in Assam. That was a surreal stop.

Bloody hell, it's only 5am in this tale of Day 8. Perhaps a break is in order. Yes. Signing off.

Quilliam Bruvaz

Website officially official

2010-08-02T00:16:00.010+01:00

Today was lovely. So many nice people everywhere. Molto Thankyou Evereebodee.

Mega Cake Selection:

Ma's Fruit cake
Chocolate Brownies
Weener's Rocky Road
Tina's Heinous Chocolate Cake
Courgette Cake (Zucchini to all you funny speakers)
Chocolate Cookies
Sharon's Banana Cake
Bev's Mega Scones
Lemon Tart
Apricot Cake

Rocky Road won the 'most ridiculous cake' award, with it's fantastic combination of mars bars, maltesers, marshmallows and apricots. So well done there. And as ever, Sharon's Banana Cake delivered the goods. Thanks so much everyone who baked.

And that was all washed down with litres and litres of Brew. Pats lemon and ginger iced tea was on offer, as was a big vat of chai.

We broadcasted every minute of the NoN sToP action via LIVE VIDOCULAR STREAMS (not the wet kind) so thanks for watching, those who did. At one point we had a massive 6 (yes, 6!) viewers.

So, indeed, whoop dee doo, the website is running.

www.quilliambrothers.com is now open for trade, and those UK-ers amongst can purchase to your hearts content. You foreigners will be able to purchase in the future. So stay tuned. Or, nip to another channel for a bit, but set a reminder to come back a bit later on. But please don't get engrossed in another, better programme/show and forget about us.

Thankyou for your kind words, thankyou for your wonderful cards, thankyou for your support, and thankyou Miss S H for the bubbly.

Spread the word, please.

The furry mouthed, sugar high-ed, savoury craving, Quilliam Siblings.

P.S Click here for wonderful-ness

Day 7 in the never ending story, of us doing tea things.

2010-07-25T16:22:00.015+01:00

Day 7

At 7 am, the work siren sounds at Behora signalling the beginning of the working day. Pickers gather to receive their instructions from their Squadron Leaders. Throughout the day these sirens wail for meal times and breaks etc, as most of the workers are not entirely sure what a watch is or does. The noise very much resembles what i have been led to believe is an air raid siren. Most disconcerting. I woke, at 7, to this siren, and after drowsy frowsty confusion had dispersed, and i had had my morning wee, i left my quarters. Into the reception room. The big one, with the mozzie nets and open space, remember? One of the highlights of the trip. The scene -

Air that was hot, with a breeze that cooled it perfectly, flirty tree-pies frolicked in a nearby tree with their surprisingly bright orange plumage, i sat and was silently approached by the kind servant. I said yes to the generous offer of chai. And sat in the obscene tranquility with my little note book - the one i am now reading from in an effort to recall events. Somewhat of a journal, though it isn't at all.

About 20 minutes of this heavenly lull in life, Laura the wife of the Tea Estate Manager came, and we chatted for nearly an hour. This was a lovely little bonding session, and the feeling of being strangers completely left. I felt very comfortable in her presence from then on. Pat and Sam came through after the chai man had decided it was time for them to get up and made a delivery. Sam was mega lethargic, and stayed that way for most of the day. One of those times where you just cannot wake up, no matter how much you want to.

Breakfast included hilariously dry toast, that we nibbled on self consciously....

...crunch.....

......crunch....

....Papaya, Sausages, Baked Beans and bizarre chicken sausage things. All of which tasted almost, but not quite, entirely unlike the real thing. Apart from the Papaya. That tasted like papaya. Which we dont love. It's ok. I mean, we'll eat it, but we won't go out of our way to eat it.

We were leaving in the evening, so a tour of the general area was on the cards. Picked up at 10.30 by the lovely chap who ferried us yesterday, and went for a cruise. Drove through villages (willages), past the oil refinery that they are very proud of, and passed LOTS OF TEA, and visited a 10th century Hindu temple that was in the middle of restoration. It was VERY HOT, and the workers had just felled a muckle tree. They were sitting on/around it like kittens do whenever you bring a large foreign object into the room. I'd feel bloody proud, having nearly passed out digging up a small plum tree recently. The site was littered with beautifully carved stones, which they seemed to be slowly putting together like a HUMONGOUS 3D jigsaw puzzle to form the old Temple. It was wonderful.

We stopped for chai and milk sweets on the way back to the estate. Milk sweets are a big deal all over india. Made with a base mix of sugar, milk and a ground nut of sorts. My mind is not made up over them. They are delicious. Then you take another bite, and want to throw up, then you take another bite, then they are delicious again, ad infin. So every time we finished one kind of these funny things, they bought us another one, each time served on a pointless plastic plate. Very wasteful. Bloody nice people there though, and another simply lovely point in time that, whilst sitting in this horrible weatherspoons (with great cheap dirty fry-ups and free internet. Ok, i love you really), is hard to believe happened, that it still exists, and people are there. Right now. Eating milk sweets. Drinking chai. Throwing away their pointless plastic plates. Hmmm, we miss you, Assam.

We got to the estate and asked for a bit of a photo sesh. The pickers were delightful, and enjoyed posing. They showed us exactly how to work a sector so that it can be efficiently plucked, and enlightened us with all the tips (that is officially a tea pun) of the plucking trade. I love Assamese plantations. You can just walk and walk through the gently rolling hills, and never ever get bored of the repetitive scenery. It's gorgeous.

To end our excursion, we visited the estate hospital, and saw a few projects that WM was running to help the workers' community and their Rainforest Alliance certification.

We also saw a lizard with a red head.

And another wonderful Kingfisher.

And tables made of dead tea bushes. Sam got delirious with joy over the tables, and made all sorts of plans to import them.

(the table is kind of showing to the left there)

Back to the Bungalow. Sit, read in garden. Mozzied. Eat delish Indian food with a slightly censored spice level. Snooze. Wake. Samosas. Pack. Goodbyes, and Thankyous.

Conclusion.

During our short time at Behora we were treated like kings. I cannot express our gratitude enough towards the Williamson Magor Group, and more specifically Mr and Mrs Rajkhowa. Our time on Behora was insightful, delightful and showed generosity at its purist. And to be gifted a big chunk of tea just before we left, was the icing on the ridiculously kind cake. Assam is a fantastic area of India. And, for the most part, it is without the hordes of foreign visitors that make India less Indian. So it was with a great fondness for the area that we left, on our way to our next destination. Darjeeling.....

Celebrate good tea-imes, c'mon.

2010-07-25T14:30:00.004+01:00

Hello Ya'll.

Well, the day has finally come.

The WEBSITE/WEBSHOP OPENING PARTY WILL BE A WEEK TODAY! Can you believe it? I can't.

We are having a wee celebration to kick it all off, at our rents house, in the lovely semi-countryside.

There will be beaucoup de cake and beaucoup de tea (of course).

You are all welcome to come, but please send us an email to enquiries@quilliambrothers.com just so we know who's a comin'.

There will be a live video broadcasting of the event, and a couple other technological wizardries. But more on that in the soony future.

It's a struggle to refrain from weeing ourselves with excitement.

Hurray for brew and the internet!

Quizzle Brizzles. xxx

BREAKING WEBSITE WOTSITS

2010-07-13T15:31:00.004+01:00

Hello Peoples.

Just to let you know we are finishing off the website!

Woooo.

It'll be live within a fortnight. And this time no over zealousness with the announcement. Promise.

You will be able to purchase to your hearts content, or just have fun clicking on things.

SCREENSHOTS RAAAA!

We are now united after a few months apart, and things are going to PROCEED with HASTE.

Tea is being consumed as we work. An Oolong for me, a Quilliam Brothers Breakfast Blend for Pat, A Yorkshire Gold for Sam.

Yip yip.

Day 5 cont.

2010-06-15T10:19:00.020+01:00

First things first. Whilst walking in a torrential downpour through the amazingly picturesque town of Cesky Krumlov today, my Taksun Illuminator illuminated for the last time due to the large amounts of water in it. I would have a two minute silence, but i don't know how long to be silent for.

Now for some good stuff. Not more laboriously detailed wittering about a bus being late.

So, we tittered around the Kaziranga Complex for the day. Snoozing, Showering. Eating. Organising transport through the most helpful person in the world. India is full of these gems. Fantastically generous, lovely people who know someone in every field of work. Also organised our Rhino Experience for the following day (much delight was taken due to the fact that the Rhino Man pronounced it 'rhino-saurus'. I think this will stick in our vocab for the foreseeable future) Saw our first real life tea. A touch disappointing. But it wasn't officially the season, and there was a drought of sorts. And the bushes had just been pruned.

But, Exciting Nonetheless.

Went to bed early, ready for our 5 am pick up.

Day 6.

