Quilliam Brothers

Expansion. Curve Ball.

2015-08-30T15:48:00.000+01:00

Hello Tutties and Frutties.

Nice to see you here at the QB blog. The poorly maintained, apparently unloved nether region of the QB social media. It has solid foundations though (very dense material), and the unnecessarily wordy construction was all glued together using drivel and bilge, so it can withstand a good deal of neglect.

Mostly everything has been running smoothly at the teahouse.

We lost some excellent staff members, though also gained some. Definitely sad, but we are so very happy to see people move on.

We bake every single thing in house now (apart from bread, which still comes from the formidable Sugar Down Bakery, and occasionally Gr*ggs when we run out :-), and the kitchen is a well oiled machine (extra virgin), albeit really really sweaty. We are still looking to expand the kitchen, so if you have kitchen experience, like to sweat and are after a job, please do get in touch.

The kind, thoughtful customers we have visiting us really do make the place what it is. We can put on nice music, polish the bannisters, ensure that we are chatty and welcoming, make everything delicious, and all of that sorta stuff but if you lot aren’t there to respond positively, it is all in vain. As always, thank you everyone.

As usual, we closed for two weeks this month (August). We souped up our cake display area, caked up our soup display area, created a new specials board, repainted everything (time consuming), shpongled what ever needed it, did some behind the scenes tinkering, invested in rugs and laminated 400 bits of card for the menus. Pat got a blister.

We also did something huge.

The story goes like this-

We three have been cogitating for quite some time on what direction to take the teahouse. We would like to make more room to fit you all in, so you don’t have to queue. We would like to open some sort of eatery/deli/excellent takeout place. We would also like to open a music venue. So we have been working on all of these projects. Here is a proposal we put together for a venue, just so you know what sort of trees we have been barking up.

The Rackets Club Proposal

All of these projects, for one reason or another (often frustrating and disheartening reasons), are either not going to happen, or are not going to happen for at least a year. So we began brainstorming.

One year ago, to the day pretty much, one of us went to Montenegro. A favourite place of ours. Whilst there, time was spent with estate agents. Many a property was viewed, including an abandoned olive mill. The price of this ruin was high. Unachievable. But it was nice to see it.

A year later, the price had reduced considerably, and the euro was weak.

We had some money, not enough, but some.

Enter CHRIS from stage left.

Chris Le Messurier, currently in Melbourne, but from Perth, Australia, is an old comrade of ours. He worked with us in Budapest, and has been a good friend ever since.

We four began chatting about turning what was a dream into some sort of reality - purchasing the olive mill, and turning it into accommodation of some sort.

We booked some plane tickets to Montenegro (One of us didn’t cos he is having a baby soon).

We fell in love (with the building, and the project).

Between the four of us, we had some money, not enough, but some.

So we loaned a lot of money.

And on the 7th of August, after a roller coaster of a ride (we nipped to Flamingo Land), we became the owners of plots 1828, 1829, 1832 in Podgrad, Stari Bar, Montenegro.

The Grove is born (Geordie 90’s teen TV link not coincidental).

http://thegrovemontenegro.blogspot.co.uk

https://twitter.com/grovemontenegro

https://instagram.com/thegrovemontenegro

Not fully formed yet, but a squirming, wriggly infant, unsure of where its limbs are and what they do. Definitely with uncontrollable leaks in various places.

We now have a 20 month period in which to renovate the place. Opening Spring/Summer 2017.

So that is what happened this summer.

It is all extremely exciting. The place will operate along side the teahouse. We will be very wary that the quality does not slip here in Newcastle. And perhaps, hopefully, you will be able to visit us over there some time in the future, for it is a place well worth visiting.

Big love to you all.

QB x

Magic Wiffle Waffle

2015-05-15T18:32:00.001+01:00

I used to go to London to get my hip serviced cos it was ill. When i was 6, or something. It was an annual trip, or something. I smelt a perfume the other day that boinked me right back to being small in a massive city, not entirely aware of what was going on. I always felt very safe. I think, though, that the city was smaller in my head then than it is now. I guess as a yungun you don’t picture the world as a map, as one contiguous place. You just get from one location to another and it takes a certain amount of time. Distance isn’t really a thing. That perfume mixed with the warm electric musk of the tube (THE tube. The London one. Not A tube for safely storing posters or funnelling liquids, or something) fills me with indescribable bliss. It makes me feel safe and excited, tiny and cared for. It makes me feel special and loved. So special, it seems, that merely in attempting to recall it i believe myself quite capable of describing an allegedly indescribable feeling.

My dad and I, no doubt after a trip to Madame Tussaud’s or the Planetarium, or both if i was lucky (that is said with no sarcasm - i boinking loved going to both of them and i hammered the keys pretty hard when i wrote ‘boinking loved’ there), found ourselves in a video shop. Real life VHSs. NOOO it was on the way to Hamleys. Another absolute treat - where i had the opportunity to trial play Sonic 2 on the Megadrive, destroy flippable remote control cars and where i got my magic pack of cards (they weren’t actually magic, they were a trick. Real magic costs more than £4.99). I still treasure them to this day. I also very much recall the smell of the plastic/rubbery magic balloon blower stuff (again, not actual magic) that you used to whack on the end of a straw thing and make sticky balloons, until it all got into a horrible mess, dried out and it got sneakily thrown out. It was also in Hamleys - and there is no mistake in this memory because i was mortified - that i did a fart in a populated elevator. I did that because my uncle did a one a few weeks before and it seemed to be received with great positivity. I thought it was ok. It is one of the few times in my life where my pops chastised me. ‘Control your bottom please’, were the words i remember being directed into my ear with sternness straight after we got out of the lift in front of the demonstrator for the rainbow magic (same shit) drawing board. Wise words, indeed. Stick by those words until you involuntarily lose control of it. Anyhow, it was a lesson learnt. Now i only let rip with great consideration (if i am certain i will not receive the blame; If i am on my own or if there is a small child around).

I was in TJ Hughes the other day. It wasn’t actually the other day, it was before christmas. And there was one of those cringeworthy promo vids on about the Twisty Worms. Heres a link to where you can buy a pack of 300- thoroughly recommended. 300 times the fluffy magic (ffs) fun. This was another great memory as a kid from Hamleys. So i got my nephew one, from TJ Hughes, before christmas. For christmas. If you work as a toy demonstrator in a toy shop, please don’t think your job pointless/soul destroying. You bring so much pure, unforgettable joy to the kids you try n flog your wares to. It is such an important job. You have had more of an impact on me in my thirty years than Buzz Aldrin and Elvis Presley and Gandhi and Princess Diana and Pat Sharpe combined. And i boinking loved Fun House.

