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
Friday 24 September 2010
Thursday 9 September 2010
DAY 8! AND RUBBER STAMP!
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.
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.
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