Woke up at 3. Annoyingly. Chai delivery at 4. Nothing like a nice sugar hit of a morning. Then made our way to the gates to await the pick up. Sleepy monkeys joined us. My lord they are entertaining. Nonchalant bonky bonky was the order of the day. Along with enthusiastic branch shaking, so twigs would fall on our heads. Driven to the Elephant Mounting Station, where we mounted elephants.

And off we silently plodded into the thick grasses as the sun rose and the mist cleared. We saw some swamp deer (the rarest deer in the world, oh yes. The rhinos steal all of their thunder though. Poor chaps. Just because they dont weigh 2 tons, have a horn and armour, and look WIKID), wild boar, a roasted turtle, and of course the much talked about rhinos. It takes about half an hour of appreciating the serenity atop your Trunked Beast before you hit Rhino Zone. And then suddenly there it is. About 2 metres away. Staring at you. Probably thinking-
'hmmm, what on earth is that? It kind of looks like an elephant. But there are funny things on its back. Maybe he's deformed. Yes, bizarre warty growth things. Poor chap. I shan't bring it up.'

They are incredible animals. Such power. 2-3 tons of muscular nails-ness, that can run nearly 50 km/h apparently. Though i don't quite believe it. And so gentle, docile and friendly looking (presumably when sex/baby protecting isn't involved).

We saw oodles more of those horny mammals in the apres-breakfast jeep safari. Probably our tally was at 30-40 by the end of the day, and you get to the point where your thought process goes 'oo, what's that? A Buffalo? A Boar? A wild elephant? oh. it's just another rhino.' Upsetting how quickly one starts taking things for granted. There are around 3000 Asiatic one horned rhinos left in the world. And 2 thirds of them are in and around Kaziranga. This is a 'Conservation Success Story!'. As a century ago there were only 100 left in the world. The fact that only 3000 of these wonderful things exist all under the watchful eye's of the same animals that nearly completely destroyed them is a 'success story' seems to just be horribly depressing. Almost as depressing as McDonalds Kiddy Parties. Not a reason to pat ourselves on our evil, evil backs.

We also saw some kingfishers. Kingfishers are my favourite living things on the planet. Just your common kingfisher.

Give me a common kingfisher, and i'll be happy as larry. Sam and Pat are more Pied Kingfisher-ly inclined. Because of their hovering skills, and tuftiness. The kingfishers hovering skills and tuftiness. Not Pat and Sams. But we all agree in giving kudos to the Vulture, Indian Roller, Bee Eater, various birds of prey, Hoopoe, and Tree Pie, along with the other fantastic Indian birds that we witnessed.

Saw no tigers. Rats.

Or Rats. Tigers.

As soon as we returned we got picked up by the Welfare Manager from Behora Tea Estate. Finally, TEA! Took our sweet time about it, but we got there in the end. Behora is one of the most reputable Assamese tea estates. It has worked hard to get rainforest alliance certification, and it's quality is renowned worldwide. So, after a 10 minute, repetitive argument with the hotel manager over whether or not we should pay full price for our 4 hour use of the dorm, we jumped in the wheels and shot off in an easterly direction. Behora Bound.

For those interested click here for a elevated look down upon the Behora Tea Estate. You can even make out the name on the factory roof.

It was the building next to the factory that we entered first, after being welcomed by numerous armed guards. There we met the acting manager Mr Diganto Rajkhowa. He welcomed us sincerely, and we discussed tea related whotsits for a long period of time. Not going to lie, there were moments of awkwardness. He is a thoroughly nice chap. We had a cup of tea during this chat, which was sweet and milky, malty and generally very nice. After the chat we jumped in a jeep, regimentally joined by 2 more armed guards, and were whisked off to the Managers Bungalow. Armed guards were fantastically suited to their guns. Like owners that start to look like their dogs, thus-

So. Tea estates in Assam are still running pretty much as the British started them. Hierarchy plays an important roll in the smooth running of things. There is so much respect shown towards the Estate Manager, and indeed any senior member of staff. This results in a seemingly very well organised, harmonious, operation.

Production hadn't started on sight for the season, as they weren't picking enough to warrant cranking up the factory. So they sent it to their neighbouring tea estate for processing. Williamson Magor is the largest tea company in the world. They own 25 gardens in Assam and numerous others in other parts of India, Ceylon and now Africa.

Behora Tea Estate produces mainly CTC tea. CTC stands for crush, tear, curl, which refers to the action of the CTC machines. As said before, CTC tea is the kind of tea you would use in Chai makering, and it also makes up the majority of your tea bag tea. If you ever have enough curiosity to rip open a tea bag, you will see little balls of tea. That is CTC tea. The production method makes brewing quicker and cheaper, makes bagging the tea possible, and gives a deeper colour, but the flavour of the tea is sacrificed. Of course it still tasted wonderful, but nothing compared to loose leaf Orthodox tea (we will look in to Orthodox tea when we get to Darjeeling, in 2 days time)

Most tea processing begins with withering. This reduces the amount of water in the leaf, so when cut/rolled it doesnt just turn into a slushy mush, or a mushy slush. So here, they reduce the moisture content by 30ish% by blowing hot and cold air through the leaves in long trays, before a conveyor takes it to the CTC machines. After it is crushed, torn and curled, it is emptied in to the fermentation trays (misuse of the word fermentation, it is actually oxidation, but fermentation stuck), and you will witness a colour transformation from green to reddy brown. In the space of 45 minutes, there-abouts. Just as a bruised apple slowly turns brown. This is the chemical reaction of the chlorophyll breaking down and tannins being released and develops the flavour and forms the caffeine. From there the tea gets loaded into dryers which stops the oxidation and leaves you with tea. Unorganised tea. But tea. Finally it is sorted in to various grades using juddery sorting machines.

So, the managers bungalow.

We were greeted by the beautifully kept grounds of the bungalow, and all the wonderful smells and noises that are attracted by ridiculously lush gardenage.

Escorted into the building. The reception area is a roomy room that takes up the majority of the house, with mozzie netted windows, but no glass. This gives a wonderful breeze, and the feeling of being not entirely outside, not entirely in. Lovely furniture, with nik naks everywhere. It was there that we were introduced to Laura the wife. She was a sweet, chatty lady, who had grown up deep in the Eastern states. It was clear from the beginning that there was a definite role to play as a managers wife. Hosting. Tea estates are constantly having guests. From tea estates, tea companies world wide and various other tea enthusiasts. And keeping these people entertained is a full time job. She was lovely, and easy to natter with, and never stopped the flow of liquid/solid treats. Some of them great, some of them questionable. For example, little nibbley samosas - great, parsley ice tea - questionable. There were 2 servants and a child minder on all the time, and a chef when cheffy things needed to be done. Cheffy things needed to be done for our afternoon meal. Which was 'British Food', learnt after Chubs awkwardly questioned what we were eating. Awkward. Also awkward was our apparent ignorance on topics such as politics and generally anything vaguely intellectual. Pat carried the torch as much as he could. But they are SO fascinated with the government, schooling, employment opportunities, health care etc etc, that our knowledge was sapped dry pretty speedily, and we were left, spot light on, shriveled, shrugging. Oh, to then have moved on to topics that we knew a lot about. Like ermmmm, ermmmmm, ermmm, ah -commies, Mr Rubiks and poker.

After eating or British fare we jumped in the jeep once more, and drove around the tea estate. We saw the tea in various stages of maturity, which was very interesting. We saw sectors under nutrient regeneration, where they plant grasses to make the soil fertile once more. We saw irrigation in progress. We saw the nursery, where they are constantly bringing up clones of Tea Board sanctioned bushes, the air strip where tea tasters are hastily flown in, and generally had a lovely drive, getting out every now and again to inspect/discuss things like pest infested bushes and planting techniques. Tea estates are wonderfully kept, satisfying places. When there is a sector of fully flushed (dense, uniform new growth) bushes, it looks spectacular. Just wonderful. The glossy green leaves glistening in the sun appear like some fantastic blanket with the occasional shepherding shade tree poking through.
We then took a tour of the not working factory,

and had some tea tasting.

I had only previously properly tasted teas in Darjeeling, where the tea is lighter, and not mixed with milk. So tasting here was very different. You get a very, very brewed tea (6 minutes is how long they brew all teas for tasting in the official world) without milk. The astringent tannins were too much to bear, and ones lips started resembling a sphincter pretty quickly. Tasting from then on was not an option. There was no taste, only shriveled mouths. But we soldiered on, making pseudo knowledgeable comments. Learning a bit. Not much. But a bit. Tasting is an area that we really need to spend some time getting a tad better at. Separating flavours, then assessing each of those flavours. We not so good nope.

So we headed back to the luxurious bungalow, were greeted with Indian nibbles, and shown our ridiculous rooms. Massive, beautiful.

Chai. More chai. Sam and Pat in one room, Tom in the other. Had snooze. Woke up confused. Then remembered. Had a smile. Then evening meal. More Brit Classics. Conversation flowed a little easier - there were witticisms exchanged, and everything was just more relaxed. I guess that happens whenever you're getting to know people.