Anyway, this video store. We got 5 videos for a fiver. Which, i am sure you agree, is a bargain. Even in yesterday’s money. Amongst those videos was Teen Wolf, with Michael J Fox. I had seen a snippet of that movie on the TV, and begged my dad to get it, amongst 4 other probably not-so-great movies. About 45 minutes in, the video glitched and restarted from the very beginning, only to run out of tape where the glitch occurred before. I have never seen past 45 minutes of Teen Wolf. Though those first 45 minutes i have watched many times.

I think i might watch the rest of Teen Wolf tonight because it is on Netfl*x. I wonder what happens. I expect he gets a bit power trippy, boinks the blondey, makes a fool out of himself, but ends up with Floof or Tiff or whatever her name is, and then makes amends and wins the basketball match that brings much joy to the highschoolers and the somewhat laid back coach. I’ll tell you what i remember very vividly about that movie - every character is so very likeable. That house party scene with the wAckY friend leading the party games tho!!!!! Even the extras are likeable. Not like the movies today. I know it was shot in a goofy manner, and the whole thing is a bit slap sticky. But the acting is GOOD. And surreal and excellent like a good story should be. And don’t get me started on the most excellent sound track. Ok, do. Man, nothing screams ‘wolf transformation’ like weird disjointed synth slap bass. And the fat brash brass synth is used in the most bonkers of places. It’s like the director had a mathematical john cagey aleatoric approach to soundtracking it - pick one synth demo track at random, match it with a scene at random and that’s it done. I love it. I absolutely love it. And i am a big fan of ending a scene with ‘Look, i gotta go’ *person walks off*. I wish that was acceptable in real life.

I didnt mind this glitch on the VHS. It was part of watching it. Knowing fine well the ending wouldn’t happen. It was just accepted. Leave the rest to our imaginations! The sky’s the limit! That was our Teen Wolf video. No big deal.

WHY this trip down memory lane now? Well, this perfume smell, along with Teen Wolf being on Netfl*x along with seeing a real life Twisty Worm (i thought them to be extinct) along with feeling sad about dead animals and our new government made me hanker after a time of feeling safe and excited about the world (and the magic it contains). I thought adults were great. I trusted them. All of them.

I had a happy happy upbringing. The fact that my mum and dad never left my bedside during the hip disease time is a small illustration of that. I was in Poundworld on Tuesday. Poundworld is similar to Poundland (pronounced like ‘foundland’ from Newfoundland). Presumably, despite the way it appears in our realm of consciousness, Poundland is one of, or the only, landform in Poundworld. There may be poundoceans. Full of poundfish. Which you would cook in your poundpan, pop on the poundplate, and feed to your poundwife with a poundtiramisu for poundpuds. Perhaps in Poundland, there is a PoundNewcastle, with rival cheap poundshops. Called Poundpoundland and Poundpoundworld. Etc.

In Poundworld i was buying some Penguins. The biscuit. Obvs. But i always like to go and check out the other bargains, for example a spatula. So i went to look at the cookware. Opposite the cookware are the toys. These toys are deliberately placed at toddler height by EvilCorp™. So the toddlers ask their mums to buy them. So a toddler did ask his mum to buy them. It wasn’t really his fault though. But he was asking for her to buy them for his sister, because he thought she would like them and he already had got some crisps. They were pink toys. Girly toys, if you will. I will, but will quickly apologise to my girlfriend for doing so.

This was a delightful notion, i thought. His (not thin) mum replied with-

*massive over the top sigh* ‘What the boink are you doing? Shut up. Put it down and shut up.’

Apart from she didnt say boink she said fuck. Then, whilst clinging on to her 10 packs of pork scratchings, waddled away from him with purpose, as if abandoning him was a good method of disciplining. I made note of the snack preference and quantity, because i’m a nosey little busybody.

Immediately i wanted to take that boy next door to TJ Hughes and demonstrate a Twisty Worm to him (thats sounds euphemismy. Stop it) To try and make the world feel magic and safe, because if he doesn’t think that now, he never will.

Now my hip is hunky dorey and I dont get to be taken to Madame Tussaud’s anymore. But on the plus i imagine i wont get told off for prrping in an elevator. I will give it a shot tomorrow. To see if anything has changed. My family has new kids in it. Kids that are getting to that same magical age, when the seeds for future nostalgia are sowed. What’s great is that there are people in their lives that bring them joy and i hope create those memories that, as insignificant and obscure as they seem at the time, will boink them in the face later in life when they smell a perfume or see a toy.

Maybe not knowing the ending of Teen Wolf is a good thing. Perhaps if i watch it then what remains of my childhood faith in humanity will disappear, and i will turn in to a despondent, inert shell. My dreams and wishes and possibilities for the future will shrivel as they cheer Michael J on the basketball court, Floof (or whatever her name is) giving him a snog, as the blondey jealously looks on. As predictable as humans eventual destruction of the planet and each other.

Or maybe i’ll just shrug, fart and blame it on the dog, or something.

I don’t have a dog.

Everything at the Teahouse is great. We feel on top of everything at last. Our staff are wonderful, and our customers even wonderfuler.

As ever, thank you for your continued support.

QB x

This post was brought to you today by the words magic* and boink.

*not actual magic.

Cartoon Army

2014-10-23T16:01:00.002+01:00

Yes indeedy everyone.

There ain't no snack like a Pink Panther™ wafer. On the packet it says 'THE PINK PANTHER™ MGM Studios Inc All Rights Reserved'. Now i don't know business too good, but it seems that Rivington Biscuits Ltd from Wigan have some sort of arrangement with MGM Studios/Pink Panther™. Which strikes me as strange. Because the Pink Panthér™ is kind of off the radar at the moment, entertainmentally. In fact i would say the only time the biscuit's target demographic have seen the PÎñk Pàñthér™ is on the packet of these biscuits. So it is hard to see the benefit of having old Pinky™ on the front. Maybe MGM studios pay Rivington biscuits for the privilege of having a sorta dormant character on the packet. Maybe its a super symbiotic relationship, where no money exchanges hands. MGM and Rivington mutually benefitting from Pinklechops™ being on some wafers. As far as i am aware, the only other such really long term relationship is again with Pinkford™. On fibreglass insulation. He is the 'spokestoon' (i did not make that word up) for Owens Corning insulation. They dye it pink. Just for visual contrast from other brands. A genius move. Bonkers, but genius.

What a terrible picture. Looks like he is gleefully erupting from some poor chap's arsehole.

If they had any acumen at all, Walter White and Jesse would have got the Smurfs as their spokestoons. Papa, completely fuck-eyed in a run down Smurfvillage, selling Smurfettes blue sex to make ends meet. DONT WORRY IT WILL BE HAPPY AND CHEERY COS THEY HAVE SQUEAKY VOICES.