We retired after food. And the day ended like this:

I went into the guys' room to say good night. And in popped a kind servant, who spoke only Assamese. He said something, and grinned expectantly, wide eyed. We said every variation of pardon, what, excuse me, could you repeat yourself etc, and he just stood there for a good 6-7 minutes, still grinning expectantly, wide eyed. It got a little strange. As we were attempting to communicate, but he just wasnt comprehending that we were trying to get him to try again. It went from being funny to just plain weird. As we smiled at each other sheepishly. Eventually he gave up on whatever task he was meant to complete, and hastily retreated. Strange. We shall never know what his goal was. But i expect he was asking if we wanted a cup of tea.

Night night.

Tasty Tasty.

2010-05-25T21:18:00.005+01:00

Well hello.

A brief interruption to the especially prompt and up2d8 INDIA TRIP Blogeration.

This Sat we did a tasty sesh at Olive n Bean in Newcastle. Very pleasant it was too. Though it was very hot outside, and no one really wanted to taste tea, no matter how delicious it was. Lovely to meet those of you who swung/swinged by. Those who wish to purchase a refined selection of our many many teas can purchase away at 17/19 Clayton Street whilst sampling their super sweet treats and wonderful lunches.

We are working on a mega proposal for the building of our dreams. We won't be counting our chickens this time around though. Oh, no-sir-ee we wont!

Zero. We have Zero Chickens.

We once did though. But they ate the neighbours' vegetable seeds. That infuriated the neighbours, and they let their lividness out on our poor mum, who was never really a chicken lover to begin with, and this certainly didn't help the cause. So we had to get rid. I am not sure if we did that by method of ingestion or eviction.

The next India Update is nearly finished, if anyone gives a hoot.

Wishing you love, prosperity and lashings of comic sans.

More Trip. Slowly But Surely.

2010-05-05T21:53:00.009+01:00

Day 3

And yes, we slept. Oh boy did we sleep. Oh Blimey. Oh Riley. At first it didn't happen. It was too moist. And hot. Moist heat. Mmmmm. And i got bitten, by an animal. Itchy moist heat. But then when it did, it was a slumber and a half. Woke up some time in the 'noon, and spent the rest of the day buying beauteous watches, sandals and sunny g's whilst generally soaking up the insanity. In note form-

Vimto Spray (great btw), 'You want drugs? Hashish huh?', Government owned trees have a thick band of white/red painted on them so people don't make a fire with them - 'Government Tree, Government Tree, you can't touch me 'cos i'm a Government Tree', Ginger delish chai, Pat got some jeans, First Cow, sugar cane juice (Made on nearly every street corner. Squeezed with a touch of ginger 'n' lime. Though heard a story of a lizard that got caught with the cane during the juicing process, and killed 30+ people.), semi-unsuccessful train ticket booking in gorgeous, mental Victoria Terminus, Curry lunch (Sam had a toasty), WADA PAW (Mumbai's signature street food. Deep fried and battered thin potato slices, rammed in a bun with chilli/chutney), Chowpatty beach (filth, tacky, enjoyable), Bizarrely placed death metal gig, Cricket at the maiden (mumbai's huge grassy area), Sam threw a cricket ball and woop! the locals loved it, nearly run over numerous times, back to hotel, watch a bit of friends (you know? that show about those quirky comrades residing in NY who drinka da coffee), shit sleeps all round, killed a flea in bed (possibly the animal that was biting me).

Day 4.

Woke at 4am to get our earlyyyy flight. The hotel kindly organised an overpriced taxi driven by a complete nutter who, after driving as fast as humanly possible over bumps that made your head hit the roof, had the cheek to presume that we were tipping him, despite the fact that the ride was a rip off in the first place.
'Where's my substantial change?'
'Baksheesh, Baksheesh'
'Ermmm, no.'
'I'm a fast driver' he giggled like a twunt.
'You dont say? I think my bitten tongue, white knuckles and broken spine can confirm that. You shall receive no tip from us, mate.' Etc, etc.

Bizarre flight, Mumbai-Bangalore-Kalcutta-Guwahati, that's 3 take-offs during one flight. With each take off you got a free bottle of water, as if taking off causes thirst to spike. More gosh darn irrepressible panpipes. Oh well, the flight was cheap. Also, we were blessed with a hot stewardess, who looked like Norah Jones (TOPICAL TRIV - Wor Norah is the spawn of Ravi Shankar, the most famousist sitarist in the WORLD) Guwahati is in Assam, and isn't particularly lovely. It has some nice Ghat-age. But where doesn't in In-D-R? Usual chaotic sensory overload whilst organising/waiting for our bus to Kaziranga. Bought a kilo of the mediocre-est ctc tea for a mere 3 spond. That's the kind of tea one would use to make a chai. More on CTC tea in the not too distant future (that's right, we're gunna get educational on your ass). Also purchased some Thums-Up (sic.), india's answer to the question of 'what shall we call this bizarre mix of Coca Cola and Betel Nut?'. So we got our bus. It was to take a reasonable 5 hours leaving at 3 pm, meaning we were to arrive at a reasonable 8 pm. From there we would meet our kind hosts who would guide us to check in to our ONLY pre-booked lodgings of the trip, have a sleep, then get up early for safari galore. Did that happen? No. What happened? This :-

Got on 4pm bus, snacks in hand. Turned out to be 5pm bus, snacks consumed. Began the bumpy bumpy ride. Then promptly halted the bumpy bumpy ride due to traffic jam. 2 hours of shuffling along at walking speed. Until i decided to go for a wee. Then suddenly everything started moving. I cannot perform under pressure. So whilst attempting to mark my territory on the base of an unsuspecting tree, all engines were ferociously brmming into action, people were jumping through moving doors, shouting at each other to hurry up. Not a drip was exiting me. Not a drip. Not a drip. In fact it felt like my liquid was retreating. Droplets of stage fright. Every second that sauntered by felt like an eternity. An eternity of sauntering. Whilst people's cries for me to jump back in the Bouncy Bouncy Bus peaked, a different tactic was adopted. I thought of panpipes. Fucking relaxing panpipes. I weed. Jumped on bus.

BUS

We three slept for a few hours, on 'n' off. Until somebody announced at midnight that our arrival in Kaziranga WAS IMMINENT. Alert. As getting on/off a bus is a stressful task to say the least. Turned out IMMINENT meant nearly 2 hours away. So at 2 am we fought against the aggressive quartet who were competing to take over our 3 seats. I would like to say we took their ignorant, idiotic, selfish pushings in a light hearted manner, but actually they just pissed us right-royally off. Off the bus skedaddled. We were left in a bizarre dusty silence after nearly 10 hours of bumpy bumpy juddery bus action.

Technically this is Day 5 BTW. FYI. IMHO

So here we are. By the side of the road. In Kohora, the village guarding the entrance to Kaziranga National Park, where the largest population of one horned white rhinos reside, in deepest darkest Assam. At 2 am. Everything closed. No lights on. No people. The occasional bus/truck chugging by. No clue as to where our reserved beds are. Just 2 massive plastic rhinos for company. Obviously our hosts have given up on the idea of meeting us. So, What To Do?

First things first. Go 'ermm' a lot. Wander around in attempt to find someone, anyone, to ask either 'where is our hotel?', or 'do you own a hotel? If so, can we stay in it?'. No dice. So, we jolly on down the pitch black 500m stretch to the Tourist Complex, with only our previously bought watches to illuminate the path (Sam's and mine are suitably called 'Maksun Illuminators',- illuminating was what they were born to do) At the end of the road, we found a light and lay down under it. Sam with his enviable camping mat. Us with only our fatigue to help us sleep. Noises of invisible monkeys rustling, mega moths frantically fluttering and the occasional barking gecko. It was pleasantly warm. We would love to describe the feeling felt. But, we dont think we can. Glorious.

In our semi conscious state we were introduced to funny smiley night shift man on his way to deliver chai to the early rising safari goers. We explained our situation, and after he had completed his morning tasks he kindly ushered us to a not particularly pleasant 20 bed dorm, with instructions to present ourselves to the day manager at 9 am. There were no sheets, and 9 am was a mere 4 hours away. So we decided to walk to the larger of the lodges and enquire as to availability of chai. Got it, outside. Sun rise was disgustingly perfect. As were the monkey's that decided to perform for us.

The crescendoing jungle wildlife noises added to the magical atmosphere. Pretty heavenly. Kitchen opened an hour later. Poached eggs on toast x 2, Fried eggs on toast x1 + lots more chai before meeting with day manager and agreeing on being moved to a beautiful 1 bedded room (big bed). Nicer than any other room i have seen in India. It was most large, cool, with a wonderful balcony looking over the Kaziranga Complex, and the most incredible tree we've seen (think Ferngully), with a sanitised bathroom and running hot water. And what's more it was cheaper than the hotel we were meant to be in.