HANG ON - Jesse PINKman could use our old friend McPinkletron™ as his own personal spokestoon. 'Sorry officer i can't comment on this, you'll have to wait for my spokestoon to be in touch'. Problem there is that, just like other panthers, Lord Pinkikins™ doesn't talk. THE PERFECT SPOKESTOON for such an operation.

Because we here at QB are all astute businesschaps and tea is the colour it is, we will be getting Charlie Brown as our spokestoon. Nothing quite screams a great british beverage like an american comic strip. Perfect. He will annoy everyone into buying tea with his mundane, self deprecating, pessimistic quotes. Oh, this is actually something that may work in England! I was joking before, but now i am serious.

Here at QBHQ, things are plodding along nicely. We are still learning. By gum every day we need to adapt and change to cope with whatever gets thrown at us (rarely physical objects, but every now and again…) We are getting faster, without losing any quality. Which is so very important to get you seated/served quicker. Shaving seconds off orders throughout the day certainly adds up to a tighter, more controlled service. We wouldn't have believed it, had we not witnessed it ourselves.

You will have noticed that we now open from 10am until midnight. There are good reasons for this. And they will be revealed soon. Let's hope before 2015 hits us clean on the face with a cold, soggy flannel. And we have changed the seating options a bit. It has slickened the operation - offering more tables for larger groups, as well as seating options for lone diners and those after a quick fix.

ALSO WE HAVE SIGNS. Just front ones for the moment as we are trying to manoeuvre through the tricky obstacle course of listed building consent for the side signs. Everything is hand painted using victorian techniques. And i hope you can see the quality from the street. All done by the ever patient Ashley Willerton. Please do check his gorgeous typography oot.

One of us went to New York (the one in America) this morning. Breath baited, we await his foody/drinky/culturaly findings.

'Breath baits for no man'. That would make a nice poster. Or a shit one. Can't decide.

As always, thank you for your continued support.

QB xxxx

China day 5 n 6.

2014-04-22T10:31:00.002+01:00

Hi Tea Fans,

You will be displeased to know that there is only about 0.25% tea based material in this upcoming splurge. One day we will talk about tea. One day. This is just a bit of China travel.

We pick up the story in GulangYu, just off the coast of Xiamen. This will mostly be pictorial.

It was evening on Day 4. I grabbed a 'milk tea', made with condensed milk, wrote a letter then went to bed.

Waking early, i got a ferry across to Xiamen. And spent the day eating, pretty much. I booked a train, for sure. And did some walking, absolutely. But it was mostly eating. This is what i did see -

ON THE BOAT. LOOKS SPACE AGE DOESNT IT?!! Oh yes.

THIS DRINK WAS DELICIOUS. After much communicative jolly, i think i learned that it was made from - milk tea with peanuts, azuki beans, barley and a layer of molasses jelly in the bottom. I had biffed my thumb a few days earlier, hence the red bit.

Sticky rice parcels.

Just some orfentik kultcha.

Mahjong.

DUCK! Hohoho.

Sea Beasts.

Sea Beasts 2.

Erm.

Textbook.

Commiwommidooda.

I got back to GulangYu at about 4, and then walked a lot. This is what i did see -

A building.

Foliage.

Harbour

Wedding pix.

This is the same lady.

Carts

Carts + action.

A trio of boats.

Shovel.

Curve.

Linear boats, dramatic clouds.

Tiny person.

Aviary at back, coconuts at fore.

Holiday makers, making their holidays.

Just next to this beach, from a street vendor man, i ate a deep fried mussel potato pancake. It was the top eat of the trip so far. Oh my.

Then i went back to the hostel and met the new roommates. We didn't talk much because i was tired. And then they snored and i hated them. But then we woke up and talked for hours over the day 6 breakfast, and they were lovely. All my instincts were telling me to destroy them for their night noises. But they combatted my unjust hatred with niceness. God damn them. From Xinjiang province, they were on a honeymoon of sorts. Snoring their way around China.

Then i went to catch the train to Shanghai. The 11.43. There was a tea convention on the following day, see?

This is a photo of me with another beverage. I dont usually do this strange thing, but these 2 beverages were incredible and i wanted to remember them. This was my first experience with a matcha milkshake. It was so very very delicious.

This was the sexy train. I had been looking forward to this train ride for quite some time. Months and months. This is a D class high speed bullet train. Words cannot express my extreme delight in riding it.

Internals

The view generally looked like this -

It was a 1200km journey. It went by so very quickly.

And then we were in Shanghai, and it looked like this. Zoomy train heaven. Swoon.

See you soon for day 7 where there is a tea convention and some delicious infusions and then sogginess in the glow of a Shanghai eve. xxx

Short and Sour.

2014-03-31T22:53:00.001+01:00

Here we are with our ever-undependable, scatty, floaty, disorganised prattle. With some very loose connections to tea, and tea house activities, we aim to bring you the least pressing, softest hitting affairs from our spot on Eldon Place in the greatest city North of Sunderland and South of Edinburgh. This is not rolling news. It is mostly standing still. Or if it does roll, it goes up hill with great struggle, and soon tumbles back down slope, further from the truth than before. Due to gravity and other science. No, it moves in eccentric bursts. As if fired from an unpredictable cannon. Boom. News. But not when or where we wanted it, and it actually fired the cannon, not the news. A great mishap. There is nothing breaking here. It is all wrapped in a shit tonne of bubble wrap. Thats right, metric. We are modern. We are on it. We have our fingers on the pulse and it is a Mung Bean.

THIS IS THE QB BLOG.

Erm.

Hi.

We are here to talk to you about Regulars, and Irregulars. We are new to the service industry, so can only assume all those who are not regulars must, logically, be irregulars. We can only assume because we don't talk to any professionals. Which i guess gives our place the chaotic, winging-it feel we have all grown to know and love. Similar to Uncle Jake who went on ebay, bought some sticks and crockery and took up plate spinning and can occasionally do 20 at once, but mostly just smashes loads of plates. But he is still making a name for himself in the neighbourhood. What with him being the only one giving it a shot. 'Oh JAKE, the plate spinner, yeah, i know who he is. SMASHING bloke.' (He is SO sick of people saying that. And with each plate that falls, he laughs maniacally, imagining a way in which he could break their skulls as easily…)

So, Regulars.

A huge amount of custom throughout the day comes from these fine people. People we get to know as friends. People we see more than our close family. So whether you are Double Macchiatto and Tap Water Fellow, Mocha Man, Leopard Buds Lady (Formally known as Assam Girl), Cappuccino and Danish Pastry Chap, Mr I Am Trying Each One Systematically, Police Constable 11PM Latte, Double Espresso With Sweeteners, Americano Architect Lecturer, 8am Breakfast Blend with Toast, Wednesday Dad, Takeout Black Coffee (With A Cheese Scone If She Has Been Good) Lady, Strawberry Cream Skater Dude, Besuited Skinny Latte Businessman, Scone and Ham Man, or Sean, we thank you for your support. We thank you for being here, it makes us feel good, and sane. And i hope you enjoy coming as much as we like having you. As one bro said-

'Remember when dad built the pond, and he was overjoyed when frogs moved in? That, i think, is a similar buzz to what i get seeing regulars come through the door.'

I am pretty sure the amphibian comparison goes only as far as the happiness gleaned from us hopefully making a comfortable environment (the pond), that people enjoy being in. Though someone did leave spawn underneath the stairs… Oh no, that was a pawn. Messy chessers.

I massive shout out to Ian. He has been coming since the beginning, and a nicer gentleman you ne'er will meet.

Irregulars.

WELCOME! It is very nice having you, and we hope that you have a nice time. Please enter with an open mind, and remember we are not Tea Rooms. We will not give you a snappy lidded metal tea pot on which to burn yourself, with a festering tea bag in. We will treat you like a human first and foremost, not a customer, and please treat us the same. What? Oh, yes, we know you were never going to treat us like a customer, but i mean please treat us like humans, first and foremost. Though humans that will happily bring you what your heart desires, if at all possible. Oh, no, i am sorry, we don't have any metal tea pots.

We wanted to put that on our doormat, but it didn't fit.

We love seeing the reaction of new customers. It is exciting, and still gives happy bursts. Whether you are day tripping in Newcastle, or if you have just built up the courage to come in, you are as valued as anyone else, and we hope that we convey those feelings in our service.

For Regulars, and Irregulars alike, we hope to keep the standards high, keep things changing so you do not get bored of coming, and above all, keep everything so completely friendly without it being contrived.

NEWS FLASH OVER.

QB x

LOGO

2014-01-31T23:45:00.001+00:00

Hello Blogatronz,

How is it all going? Gravy? Swimmingly? We hope so.

Here is a little insight into the QB logo. It may be of some interest to those who like wanky drivel about something that should not be that drivel worthy.

So here it is. The offishul logo.

There are a few things to explain, i reckon. First of all Quilliam is a Manx name. Our parents are Manx. It derives from MacWilliam. Olde Scots for 'son of William'. Manx means you are from the Isle of Man. The Isle of Man is in the middle of the Irish Sea. It's very nice. Sometimes. There are castles, and stunning coast, ice cream, lovely beaches, quaint villages/towns, too few surnames, cats with no tails, BASKING SHARKS and other incredible marine life, expensive petrol, online casino HQs, cheap tax (hence the online casino HQs), beautiful walks and countryside in general, kippers, boats, knobs, yessirs and this, the manx flag.

It is a triskelion, 'The Three Legs of Mann'.

So we began.

Here you can see we have dragged the three legs, kicking and screaming, into the beginnings of a logo of some sort. Actually make that kicking and kicking. And kicking.

Here there's some additional awful stuff happening.

The bottom bit is meant to be a tea plant (Camellia Sinensis) top two leaves and a bud.

The perfect pick for fine tea.

It is also meant to look like a q and a b. But it's so horrible.

Again, truly terrible stuff.

And now we decided to try and incorporate a rubiks cube. Purely because we like rubiks cubes.

Thankfully we threw that idea out.

This was a pivotal moment. This is when the logo turned circular.

Many cafe chains do it. For some reason the circle is the cafe logo shape. St*rb*cks, n*ro, c*sta, c*ntral bean, etc etc.

Anyhoo, from then on, we tried to make a cube into a circle -

Not Just Tea! Also awful logos with naff slogans!

There are those bloody leaves again.

This one is curvaceous, and i like it. More in keeping with the Celtic triskelions (triskelia????).

More bollocks.

Until at last we arrived at this.

It is a lot harder to draw than it looks. There is compromise throughout. The spaces in between the shin bones (below the knee) are smaller that the shin bone itself, so making it into a circle is hard. So hard that it is impossible. So what you see is a very uncleverly manipulated circle that isnt infact a circle. And the text took ages. And deciding what went in the middle middle as standard took ages. The middle middle circle is open to meddle with though. We pop all sorts of stuff in there.

Now lets get deep and meaningful. Why were we so hell bent on ramming three legs into a cube into a circle?

First of all if you say QB it sounds kinda cubey. But that may have been a happy coincidence.

There is the Quilliam/Manx connection with the legs, as discussed.

There are three brothers who are doing this. The legs, i suppose, might, kind of, a little bit represent us. The Manx motto, to which the three legs relate or vicaversa, is 'whithersoever you throw it, it will stand'. A motto of strength and unity. Perfect for a sibling run business. Perhaps. Perhaps it could mean that if one of us is unable to cope, the other 2 will always be there to support them. Perhaps.

And a cube has six sides, for sure. There are 6 members of the immediate Quilliam family. Us three, a sister, a mum and a dad. We wouldn't be here without the other 3, supporting and inspiring us. So, although not directly involved in the teahouse, they are there, and the teahouse would not be without them. So, there are 3 sides to the cube visible, but 6 in total.

We also tried to make the thing look a little nice and floral. Perhaps like a Camellia Sinensis flower?????!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!OMG!!!!!!!???!?!?!?

Well that was disgustingly up its own arse. But it's nice to share. Isn't it?

Isn't it?

LOOK I'M SORRY RIGHT?

NIGHT NIGHT x

PS, this was all done in Darjeeling, whilst sampling some of the teas we now ship in for your enjoyment.

18th October (Not really). And Day 4 of CHINA.

2014-01-24T21:50:00.001+00:00

THIS WAS WRITTEN ON THE 18th OCT 2013, SO I AM NOT ACTUALLY SITTING NEXT TO MALLARD ANYMORE. BUT NONETHELESS IT IS A LITTLE BIT RELEVANT.

Hello everyone.

A Quilliam Brother here. Updating you eager readers, begrudged readers, or those stumbling here because they are so mind numbingly bored they are clicking on any link they see (Here's one. Here's another one.).

This week we each had a day off. These are our first day offs since our return after summer, some weeks ago. I am on my one right now. Sitting next to Mallard. In fact, here's what i can see.

I love this place so much. So very much. The reasons are plentiful, but what overwhelms me and gets me a bit tearful is the fact that whoever made these marvellous elegant machines obviously gave a shit. And because of the shit that they gave, they will have been proud. It takes a lot of time, money and man power to build like this. The same goes for whoever was responsible for this museum. It is well thought out, generous, spacious, friendly and beautiful. And quality without being clinical. Safe without being nannyey. Informative without being patronising. A tough job for museums. You have room to tackle the subject in your own time and space, without anyone or anything telling you how you should tackle it.