Moral of the story - a horribly delayed bumpy bumpy bus leads to many a wonderful experience. Or every cloud has a silver lining. Or when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Or none of them. I can't think of the perfect one. I think there is one though. Signing off.

Current QB goings on/going ons.

2010-04-20T19:07:00.010+01:00

Right, here's some real juicy Quilliam Brothers goss, as it has been a while. It has been a while for a valid reason though. It would've been a bit pointless to have a blog containing 'errrrr, we dont know what's going on' with a pic of us shrugging. We have been riddled with uncertainty. Numerous factors have caused this reticence, but to summarise, it is all down to the question of premises. We have been putting most of our energy (4.75 joules) into a particular property. Blinded by how ideal the building looked and generally WAS internally, we refused to consider the factor of its location. For those who don't know where it is, just imagine the place you would LEAST like to be at 2 am on a friday night/saturday morning in Newcastle City Centre. I am not saying this would make the tea house fail, as its success has always depended on loyalty, and the small detail of location shouldn't be that huge an issue when your customers are loyal. But, in the end, it was too large an issue to completely ignore. So we have decided to leave it be for the time being, and hunt down some more locations, this time with extra knowledge and a secret weapon in the form of Mr X (N.B - He's not really called that, though i very much reckon he's considering a change as it sounds so mysteriously cool. And signatures would be a doddle.). Mr X is helping us no end. He's one of those Chartered Surveyor chaps which we kind of knew from day one, but never asked for his assistance as we, like most normal people, hadn't a clue what the flip a chartered surveyor's function was. We still don't really. Despite numerous explanations. But we DO know that he knows stuff about buildings that mere mortals can only dream of knowing, and is a lovely man to boot. So we are appreciating the assistance no end.

There is a lot of intense discussion* happahappening at QB HQ these days. The buzz words being RISK, COMPROMISE, EVOLUTION, STAGNANT and TEA. Referring back to the previous observation of our Boots Meal Deal choices, i can tell you that our intense discussions are productive, provide food for thought and allow for grievances to be aired in a healthy way. We are very different people despite the whole similar genes thing. And that is GOOD. It is much more preferable to have ideas flying left right and centre (and occasionally colliding and exploding) even if you have to spend time and energy sifting through them, than to have a festering pool of one opinioned bleurgh.

So, what CAN we tell you about the project? The tea side of things is going very well. Part of the hypothetical success of the Quilliam Brothers project has always been about the tea. Our palates are refining (ha!), our knowledge is increasing, we are learning what the tea trends are, how to market the tea, how to make a perfect brew and how to make it all look and sound pretty. We will be stocking a few reputable shops in town and other places, giving away some free samples outside of unis, getting a permanent place at a market or two, and generally making the name recognisable. The web shop is probably nearly finished, though we have been saying that for a while. I have given up on estimation, as I'm always very wrong. So let's just say with great uncertainty that it is possibly slightly ready. With the tea house, our goals haven't changed, only the realisation that things take bloody ages, and impatience is not a virtue. We have the same amount of enthusiasm as before, and WILL succeed in providing a well run, adaptable, personable place to art in, music in, eat in, study in, drink in, film in, cosy in, read in, etc.. or something, but it WILL take a lot longer to finally get there. But when we get there, boy will it be froody.

*Arguing

That is all for know. Here's the first cuppla days from the mega trip.

Day 1. We had the afternoon to kill in Lovable London. Tiddled around at the National History Museum, which was great even though the Blue Whale was cordoned off. Also spent some time at the 'not as great as we imagined it to be' science museum. Plane, departing late PM from Heathrow. Fanny around with Oyster cards before jumping on one of them tubes. The Piccadilly one to be precise.

Checked in after unloading knives and !DANGEROUS LIQUIDS! into hold luggage. Jolly on through to departure lounge. Do customary airporty things. Buy 2 cups of tea. PG tips - tasted of plasticy fish, or fishy plastic. Expensive. Milk in tubey thing. Great development in the milk storage arena there. Lots of people buying lots of things. Are they mental? Probably.

'Richard. Richard? RICH? RICHARD!'
'Yes Darling'
'There's a cashmere scarf over there for only 55 pounds! And a bottle of perfume i dont need that's usually 35 pounds! But here it's 34 pounds! I think i'm going to buy them with my pounds! I want to spend my pounds!'
'But, we are going on holiday to the Caribbean darling, Cashmere scarfs will probably not be needed. Not to mention the fact that you brought 3 other fragrances with you for 2 weeks of what will essentially be sitting on a beach.'
'But we are in an airport. An AIRPORT! I cant not buy anything. Something in the air makes me want to own EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING. Could i have your wallet?'
'Ok Darling, as long as you get me something gadgety.'

Board, three in a row, in the middle aisle. 8 Hours to Muscat in Oman.

Aeroplane food is weird. It all tastes/feels the same, whether chicken breast, pasta or omelette. All got menus. 'A La Carte' dinner offering - Veg Penne Gloop, A wedge of rubbery Cheddar, 2 crackers, and some delicious chocolate mousse-y cake thing. Then tea. Tasted similar to our QB Indonesian offering, IMHO. Breakfast was very strange oily pancakes, chicken omelette, muffin and a croissant (except they forgot to give me one). Great movie selection. Me - Twilight New Moon (secret fetish), Law Abiding Citizen. Chubs - 500 days of Summer, 50% of District 9. Sam - Law Abiding Citizen, 50% of District 9. All of the movies were horribly censored, hence only watching 50% of District 9, as the last 50% consists of mostly the f word. Wonderfully so. Instead of 'fucking crazy', which was clearly mouthed in 500 days of summer, she went 'absolutely berserk'. There was some snoozing. But only some. And some chess. But only some.

Day 2. Landed in Muscat at something-confusing-o clock. Very air conditioned. Very shiny floors. VERY shiny floors.

Lucky enough to witness legman - he's 80% leg, but 100% man. A rough sketch to illustrate his wonderful anatomic arrangement.

Me and the hijab-ed shop assistant shared a giggle. Nice, moments like that. Dont know her from adam, and never will, but for a brief moment we shared something. Albeit suppressed hilarity at a man with ridiculous legs.
By what we saw, Muscat doesn't really come close to getting the juices flowing. I have since looked at images on the World Wide Web, and it looks ok, though somewhat manmade. From the aeroplane, however, and as far as the eye could see from the airport, there appeared to be little else but dust/sand/the occasional watered, manicured lawn until the flat arid landscape hit some equally dusty/sandy/arid mountains. And looking at the postcards on offer in the airport, Muscat contained nothing but camels, bendy daggers, and snake charmers. A Costa coffee house was there, as was a Subway sandwich establishment. YAY! Bring on the western chains! Caught our first glimpse of the wonderful Indian Flare Craze. Which is just hitting them, 40 years after they appeared in Engeeland - More on that later. I got scared with the foot washing in the bathroom, so failed to go about my business. Sam snoozed on the highly polished floor having failed to squeeze under the armrests of the chairs.

He also wanted to own a kaftany thing. A la Dizzy Gillespie (that's actually a boubous i think, not a kaftan. But same sort of thing) We held him back as he strained to enter the airport 'look like a local' shop. Efficiently boarded the next plane, and jetted off in a Mumbai-y direction. Pan pipes caused a lot of mental stress, as they wistfully tooted in and out of ear shot throughout the entire 2 hour journey. I think the idea is that they are there to make you relax. But nothing, NOTHING, in this world makes me more likely to cause damage to something than monotonous panpipes. I would consider bringing something explosive onto that plane, not to damage the people (though that would probably be an unfortunate bi-product) but to destroy the panpipey music. Oman Air's color is a sort of metallic blue. It's very nice, though it's branding to the MAX. Now, a bit of branding is healthy and effective. But boy do they push the Oman Air Blue. They are a brand new company, and generally did a good job of getting us to our destination. Everyone was very pleasant, and the ride was groovy. Got us discussing what it would cost to start your own airline. Seeing all the tankers, drivable stairs, buses and other airport vehicles with the Oman Air stamp on. Lots of bats was our conclusion. But if they went bust, they could sell it all to Isle of Man Air, as they would only need to paint an 'I' at the beginning of Oman.

This brings us to landing in Mumbai. Shantaram is, in a lot of ways, a great book. Emilee Emilee Emilee agrees not. His description of landing in Mumbai is pretty spot on. This is the second time landing at Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport, and the feeling was the same. I dont know if it's the calm before the storm, the nervousness caused by the impending whatever, or just because it's the first taste of india, but the moment you step off the plane into the fatigue inducing blanket of intense whoomphy heat, a tingle of unparalleled excitement whistles through you. The smell of Mumbai is the most incredible thing, and hits you immediately, and will stay with you forever. Unless you have anosmia. If you do, don't worry, baby's heads are over rated. From there we hastily changed a small amount of pounds into Rupees, and were guided to a taxi which we could easily have found on our lonesome. And so began the 3 week constant offering of assistance/services that we in no way would ever need, and were expected to pay for. The taxi ride was a fantastic introduction to India.