Today is under a duvet. And it feels lovely. It makes a feeling of security, that it's ok to be in your own heed. It brings a muffled calm to everything. People probably aren't moving slower, talking quieter, but it certainly feels like they are.

The Teahouse has massive windows. This is great for watching the peoples, unless you are in the basement. The windows also let the weather in. And it is fascinating to see the change in atmosphere as the weather changes. We never imagined that what was going on outside would effect inside so much. It can be as simple a change as the sun going behind a cloud; chatty noise and movement will increase as perhaps people feel less restrained without the repressive glare of the sun. As the rains are a coming in, there comes a feeling of camping. That is, open but polite, excitable exchanges, as if not wanting to disturb your neighbours, but with a feeling of comradeship, brought not only by the community feeling of a campsite, but as if waiting out a storm together. Duvet days like today obliterate any sort of atmosphere. In a good way. Everyone is in their own space, and the place feels empty. Despite being full. Service is easy on duvet days, though we serve no less. Everyone knows what they are doing on duvet days.

I dreamt last night. It wasn't hard hitting stuff. There was snow, and with it a concern for our bees. But it was the first dream i've had in a while. It certainly made me feel more human. The three of us, though rested when we returned and reopened, have again worked ourselves into unhealthiness. The problem lies with the teahouse growing faster than we can keep up with. We simply cannot make enough scones. Which is fantastic news. Thank you all once again for your support. We have made some changes. We now open at 8 am Mon-Fri and 9am Saturday. Still staying open until 1am. We now do a slightly more substantial breakfast (still keeping our more more substantial Saturday Brunch menu) and start lunch at 11am not midday. We cannot reiterate enough how appreciative we are to our staff, who tackle anything that we (or you) throw at them. Though we have lost a few key members in the past weeks (what with it no longer being summer), those who have stayed on have more than compensated for our losses. And for that we adore them.

It's important for us to periodically rekindle our love for quality and craft. For that is what we do love. Without being reminded of such places as this museum and what it contains, you forget, as that's what humans do. It is worth being tired if what you are guaranteeing is something you can feel proud of. Admittedly, sometimes this quality is off, if we are overwhelmed, and with that comes embarrassment. But we strive, by gum we strive, to deliver good things. And any problems we learn from and try to improve upon. Until what we will have built will be as beautiful, wonderfully crafted and functional as the Mallard and her relatives. And then we will be as proud as Sir Nigel Gresley was. That's not yet. But it will be soon.

Here's Some China Blog!

Day 4.

To get you up to speed. Chaozhou is the city. 4.30am is the time.

After a brief self preen, i ventured out, strolling the 30 minutes to the bus station to catch a 6am o clock bus. It was fully booked, gosh darn it, so had to get the following bus at 8.30. The waiting room was cockroach ridden and full of phlegmy people. Also a man playing a treble heavy Kenny G-esque track on repeat on his phone. Which is enough to drive anyone to extreme discomfort. Out on the street next to the bus station entrance and steps was a cart vending noodles with boiled chicken balls.

As usual, this wasn't known until it appeared. There is usually only one thing on offer, so therefore no point in fretting over what you are about to eat. The decision has been made for you. As far as i could tell it was with caramelised garlic, some sort of greens, sesame oil, sugar and msg, of course. And lots of coriander. It agreed with me tremendously. The fella of the lady making the food was sitting with his chums. They invited me over and shared their flask of tea. It was the most astringent thing i have ever experienced. But strangely it didn't matter. It worked as a wake up, better than any coffee ever has done. It was delicious, and a flavour unique to me that can be recalled in a heart beat. Which serves as a way of recalling the entire memory of that time and place. Vision really is the weakest sense for aiding the recall of memories. I guess because your eyes are put through so much, but your other senses mostly have an easy time of it. So for a visually unstimulating situation, it stands to reason that the other more invigorated senses would jump into action.

The bus ride to Xiamen was on a bus with a steamy window. This was annoying. I simply cannot tell you what the scenery was like. So imagine something nice instead.

I didn't linger in Xiamen, instead heading straight to the ferry port in order to board a boat to Gulang Yu. Gulang Yu or Gulangyu is an island just a few hundred metres off Xiamen. It is bustley with Chinese tourists. It is a fabulous place.

After trying 3 sleeping places, a dormitory bed was located. Cheap, clean and lovely and in the most ideal setting, i booked 2 nights and went for a humongous wander. Aside from Matheran in Maharashtra India, this is the only vehicle free place i have visited (excluding centres of ye olde european cities). This alone would be enough to make it lovely, but it really is a marvellous place. Here are my notes, as written as the day went on.

FISH, GREAT SOUVENIRS, COBBLES, BANYAN TREES, WEDDING PHOTOS, TOUR GROUPS, WEIRD FRUIT, SQUID ON A STICK, MSG/MOLUSC OMELETTES, MILK TEA, OVERPRICED COFFEE, NICE BEACHES, STAMPBOOKS, GREAT GRAPHIC DESIGN, AMAZING COLONIAL BUILDINGS, MASSIVE AVIARY, SHODDY SAX PLAYER WHO LOOKED LIKE HE WANTED TO DIE, LUSH SQUARES, ESCAPEY OCTOPUS, MOIST, I MESSAGED PAT.

A few of them are self explanatory.

The wedding photos seem to be out of control in popularity. I asked a young couple what it was all about. They said it was just tradition, a romantic time together to get photographs done, and have a nice day before the actual day. They all were very young.

Young marrieds to be.

There was a LOT of fish on offer. Fish i had never seen before. They all just sat outside restaurants in bowls/tanks and you chose your fish to be eatened.

Note the feline.

I was worried that if i sat down in a restaurant i would accidentally sign up to eat a massive one of those in the middle bottom.

So mostly i ate from street vendors.

Above are the squids on sticks.

Stampbooks refer to why i was so blown away by the place, in general, as a tourist destination. The place is full of wonderfully designed shops. Each unique in their stock and identity. On top of that, each cafe/teahouse/takeaway shack oozes personality without being in your face 'quirky'. Tastefully, tastefully done. One thing these shops sell in common is the stampbook. Beautiful, quality booklets of 60-100 pages. Each page has a photo of a shop/caff, a brief description of it and its history and perhaps a little phrase of some sort. Then there is space to receive a stamp. Each establishment has a place to stamp your book. Not only does this mean nearly every single tourist buys one of these books, but it gives them a purpose whilst exploring the island. Making them visit every nook and cranny, collecting stamps, visiting shops and buying stuff as they go (be it souvenirs, food or whatever) and after it they have a real souvenir. Something that will remind them of the day. Something they will cherish. It is a brilliant bit of organisation amongst independent retailers, or tourist agencies.

One of the little outlets.

A cup of coffee is over £5 on the island. I have no idea why. It's 50p just across in Xiamen.

This is a £5 coffee house with fake St*rb*cks mugs.

Whilst i was sitting having a Tsingtao. Opposite, one of the fish sellers turned his back for a minute. The scarily intelligent octopus that was in a plastic bucket poked his head up, saw his opportunity and tried to leg it. It slithered wriggly down the lane. No one noticed, and i definitely wasn't going to tell the fish vendor. I was rooting for the cephalopod! Alas, as it was about to turn the corner to probable freedom, he was noticed. And was retrieved. Floppily dropped back into its bucket.

Above is the scene of the Great Octopus Escape 2012

Finally. Banyan trees. What amazing beasts they are. They emanate a feeling of wisdom and longevity. They know fine well that they will outlive you. They respect you for sure, for they know what humans are capable of. But they don't mind taking their time. Slowly taking over the world. One tendril at a time. More on Banyan trees later in the trip (totally worth the wait if you like Banyan trees).

Gulangyu is fab. Its a bonkers mix of 19th century colonial buildings from many european nations. In China. Fine fine villas and churches. All higgledy built, up and downy, on top and below, somehow making a coherent 'place'. European architecture now with a modern Chinese twist. The smells and sights, with the always singing sounds of the music school. Sandy beaches, hilly walks, a gargantuan aviary and so many nice foods. Oodles of personality rammed into a square mile. It was mint.

Here's some more pics of just wandering around. More Gulangyu happenings happen on the next day so there will be more pics when the next blog appears. So, see you next time for more THRILLING THINGS. xxx

This is a bald man with some stuff behind him.

Some ladies.

A Square with some stuff happening.

A couple.

ROCKS

Priceless.

Flora

Night Time

Mystery Fruit

Atmosphere

MSG. And noodles.

Goodbye x

Bwona Saira.

2013-08-05T00:39:00.003+01:00

Hello everyone.

We QB 3 have all just returned from a holiday. With our sister, her hubs and kids, our mum and dad and our girlfriends. It was to celebrate the senior Quilliams' anniversary of 30 years. It has been long anticipated (3 years). It was lovely, thank you for asking. One of us got engaged, even. Please raise your tea cup to him when you are next in (he's the one looking all happy, and has glasses). We went to San Gimignano, Lucca, Volterra and many others. God they know how to make an aesthetically pleasing hill top town in those parts. We swam a lot, and ate a lot. We took photos, and brought just enough tea bags to see us through. The pace of life was perfect. The scenery, magical. And as for the company, everyone became again their true selves. As opposed to an exhausted, irritable, preoccupied version of themselves. It was interesting seeing the transition. Eyes surfaced after months submerged deep in ones skull, pasty eczema ridden skin became healthy and golden, waist lines increased, cheeks rosied, moods lifted and conversation about something other than the tea house commenced.

Though, of course, it was on our minds often.

We have only been open for a month and 3 weeks. But before that, we were making the tea house. It was over 5 months of 7 days a week of many hours a day. But that was just the latter part of a 3 year process. It was enjoyable! Installing cinema seats, knowing the joy people will get from sitting in them. White washing walls in the knowledge that original art will soon be hanging there. Scrubbing the living hell out of 100 year old quarry tiles, so they could once again sing. Constructing a beast of a counter from fine oak knowing that that counter will soon house QB staff serving great people a marvellous brew! Finding furniture, designing menus, staining bannisters, staining wood panelling, staining dado, staining every flumming thing and then staining them again, arguing with sparkies, even dealing with the buggering council was enjoyable. Because we knew what would exist after we had finished.

Or, we thought we did.

We opened in a not-particularly-fresh state of body and mind, thinking that the slow pace of the tea house would allow for simultaneous recovery. We were excited and nervous, but adrenaline can only power you so far. Since the day we opened we have been understaffed, and on a steep learning curve. So steep, we think it did a loop da loop at one point (translation: loop the loop). Our feet had taken on a different form. Somehow moulding to a weird shape built for being on the go for 19 hours a day, i suppose. This is not a complaint, nor a pity fishing brag. We made this bed, and we are lying in it with glee and occasional unglee. The tea house is new. It's a new idea, and although its various components can be seen to be extracted from other places (ones we openly admit), the place as a whole is unique, we think. So there is/was no formula. We expected it would take time to find solutions. And i think the majority of you chaps knew it would be chaotic to begin with, understood and forgave accordingly. But we did not bank on there being so many people. We planned a big sinister campaign of persuasion and bribery. Forcing people in the door, giving great quality, friendly, focused service to each and every one, hoping that the experience would be enjoyable enough so they would then return and perhaps tell a few people. We had, in our minds, given the whole summer over to this. As our customer base gradually increased, we would learn when was busy, when we needed staff, how many we would need, what teas sold well, when food was essential, when just a bonus, what cakes people loved, what treats people came back for, which suppliers were good, which were just all talk; basically, we would figure out what worked at the tea house, what didn't, and act accordingly.

BUT

The doors opened on June 1st. We staffed only ourselves for front of house that day, as we didn't want our new staff to see us bugger things up. We coped for a few hours. The chef had been flung into his position and was handling things wonderfully, despite the lack of shelving and utensils. We were opening boxes of plates as we went, as we weren't expecting for them to be used. Cutlery was being unwrapped and washed for its virgin use as orders came in. But we were on top of it. the tea quality was (and always is…) good, and the food looked (and tasted…) nice. We handled the new coffee machine just fine, and were enjoying the encounters with customers as they came in and saw the building alive for the first time in 40 years. But people kept coming. Washing piled up, counter space decreased as the design flaws became evident, food ran out, and control was about to be completely lost. At 3 PM as the horror peaked our aunties (2 of them) and nana (1 of them) arrived. Like that bit in LOTR when a horsebacked Gandalf appears atop the hill, calvary behind him, just as Helms Deep is about to fall completely. Except instead of a formidable wizard, our 3'3" nana and her daughters appeared at the door, and instead of battling orcs, they did the washing up for 4 hours, til their hands wrinkled (we have reason to believe nana already had wrinkles though). Without them, things would have spiralled out of control until we could no longer cope, and something would have exploded probably.