Chubs was instantly spell bound with the smiley men on mopeds, beepy horns, smells smellier than the smelliest smells you've ever smelt, sugar cane juicers, big pans of mysterious frying things, over fly-overs, under fly-overs, in between elaborately decorated trucks, past men selling dangly metallic packets of unknown from nearly ruined houses adorned with polished pepsico signs, arguments, camaraderie, folks carrying hessian wrapped packages 4 times their size on their bonces, beautiful beggar girls wearing their dirty best dress, bicycles, mopeds, scooters, rickshaws, tuk-tuks, posh cars, shit cars, taxis, buses, trucks, pedestrians, buffalo drawn carts, all competing for every cm of road space that becomes available, slums, super delux tower blocks, abandoned concrete blocks, fish markets, meat markets, veg markets, street markets. There's a lot to take in. It's wonderful.

Arrive at hotel. Walk into the A/C-ed reception. Once the door closes there's a bizarre separation from the chaos just outside. Quoted outrageously over priced room, despite knowing the staff from last time. Got a cheaper room by agreeing to shove a mattress on the floor in a double chambre. Mumbai is expensive, comparatively. Showered, then changed from not so suitable travel garments to a light linen trou and airy t shirt combo. Ordered first chais (delish) and lots of water. Then out to the mayhem again. Walked to the Gate of India.

Nice chat with photo man, with whom we had our first cricket craic. Saw the blowed-up hotel.

Went for first curry. mmmmm.

Mumbai always delivers on the culinary side of things.

Walked to the ocean, sat on the wall by the sea, Marine Drive. Contemplated our bizarre where-abouts in silence.

Taxi to hotel.

Chai.

Shower.

Bed.

Returning is as pleasurable as leaving.

2010-04-11T03:00:00.006+01:00

Three weeks have passed. More than, in fact. And, oh, what a more-than-three-weeks they have been. We have done our fair share of sweating, bus riding, tea tasting, toilet sitting, photo taking, tout ignoring, curry consuming and rhino spotting. But admittedly less than our fair share of sleeping, washing, shaving and blog updating.

The love/hate relationship with India has deepened. Never was there a moment that we just sat down and concluded that what we were spectating was 'O.K'. Spectacular and rancid. Stunning and feral. Magical and repulsive. Wow and bleurgh. If anybody claims to have left India with only sunny memories of their experience, then they are UNTRUSTWORTHY, and probably insane. You can have your heart blindly set on finding your spiritual epicentral whotsit all you want, but even with your third eye closed, you can't help but see filthy things, be repulsed at hearing a fully grown man ram sticks down his throat to clear his stomach of a morning, or feel helpless after witnessing the scale of the heart wrenching poverty, or get livid when rammed 3 to a seat for 18 hours in 45 degrees driving past mountains of raaancid rubbish at 10 mph on dusty, carbon engulfed roads that are as flat as our lovable Jordans chest. Yes, yes, it is all part of the experience, and it couldn't be any other way. It is addictive. It is traveling at its best. But it's still, sometimes, bloody horrible.

And i really mean addictive. In the way gambling is addictive. You love it for the highs. And you can only have a huge high after a massive low. The lower the low, the higher the following high. It is worth the massive bumpy bus ride, and the sweaty back breaking hike just to find yourself on the back of an elephant as the sun rises, staring at one of the few wild rhinos left in the world. If you can call protected in a national park, wild. Which i dont think you can. But let's, just so we can feel a little better about ourselves. As it's scary how much space we humanoids are taking up. There's alot of people in India, to be sure. 1.2+ Billionish. 30 million in Mumbai alone, with some people saying an extra 20 million havent been counted as they are address-less. Every day nearly 19 million people travel on trains (thankyou India Rail for that stat). That appears to be a sickening amount of people. And it is shocking how over populated it feels. But it's 20ish times the population of England, and 25ish times the area of England. Meaning density per km sq in England is higher than that of India. Unbelievably enough. I have a theorem or 3 as to why this appears so though -

Theorem 1. Maybe it is the fact that here life is neat. Trim little gardens, neatly parked cars, buildings efficiently housing many a considerate person, quiet polite activities, well behaved queues, strict rubbish collecting, silent unassuming logistics, all encompassing super markets, all working hard to hide human acitivity. In india, there it is. In your face. Big piles of rubbish, beds and settlements on the street, hundreds of people waiting on the train stations for hours and hours to board a train you have to squeeeeeze on to, big fuel guzzling noisy horn beeping traffic, ear piercing distorted music, weddings by the side of the road, people buying stuff from the shops upon shops upon shops upon shops. -You see human life everywhere you look. Even riding through miles of paddy fields, there'll be a man taking a shit nonchalantly next to the busy train track as if there's no other place on the planet to go, or a happy fella selling whotnots by the side of the dirt track as if he has discovered a new business hot spot, or a group of guys joyfully washing their buffalo herd in one of the last remaining water holes of the summer. I guess there's no difference between that and happening across an intrepid rambler in the Yorkshire dales, or passing a lonesome Tractor being piloted by a beardy farmer in the depths of the West Country. But, in India, it just seems more real, more human.

Theorem 2. Roads, and rail tracks attract people in India. In England, when selecting a route, one generally chooses the big, zippy motor ways, which are hidden away as much as possible. This allows us to go fast and make lots of engine noises and smells without pissing anyone off. No body wants to live next to a main road. So when on a journey, you will pass fields and little else 'til you hit the city. But traveling through India, there are no choices in which roads to take. You take the road to somewhere. And that road brings possible business opportunities, cheap, easy deliveries from other towns and cheap, easy links to other towns. So all along that bumpy road there will be shops and eateries and houses and people and animals and biff baff bosh

Theorem 3. Perhaps the last Indian census missed out a fair few people.

Now 3 weeks isn't a long time to be away. But boy, by the end, did we miss the home comforts. This can be waved off by the more hard core travelers as just plain pathetic. But 'Mega Bus Syndrome' is REAL. It is the concept of how ever long the journey, the last chunk of it will be fraught with impatience and the desire to be where you are going, NOW. 18 hour train journeys. The first 15 hours are fine, but the last three seem to take longer than the previous 15. The 7 hour Newcastle London MegaBus Slog. First 5-6 hours, not a problem, but the last hour - aarrrrgghhhhh. The same with long trips. 5 month super trips. The first 4 months + go by in a mostly joyful blissful whistle, but the last couple of weeks are just painnnful. The first 2 and a half weeks of this trip was simply fantastic. Nothing really pissed us off, made us miss home. But the final days, i could not wait to be in my big fluffy bed, eating warburtons toast and marmalade whilst watching Bargain Hunt with a big jumper on in relative silence.

Feeling uncomfortable in an unfamiliar environment is an essential, wonderful part of anyones life education. It changes you, and the way you look at everybody and indeed everything. But to appreciate the effect it has on you, you have to come home. And that feeling of coming home, is unbeatable. Just make sure you dont forget what you felt whilst away. 'Who never knew the price of happiness will not be happy.' Wiffle Wiffle.

Night Night Chaps. Tomorrow will follow tea house and general Quilliam Brothers news, and the beginning of the long task of blogging the trip. With a focus on Tea. After all, Tea is why we are here, why we were there, and was only mentioned once in this installment.

P.S. Try saying 'blog' as if you're Harold Bishop in a tiz, it makes the use of the disgusting word a little less repulsive.

NOW

2010-03-09T17:28:00.005Z

Wow, a LIVE picture! Internet on a train! Photo taken on a PHONE! Isn't the future wonderful?

Yes, we are on our way. The first leg is in motion. It has begun.

It has been mentioned that we work well as a team because we each bring something different to the table, be it opinions, light snacks, or ideas. Nothing illustrates this more than our Boots Meal Deal Choices. I had previously consumed half a Meat Supreme pizza, so didn't partake. But IF i wanted to, i would have chosen a Chickeny wrap as my main item, packet of meaty crisps as my snack, and an orange juice as my liquid. On this here london bound locomotion, Chubs is to my left in front of me, in seat 21, with a Shapers Egg and Cress sandwich (i know, i know), a tub of olives, complete with pointy stick, (i know, i know) and a sparkly fizz water (i know, i know). Sizzle Quizzle in number 22 has a ham and cheese and pickle sandwich, Shapers still raspberry juice with a hint of apple, and an oat crunch yoghurt. It is rumoured that there are as many Boots Meal Deal combinations as there are Rubiks Cube arrangements (49 quintillion-ish), or used johnnies on Whitley Bay Beach, so maybe it would be worthwhile including a trip to Boots in Military recruitment, or psychiatric diagnoses - it would probably give more insight into their psyches than showing them this...