That was all a wonderful and horrifying surprise. But, fatigued and shellshocked, we had made it past 5 o'clock without major major mishap, and were now into the evening. This was completely unchartered territory. 6 pm, still people lingered. Chatting, bringing personality and filling the space that we oh so feared would feel empty, even when full. 7pm, 8pm, the shoppers slowly dispersed, and there came a shift in clientele. Light fell, and here they were. The introverts, the creative, the experimentalists, the eccentric, the curious, the insomniacs. Natter took on a new form, the lights dimmed, chess boards appeared from no where (we didn't supply them) and at 11pm we were in the tea house we imagined. Busy, but intimate. Professional yet relaxed. Friendly. So very friendly. And everyone GOT it. They understood. This is not a bar, you are safe to be whoever you are. You spend so much time in your head fretting that you are imagining something that no one wants, that when you witness people nonchalantly jumping onboard it shocks you.

And there we stood, us three, battered and bruised, behind the very stained fine oak counter, watching everyone. The tea house will always BE the people in it. The things they contribute. Be it their work, their presence, their conversation. The tea and other sellables are mere ancillaries. And that evening the tea house existed for the first time, and we will not forget it.

We have fucked up on many occasions. Orders dropped, reservations overlooked, people accidentally ignored, emails unanswered etc etc. You can see from the few reviews that exist currently that there have been bad days. The day the chef unceremoniously buggered off 2 hours before lunch service and 2 staff called in sick was one of them. And a day from which we are still reeling. It was the day that we received 2 not so excellent critiques on that website that advises on trips. We muddled through though. But muddling always feels like you are letting everyone down. You cannot leave work with your head held high after a day of muddling. You leave knackered, frustrated, embarrassed and upset. We hope that it doesn't happen again. Though it no doubt will. We always, always try to keep our service friendly though. And most importantly, we keep it human. We are humans talking to humans. Something that gets forgotten by both sides, often - customer and waiter. The opportunity of submitting vent ridden internet comment seems to unleash the inhuman in some. But that is a gargantuan monstrosity of a topic, and a one that should be left alone.

We would like to thank everyone who has come during this first fling. We'd like to thank your patience, and understanding as we continue to iron things out. Thank you for your help and advice. Thank you for your kind words of support when you could tell we were running on fumes. Thank you for coming back, and becoming regulars. We love having you all there, and hope you are seeing improvements day by day. Our tea selection will always be improving, we will get on top of suppliers so we don't bloody run out of things. Our staff will get better, and more plentiful, so the tea house will be a more pleasant place to be, even if the sun is making it horrifically hot, and it is busy busy busy. We now have a night manager called Ian (he's lovely - pop in to see him), and are looking for the right people to take the reins when we 3 can't be there, which means we can sleep a little. Which in turn will mean when we ARE there, we have energy and can improve things further. If any of you think you could be a right person, introduce yourself.

The website is being updated with menu and tea listings, cinema hire information and gallery bumf. Our food menu is gunna be more informative as well, promise. Cos it's nice to know where your sausages grew up.

Also, we heard a rumour that some QB official merchandise is on its way…

And that our basement is getting bettered by a cosy factor of 4...

Thanks all so very much once again, sincerely, sincerely.

QB x

HAPPY FEBRUARY and Day 3 China

2013-02-03T15:23:00.000+00:00

Salutations!

Let us tell you about what is going on. The graft is still chugging away. There are people in there RIGHT now putting lovely doors in and installing ducting. If you took all of the ducting out of our new place, and laid it end to end, it would stretch from the tea house to down the road, and back again, TWICE! Ever spent 4 hours trawling through door handles? You have? Oh. The work is supposed to finish on the 19th of Feb. We can then begin installing our counter, fixtures and fittings, bathrooms, kitchen whatnots and completing the decoration. Give us three weeks to a month from the 19th, and that should all be done. So mid March is the current E. TEA. A.

We are getting such delightful emails from people, so please do continue to get in touch if you would like to receive information/invites to the opening ceremony. We will have Beyonce there, singing the star spangled bannister, and possibly U2, playing some utter shite and wearing sunglasses.

It's been emotional, this whole renovation work, but incredibly educational and makes us appreciate/understand the building so much more. Which sounds wanky, but it's true. When you know exactly what is going on behind your 2 layers of plasterboard, it feels like you know the building more than others. Like you have a special tie, just like you have a bond with your lady friend, as you know her secrets, her faults, her imperfections without her clothes/makeup on, and no one else will (hopefully) ever know that. It makes your bond that much stronger. Personifying a building is possible only with a building with history and character. Well i suppose new builds still have a personality, but they would probably all be Alan from the council. Our one is ridiculous in it's personality. I hope it appreciates its new lease of life, and us messing around in it's under regions. As long as you lovely chaps come and have tea with us in it, and fill it with nice conversation and good feelinz, im sure it'll be happy. K I'LL STOP WITTERING, JEEZ.

Look out for our new signs going in on Monday. They are exciting, yup. Think Fenwicks windows, but with a millionth of their budget.

Here's Some More Blog From China

Day 3

Completely forgot that yesterday (in this story) there was another task that was done. And that was train ticket buying. Always a szuper phun rigmarole when in phoreign landz. I naively chose Guangzhou East to do the ticket buying in. India is famous for it's chaotic train ticket buying system, and just crazy crazy stations. This was way worse. It took me completely by surprise, as i expected order, and a lot of it. So after sitting, watching everyone for a while, attempting to get a (loose) grip of what was going on, I boldly went into a queue.

Which took 45 minutes to get short enough for me to get hopeful, then took another 45 minutes for actual service time. It was good though, as it gave me long enough to figure out the relevant words to say/characters to write. This is what i handed to the lady -

- and i threw a hell of a smile her way as well. This made her smile, and all the interested parties surrounding me, watching, with baited breath, smiled as well. EVERYONE SMILED. I didn't know if they were smiles of genuine happiness, anxious nervousness towards the communicative cataclysm that was about to happen, or just them trying to make me feel comfortable before they destroyed me with mock. Which ever, it was nice.

After this frankly DISGUSTING show of a decent humanity, we got right down to business, & booked me some train tickets. There were some sounds coming from both of our mouths, and lots of shapes coming from our hands, and faces. And these shapes and sounds somehow, miraculously, made some train tickets come into my possession. 3 of them. 1 for the locomotive i am about to wake up for (in this story), and 2 for later legs.

So, i am going to wake up (in this story).

I woke up. The legs were so very very sore after 2 nights of sleeping on wood. Mostly the hips, as they stick out, unless you are dead foetusy of shape (NOT A DEAD FOETUS, DEAD AS IN VERY). I totally had 8 bananas in the fridge, but forgot them as i hurriedly drank a pint of milk, ate a pack of excellent chocolate wafer objects, checked out and legged it to a bus that i hoped would sort my location issues out. The bus kind of did, but then it changed it's mind and brmmmed off in an unexpected direction. That was fine, cos i got off and jumped on a metro. I sailed underneath the many many skyscrapers in my air conditioned super slick subterranean ship. Appreciating, still, the excellent hairdos and fashions.