Walking boots, 2 minnows and a toasty maker next to a mirror btw.

The craic is relaxed, the mood is optimistically excited. I forgot my goddam oyster card, and Chubs could not locate his prescription sunny g's. Apart from that, swimmingly is how things are going.

We fly in the PM tomorrow, so have a jolly day in London ahead of us.

Hope you are all well,

from the Three Muskatears

The tea-rip of a life-tea-ime.

2010-03-04T00:37:00.009Z

We are heading to India on Tuesday.

Here is the planned route-

Arrive Mumbai. Hang oot for a couple of nights before catching our flight to Guwahati Assam (we wussed out of the 60 hour Train Marathon, as we gained 3 days for spending 40 pounds on a shneaky short cut via the sky). There we shall see some rhinos. And ride an elephant or 2. Then we stay on a tea estate for a couple of days, learn things, until we feel the time is right to catch a train to Siliguri (Far), a toon at the base of the Mahabharat Himalaya. Brmm up to Kurseoung (not far), where we will stay for a couple of days and see a Darjeeling tea estate run by a wonderful man. Compare the differences. Try and act knowledgeable, that sort of thing. Pat will have his birthday, and we will put a candle in his brew. Then we go all the way to Darjeeling (not far) on the ever so charming steam train, where we will appreciate the stunning views and availability of Apple Pie, because by this time we will all have digestive systems of questionable stability. A short 2 day hike in Sikkim (not far), a RESTRICTED AREA, that you need a SPECIAL FORM to enter. From there, we will brmm back down the hill, catch a train to Varanasi, be spiritual for a bit, or at least watch people being spiritual, then catch another train to Agra, where we will run to the Taj Mahal, gasp at it's awesome-ness, before jumping on another train and chug to Mumbai. One last night of Mumbai Madness, then on a luftywagon with 50kg of tea, back home. Via Oman. Fin.

We are so excited, and cant wait to bore everyone with our photos and tales.

Tea house wise. There is proverbial light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. We have resolved the planning issue of where to keep our refuse. Never have i felt closer, and more in touch with bins. So we can FINaLLY FIIIINALLY put in our planning application to change the building from offices into a super delux teahouse-cum-artfest-cum-cinema-cum-smallscalevenue-cum-restauranty thing. Woop de woop! It will be a while still. And apologies, sincerely, for the irritating delay. Web shop is still getting tweaked also. The skeleton is there, just right now it's a skeleton that behaves very oddly indeed. So, sooooon you can actually buy some of our fantastic tea from us, which will be great as with each day that passes, our stock gets less and less because we drink it all. That's why we're not running a Haribo shop - we'd be bankrupt within a few days. And toothless. But i wouldn't eat the milk bottles or cola bottles. I would sell them. Kerchinggggggg.

Right. Signing off. See you when we return. Though i may do a shneaky blog from India, he says raising his eyebrows. Though it'll probably be a sloppy blog.

A Test! A TEST!

2010-02-22T20:11:00.006Z

A blind tasting test has been executed.

Aim : To find the one Breakfast Tea to rule them all, one Breakfast Tea to find them, one Breakfast Tea to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them.

Hypothesis : We were somewhat nervous and could not imagine what the results would be. We very much hoped that there would be a noticeable difference between tea scrap filled bags and quality loose leaf tea, but were not sure.

Method : In the line up - 6 big name branded bagged teas and 4 loose leaf varieties, including our very own Quilliam Brothers Breakfast Blend ©™©©™™™™

Each tea was steeped in boiling water for 3 minutes, and given an official glug of milk.

Each cup had a number on it, which corresponded to a list that only we had access to.

A gaggle of thespians in 60's attire was gathered, supplied with a ballot paper and a pen, and asked to taste each tea. They then wrote down their top 3 teas and any comments they had.

We brothers found it surprisingly exciting, and very much enjoyed the accompanying banter and discussions.

This is the only photo that worked. It's not ideal.

Here are the Results :

10th - Twinings Breakfast Blend (Surprising, as they have a very nice box)
9th - Morrisons Organic (Organic DOESN'T mean good?! You learn something new every blog)
8th - Coop 99 (disappointing oh you ethical coop you)
7th - Ringtons (Aaaaaa, the good old days)
6th - Yorkshire Gold (Lots of people said it was too nnnghhhh, chhhhsshhhh, and other mouth noises)
5th - Pumphreys Loose Leaf Breakfast Blend (Great tea, great people)
4th - Tetleys (booo)

Medal Positions -

3rd - A Good Hungarian Tea House Blend (which we believe is almost identical to our tea.)
2nd - QUILLIAM BROTHERS BREAKFAST BLEND
.
.
.
.
1st - Our New Super Delux Surprise Delish Blend (name is currently under discussion)

Conclusion : We were testing ONSDSDB as it was something a bit unusual. And to our delight it was received positively. But the thesps did mention that despite it's deliciousness, it wasn't very suitable for a builders tea as it was a touch too light and there was too much tea-y flavour. Which we very much agree with. So we will be selling it, but as a brunch tea, or evening tea, or elevensis tea, or something. We will let you know.

Yes, yes, those tea giants Tetley's did well, but we figure that's because its the most widely drunk tea, and people are used to it, and maybe have nice associations with it, or something. Not that it's not delish, as it is. In fact there is a gargantuan sack of it right next to me, as we are Tetley's supporters through and through. Generally though, the loose leaf teas got the top spots. Go Joe Public!

So even though we got the silver medal, it was to a tea that was decided cant really pass as a breakfast tea. We are relieved, as it could have gone quite embarrassingly wrong. Mind you, i wouldn't have posted it on here. I would have attempted to erase the painful memories and cried myself to sleep and bought a sports car to boost my self esteem and picked a fight with a small person, who would then beat me up, steal my sports car and drive to a cafe to have a cup of whatever tea was victorious. Which would cause the fading painful memories to return, and it would all begin again.

So there we go. If there are any scientific journals that want to use our findings, all we require is a knighthood or three.

There's more news, but i will make it into another blog entry so it looks a bit more exciting.

Byeeee!

P.S. Albino Squirrel

tea-nage mu-tea-nt tea-ro tea-urtles.

2010-02-03T14:39:00.005Z

Well. Well well well. Well well WELL well WELL.

We have put in a new super mega order! Along with the reorder of some of the old favourites, we have a bucket load of newbies, awaiting your condescending stares and hushed whispers as they sheepishly make their way to the cafeteria for the first time, only to trip with their trays and fall on their faces and get milkshake in their hair and soup in their long-johns. But then you realise they aren't so bad. In fact you get to know them, and because they have come from some other place, you find them really interesting. They get popular. So popular that they start running the show, and before you know it, you are the one getting whispered about and minestrone in your undergarments. It's the circle of life. Or something.

In other news the Great India Trip of 2010 has been delayed slightly. We are now departing on March the 10th, returning on April the 1st - but we aint no fools! Or are we? Discuss.

Doing things this way means we are sure to catch some tea processing, and we have been invited to stay on some of the most highly regarded estates in Darjeeling, which is overwhelmingly generous of the owners. We cannot wait. There will be pics a plenty and a torrent of tales, toot diddle peep.

We met with the fire safety people, and they say it's ok for us to have people in the building, which is great. It would be a bitter disappointment if we opened the tea house, and no one was allowed in. Also, they say we are allowed fireworks and a mega bonfire inside on the opening night! Which is great news.

Right. News flash over. We hope anyone, anywhere who has supped a Quilliam Brothers Brew is super. And those who haven't, we hope you do sometime sup a superb Quilliam Brothers Brew. Supposing there are those who are fibbing about supping a QB brew, then fess up, supplement your tea supply and show your support with a supreme sup. Ahhhhh, words.

xxx

In the words of Alan Partridge, REVIEW MY TEAS. GO ON, REVIEW THEM.

2010-01-28T18:28:00.002Z

A very lovely review of our Breakfast Blend off a lovely chap named Stuart Holmes. He runs TruBru - a brillopad blog about tea. Cheers Stuart!

Teasting.

2010-01-22T14:27:00.005Z

Hello bloggy blogloids from Blogsville with the postcode BL06 6er5! Last night, the 'Big One' returned from Pest of the Buda variety. This meant the Quilliam Brothers were reunited again and tea tasting could commence. The 'Big One' with with his tufty hair, 'Chubs' with his quiffilicious fringe and 'S.Quizzle' with his sidey p began tasting......

Whites were first- After much debate (and insults thrown at each other....."No! I prefer that one you tufty sod") We picked 3 delicious, scrumbumtious, reallyhealthyforyoutious white teas. They are geet propa lursh and tha'...ayyyyeeee. Geet pleasant on the teaste (harrrrr, I did a tea pun) buds (Rights, geeet luv a crate of bud lyk) and lyk mint at being mint for ya....lyk, antioxidants ya kna.

Sencha teas were our next challenge- Sencha tea is shredded green tea, put that fact in your pipe and smoke it good and proper!....but don't put the tea in the pipe and smoke it...well I spose you could......Anyway, 2 were picked fairly harmoniously. So there! Delish!

Next in the ring were the Ceylons- 3 tickled our fancy so very much that we had to put a big tick next to them with a pen. I like ticks. Not the ones that bite you though. They are nastea.

Interval- We had half time snacks. Tom had his ninth lunch...the tufty sod.

Assam next- We picked one Assam because we already had A Sam.....rofl. It is a very delightful Assam, much the like the Sam we already had.

Miscellaneous blends- To be more precise, these were mostly smokey ones. They were interesting, i'll give them that. Not everyones cup of tea but certainly some people's (hence all of the requests). 3 more were added to the list increasing our range.

Some Blerbal Hends- A couple more picked here to add to our already exhilerating collection. Yumola!

Fatigue kicked in, so we had another break (I know, it's a hard life). Tom probably had his tenth lunch.

We then stepped into another gear for the last push. Like Newcastle United Vs West Brom on Monday (ish), like David Haye vs that huge Russian monster just recently,like.........2 bowls players which I don't know the name of I was watching last night when I couldn't sleep. Man, that is one poor game to televise. Absolutely terrible.....I suppose that's why it's on at like midnight. Mind you, I do enjoy the odd smasher they do. Anyway, Tea!

Basically we tasted some more lovely brews. Picked a few Rooibos's and some other ones.

I have not bothered to go into detail of each tea we chose today because that would be silly wouldn't it? I would be merely repeating myself as it will be on the webshop very soon, all shiny and detailed to all of your hearts consent.

In conclusion, we picked 24 more teas! They are tasty!! What? You want us to prove it? Okkkk then, we'll sell you some. The Webshop will be up and running soon, it is making progress. I hope 2010 is treating everyone sexily and I hope you enjoy watching Bowls tonight. Look out for those smasheroos! Much love.
Yours Sincerely,
nfjnfojwnefklsdnflkw the 3rd.

It's a mys-tea-ry.

2010-01-18T08:38:00.004Z

So, you blogalicious loverlies.

I have a coded message for you.

Decode it, and win a High School Musical 3 poster and stationary set, signed by the late Norman Wisdom.

Squeek. xxx

MWA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! Ha.

2010-01-15T17:48:00.002Z

TEA-na t-URN-er

2010-01-09T00:40:00.005Z

Ok, so an actual blog, not some uninteresting collage of famous brothers followed by a slight slag off of some inoffensive doopy doopy boppy pop music (song number 4 atm - 'That's just the way we roll'. In which they inform their faithful listeners of their crazy rock and roll lifestyle, {He woke up on his roof with his brothers woop. And there's a whale in his pool with his mother. Woop.} by way of the classic 'shit intro, shit verse, shit chorus, shit verse, shit chorus, shit epic bridge, shit chorus, shit chorus, shit outro' form. But my, aren't they cute?).

So, we all us 3, plus many more, had a day oot to the cinematics the other day for a 3D blasting of AVATAR.

Which was fantakka. I know everyone's saying it and buzz buzz, but it really felt like a new step in cinema. I felt emotions i thought unfeelable towards bluey, elongated, fluorescent humanoids.

Tea house wise, we are trying to get all terms nailed and agreed on for the premises. But it will be a LOT longer before we get going. We kind of wanted to be in around the end of November, but nooooo, April it will be probably. We are disappointed, but not livid. It all takes a long time, especially when agents are acting on behalf of people. So getting one simple question answered goes a little like this-

Q = question
A = answer

Q1 from us to agent. Q1 from agent to landlord. A1 from landlord to agent. A1 from agent to us. A1 is unclear, meaning Q2 is created. Q2 from us to agent. Q2 from agent to landlord. A2 from landlord to agent. A2 from agent to us. Aaahh, that explains A1, but also creates Q3. Meanwhile the landlord has created Q3 also, and both the Q3s hit the agent at the same time. Meaning the 2 Q3s and the subsequent A3s all splurge together to create an amalgamation of Qs, As, long words, ignorance and frustration that is unfathomable to any party.

And repeat.

It would be so lovely to just sit down with the represented and have a brew, make him see we are not rent dodging, house burner downers. But not in this world of distrust.

Web shop update. It is in the making. We got the first screen shots back from our wonderful friend who is donating his spare time to our cause. And it is looking sexy. If you're that way inclined. I estimate about 2 weeks, and you will be able to purchase away.

'Til then, you can purchase a selection of our teas from Mickley Garden centre, and hopefully 2 or 3 more places in and around Newcastle by the time we have got some new teas in. We will get some new teas in when we have tried the new samples, which are winging their way here AS WE SPEAK! Unless they are stuck in snow.

When the samples do arrive we will be having a bit of a tasting sesh. So please drop us an email if you want to come around to our ken, sip some teas, give your opinions and generally have a bit of FUN.

I had one more thing to say, but i cant for the life of me remember what it was. Maybe tomorrow when my brain is fresh and tingly.

Good night everybody.

P.S the title of this post was Chubs' first attempt at the tea house name, many moons ago. I am unsure as to why it was discarded.

BREW-thers

2010-01-09T00:26:00.003Z

Admittedly we don't bring you chuckles, molto shitty pre-pubescent pop, big budget film and television, tales of fairies, simply wonderful 80's hooks and looks, wacky wacky hilarity, chaotic law breaking blues, luftyplanes, patriotic war winning camaraderie, powerful hard-hitting musical theatre or psychedelic block smashing computery fun.

But we do bring you BREW.

P.S I have just listened to the Jonases' (thankyou http://www.grammarbook.com/punctuation/apostro.asp) music for the first time on el Spotify. Like, OMG, it's awful.

P.P.S truly truly terrible.

HapPy NEw yeAr!

2010-01-02T02:11:00.006Z

May your annum be filled with joy and tea. We wanted to kick start the year and avoid a slump in our enthusiasm, so we went and did something rash. Sooooooooooooo, we are pleased to announce.....

.

Coming on the 25th of February to be exact. That's right. We are all off for three weeks to check out the first flush Darjeeling teas. Exciting or what??!??!!!?? Lots to do before though. We are nearly getting the webshop going, so hold your horses (or whatever animals you tend to hold) for just a leeeetle while longer. Plus we have to get the bleeding planning permish for the premises. And stock a few shops. Doopey doop doop. I am so excited i can hardly contain myself. I need a calmy downy brew. A nice cup of Quilliam Brothers Green anyone?....?.........hmmm?..... Ok, just me then. I will force feed the cat, just to have a brew companion. Might have to mix it with gravy first though. Mmmmm, gravy tea.

xxx

THE FIRST MONTHLY MOST-EXCITING-VISITOR-TO-THE-WEBSITE-THIS-MONTH AWARD

2009-12-29T15:52:00.008Z

Wow - what a rather exciting number of exciting-visitors-to-the-

website-this-month there has been!

Through the technological wizardry that is so easily accessible

these days (most technologies now being stocked in your local

grocers) we have been able to matriculise and verificulate that

we've had visits from Athens, Olomouc (it's in the Czech

Republic) and one from an unspecified place in America

(I know! America! That's the one that's in all the films!).

However, despite the heavy competition, we are very proud to

announce the winner of our first monthly (likely not to continue)

most-exciting-visitor-to-the-website-this-month award.

We would like to award our first monthly most-exciting-visitor-to-the-website-this-month award to...

...the mysterious visitor from Wombwell, near Barnsley.

Please get in contact to receive your very* special** prize*** that actually exists!****

Our consolation to everyone else, but please be comforted in the fact that we are chuffing chuffed that ANYONE is looking at our site. We would like to thank you for doing so and implore you to carry on doing so as our web shop is imminent*****

All the best, a very bappy new year to all you bakers and a very happy new year to all the rest.

xxx

*not very

**ordinary

***disappointment

****is entirely fictional

*****fingers crossed

Tea's the season to be jolly.

2009-12-25T19:36:00.002Z

Pigeon.

2009-12-14T16:54:00.002Z

It had really feathery feet.

MARKETRY. Not marquetry. Nor a marquetry market. Althought there might have been some marquetry at some of the markets.

2009-12-14T16:46:00.005Z

It's Chai time we got round to doing this

2009-12-08T14:35:00.002Z

Seeing as we had rather a few requests for our chai recipe this weekend in Carlisle, we have digitalised it and uploadered it for your own personal usage - find a link for it on our homepage.

It's ALIVE!

2009-12-07T19:45:00.002Z

We have just completed our first weekend of trade. Carlisle, my nizzle, was the destination. And it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. We got lots of interest in and recommendations for the tea house. We learnt of teas we have never even heard of. And met some wonderful people. Three areas of life that people are guaranteed to be lovely - Tea People, Bee People, and Market People. I would like to add Beardy People also, but not enough scientificy research has gone into that.

Market graft is tough, and has left us all a bit spent. Especially as we have been bagging allll day again in preparation for Wednesday at Newcastle market. But it's a nice tired. One that makes you fall asleep as soon as our head hits the pillow, and not wake up 'til your annoyingly soothing alarm tone starts a gently crescendo-ing 'til you can ignore it not longer and have to start the getting up procedure.

Please, Newcastle-ers, come and see us on Wednesday or Saturday or Sunday. We'll be around Grainger Street. Hot chai, and 50 odd kinds of tea, all served with something resembling a smile, depending on how rainy/bollock freezing it is.

There will be some pics up, but i am not the one blessed with beholding the images.

Lots of love, oh blog readers.

Pre-graft

2009-12-03T18:36:00.003Z

Logisteacal Nightmare.

2009-12-03T17:51:00.003Z

Logistic companies make me livid! Apparently they class an 18 tonne Lorry as "Small". I class Chubs as small, not an 18 tonne lorry. Tea couldn't be delivered here so we had to ask some very good friends of ours to guard our tea with spears until the evening. I bicycled to Wylam town centre, to the Toll House and gave my autograph to a toothless, very canny gentlemen. Just incase you do not understand my story I have drawn a diagram. B-dog and the toll house residents ferried our tea to QB HQ. I was very thankful of our friends but still livid with the logistics company.Morals of the story...Logistics companies are annoying, friends are amazing, you get a muddy face when cycling really fast along the black track. Amen.

Ribbed, for your pleasure.

2009-12-02T11:34:00.002Z

We have just recieved lots of ribbed cups for our market customers to drink lovely tea out of over the next few weeks. Oh the excitement!!!Things are coming together slowly but surely.

Jar-bs a guddun.

2009-11-30T19:06:00.003Z

Sample Jars Are Go!

- for tea samples, not anything else.

Ank-shus.

2009-11-30T15:17:00.004Z

Big things are afoot. Things are a big foot. Are things a big foot? A short begonia gift. A shit fart goo binge. If a tobogganer's hit, a fat hog riot begins.

Anyhoo, the big things i am referring too are the construction of market stall beginning. Assembled is the gazebo. Assembled are our ikea shelves of dubious stability. Assembled-ish is the market front. We have flyers, stickers in the making, big banner in the making, business cards in the post, sampler jars in the car, a hob, pots and pans, cups and special recipes.

But no tea.

Not for a few days, or so the logistical experts say. Harrumph.

Success!

2009-11-29T16:12:00.003Z

Lo and behold, a way was discovered! Prototype, fresh off the press. It will be used in a videographic way. But here is the audio just for now...

xxx

Jingle.

2009-11-29T00:16:00.004Z

The Quilliam Brothers theme song is being worked on. I tried to post version 1.1 on here, but i can only do movies or photos. How frustrating! Mother flipping idiot holes! It promises to create images of radiant beams shooting through the deep night of this region, whilst we become aware of gigantic shadows which, rocking back and forth, close in on us and destroy all within us except the pain of endless longing—a longing in which every pleasure that rose up amid jubilant tones sinks and succumbs. Only through this pain, which, while consuming but not destroying love, hope, and joy, tries to burst our breasts with a full-voiced general cry from all the passions, do we live on and are captivated beholders of the spirits.

Or maybe that was Beethoven's 5th.

Monday is Tea-Day. The arrival of our 130 kg of wrinkly leaves and other bits of dried nature. Then this tea-dious wait will be over.

Tea punning is fun, give it a whirl. Best answers get a snog from Ronnie Corbett*.

Sleep well, you bloggy fellows.

*not true.

Christmas Markets

2009-11-27T09:30:00.002Z

Although this has been mentioned, it was only in passing. So, here is a Public Service Announcement:

WE WILL BE ATTENDING 3 SEPARATE CHRIMBOBULAR MARKETISATIONS.

THEY ARE:

CARLISLE - 5TH AND 6TH OF DECEMBER

NEWCASTLE - 9TH, 12TH AND 13TH OF DECEMBER

ALNWICK - 19TH DECEMBER

PLEASE COME AND FIND US TO PURCHASE LOOSE-LEAF TEA (62 FLAVA-FLAVS OF BLACK TEA, GREEN TEA, FLAVOURED BLACK TEA, FLAVOURED GREEN TEA, FRUIT MIXES AND HERBAL BLENDS)

AND

CUPS OF TEA, INCLUDING SOME LOVELY HOME-MADE CHAI (WHICH HAS ALL GINGER AND CINNANINININININAMON IN IT).

End of Public Service Announcement.

(Disclaimer : this Public Service Announcement was sponsored by CAPITAL LETTERS)

life choices.

2009-11-26T09:51:00.005Z

Daddy

Or

Chips?

We are not...

2009-11-25T20:56:00.003Z

...these guys: http://www.quilliambrosexcavating.com/

But we do loik big traht'ers.

reading this...

2009-11-25T19:35:00.003Z

1767 'labourers are losing their time to come and go to the tea table; nay farmers servants are even demanding tea for breakfast with the maids. As much superfluous money is wasted on tea as would maintain 4 million more subjects on bread.'

-bready subject maintainance seems slightly harsh. Surely the wealthy land owners could spare a cup of pg tips and a 5 minute break in the hard labour? mind you, avid blog readerators, builders these days do somewhat take advantage of the tea break. Next time, i'm just going to give the plasterer a crusty bit of hovis, see if that doesnt get him grafting quicker.

In other news, the tea was put in the post today, so we are excitably awaiting its arrival.

Brews 4eva IDEMT xxx

Eine kleine nacht pic

2009-11-24T21:16:00.002Z

2009-11-24T18:45:00.002Z

-Yes, yes, many teas indeed. After umm-ing and ah-ing, and many other noises of the most deepest of thinks, we came to a decision (or Tea-cision, if you will. I won't). We had limited ourselves to an initial choice of 50 teas from every corner of mother earth, but we only went and discovered 12 MORE CORNERS, and simply had to choose more teas. So 62 was the final count. This is, of course, set to grow further as the Tea House grows. We will be listening to everybody's brew suggesterations in the future, so let us know of any wonderful concoctions you have sampled, and we will endeavor to locate something similar.

-Bremen was super, quiet as a mouthless mouse, but super. Ever walked down a busy street and have keine sprechen flying between people? Bizarre.

Big sausages, check.

Great facial hair, check.

Big foamy beers, check.

Efficient tram system, check.

Bremen - the Tea capital of Europe.

2009-11-24T13:26:00.001Z

Last weekles we went to Bremen in Germany so as to test lots of teas for to sell in the coming wotsits, particularly at Christmas markets in Carlisle (5th and 6th December), Newcastle (9th, 12th and 13th December) and Alnwick (19th December).

Whilst there:

- We slurped about 250 types of tea.

- We got caffeined to the nines.

- We nearly vommed.

- We ate a few sausages.

Not necessarily all at once, but not necessarily exclusively.

Above you should see some photoids that start, but hardly come close, to demonstrating the amount of teas there were to taste.

Twittlesticks

2009-11-24T13:13:00.001Z

We have increased our techno-status 2 fold by signing up to the world of Tweetoids - twit us on http://twitter.com/quilliambros for a more condensed version of what you'll find on here.

Welcome/Wilkommen/歡迎/добро пожаловать/recepción/환영/υποδοχή...

2009-11-22T14:46:00.000Z

...to this here Electronical Blog-Displaying Folio. Or "EBDeF" as all the trendy people with so much on in their lives that they have to shorten words are calling it. Thyre sum crzy cts mn. Wrd.

We're a business that has been around now for at least a week. We import loose-leaf tea and we're now embarking on a project that will provide a place for people to drink said loose-leaf tea. It will be an ultra-cosy, mega-friendly, super-groovy, groovily-super teahouse, but WAIT! As well as having a variety of cosy places for tea-drinkers to drink tea in, it will also have a gallery for artists to art in, a little stage for musicians to music on (and listeners to listen off) and a little cinemarey room for film buffs to buff films in. We hope it will become a place that people will feel comfortable in and make it their regular haunt (ghosts need not apply - unless you're the ghost of Karl Marx as we would really like to compliment you on your beard. And your social theorising. But mainly your beard).

Anyway, that's the idea and this EBDeF will serialise the progress of the Teahouse until its up and running - then it will become a device for showing the world our groovy friends what we made and what they did in our teahouse. Perhaps not what they did in the toilets.

In the words of How 2, thats How for Now. Over and out,

All at Quilliam Brothers (all 3 of them).

PS Incase you were wondering, Quilliam Brothers is made up of 3 brothers. Their surname is Quilliam.

PPS It rhymes with 'William'.