So the destination today was Chaozhou, slightly up the coast from Guangzhou. It was to be a 6 hour ride. Chaozhou is the porcelain capital of the world. A vast percentage of China's (and therefore the world's) porcelain production happens there. I was going to check out our crockery factory, just to see if everything was fine. Plus i wanted to see how it is all manufactured. Like one super detailed, interactive episode of 'How It's Made' (My desert island TV program. But on reflection, perhaps a documentary called 'How To Tune Your Solar Powered TV To Receive More Channels In A Remote Location' would be better. Or Friends).

The ride was lovely. I was fully investigated by most on board. I was in Hard Seat Class, on a T Class train. Not glamourous by any stretch of the imagiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiination. The boarding was incredibly orderly, and showed just how efficiently you can organise masses of people. To be filtered from one waiting room to another, as the boarding time approached, into smaller and smaller ones of these-

- made sense, and worked.

I had a few chats, in my Hard Seat, and near the boiling water dispenser, as i took my noodle pot out of cryogenic status, and watched a lot of niceness pass the window. Here is what it looked like -

And at 14:00 or something, i arrived in Chaozhou. Chaozhou train station was hot. And it wasn't pretty. We got shepherded out of a side gate, as the main station building was locked. Now then. There was a smallish problem. I had not heard from Jenny (NOT HER REAL NAME) since an email a few days earlier asking what train i was getting, and offering to pick me up from the station. Jenny was the rep at the porcelain factory. I had her phone number scribbled in my book. And that was it. So, after rather venomously brushing off eager taxi drivers, i sat down and relaxed a while. It was only early afternoon, so i wasn't worried about life.

The taxi drivers came and sat next to me, and we had some craic (or 歡樂氛圍 as they call it) and shared a tea. It became quite clear after a while that Jenny wasn't coming. So i chatted with a youngster taxi driver who i saw had a mobile phone. He called Jenny. But Jenny didn't answer. He tried for an hour, on n off, but Jenny didn't answer. I still wasn't worried, as i was enjoying all the hilarious miscommunicatory jollies. But then i started looking at my position. No Jenny, no address, no nothing. So i decided that i should just rock on into town and get myself a bed somewhere before having a wander. BUT JUST AS I MADE THIS DECISION JENNY RANG THE KID TAXI DRIVER.

Turns out Jenny was off graft cos her child was really sick. She said sorry a lot and gave the address to the kid who then shuttled me off to the factory.

That was one of those moments when life could have gone a million different ways, had i lost patience sooner, or had i forgotten to scribble her number down or something. Obviously life can always go over a million different ways, but moments like that really make that evident.

THE FACTORY WAS AMAZING as was the approach. The town is just littered with porcelain. The roads are made of scraps of it, there are piles and piles on every available bit of real estate. I even saw a make shift shanty house made of toilet pan seconds. Unbelievable. Then i arrived at the factory. I cannot describe the weirdness. But i will try.

Got out of taxi. Had argument over price. Taxi sped off. Pedestrian access security gates opened. No people. Walked in to compound. No people. Walked to what appeared to be main entrance. Climbed steps to plush, marble-lined, high-ceilinged, echoey foyer building. Nobody at front desk. Piles of broken porcelain indoors ruined the professional, clean look i think they were going for. Indoor water features were off, with festering pools of stagnant grey. No lights were on. Like everyone left in an awful hurry to escape the apocalypse, and ne'er did return. Double glass doors to my far right lead to darkness, and a spiral staircase on the other side ran to a mezzaniney balcony and further floors. I put down my stuff and walk outside again. No people. I walked around the compound, to the security guards office. No people. Had a little laugh. Back to strange massive foyer. Sat down and twiddled my thumbs and again considered my options. A man came out of the double doors…

He sees me & i stand. A strange moment passes between us, as we silently question our positions. I speak first, very britishly and apologetic. His english, though good, is not excellent, but i understand that he doesn't have a damnedest idea who i am or what i want. He is just the loveliest man, and shuffles off to solve the problem. After a further 10 minutes of weirdness, everything is now resolved, as Jenny's secretary comes down, and now there are apologies coming in from all angles. It was a genuine sorry fest. I climb the spiral staircase with them, in to their showroom, meeting with their sales rep chap in the darkness. They have to turn on all of the lights, immediately illuminating shelves and shelves of glimmering chinaware.

And so began an hour of awkward moments as they brought porcelain to me, some nice, some horrible, whilst we supped our never ending cups of tea.

After that was all over and done with, we walked around the factory. Glorious.

Any questions regarding porcelain/chinaware, i will be happy to answer them. I asked every question that ever existed i think.

They kindly arranged for the bosses son to bring me into town to find some accommodation. Not being a tourist town, there weren't many places to choose from, and the options became slimmer every time i stepped into a hotel, as they were mostly full. Through asking receptionists, i eventually came across a hotel which was cheap and moderately cheerful. I had a green tea from a tea bag in my hotel room (absolutely delicious, as if picked from the bush that morning), and then ventured off in to the city on foot. It was now 7 o'clock, about. I needed food. The town is famous for its shark balls. So i had them. Little balls of boiled fish, with noodles and greens. Absolutely delicious and not heavy. I then walked. And walked. This is what i did see

I bought some stationary, sat in a tea house and wrote a letter till quite late. Then made my way to the hotel, and enjoyed the mattress. As i hadn't been on one for a few days.

THAT'S ALL, STAY TUNED FOR DAY 4 COMING SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE x

CHINA DAY 2

2012-11-19T22:48:00.002+00:00

Hi Blogatrons.

I hope you have seen our signs in Newcastle above our new hot joint. CLUE- near the Hancock Museum/Civic Centre.

Work is progressing. All the big construction has been completed. And we are installing kitchen items this week. Basement graft has still got a long way to go, but that's ok.

We have begun the xmas tea happenings (packing gift packs, and getting the xmas blends sorted, and having the usual arguments about ribbon). I cant believe we're talking about christmas. Sorry. We wont advertise that sort of stuff til later, dont worry. Just letting you know whats going on.

(BUY OUR CHRISTMAS SHIT!!!!!)

Also we picked up some lights from London. Which was a ridiculous mission, but a fun one. They are for our gallery space. FOR TO ILLUMINATE WORKS OF ART.

The windows are being installed at a leisurely pace. As soon as they are installed, things start to become VERY interesting. The building hasnt had natural light for 20 years. So it's like it can breath again. Like a chlorophyl starved seedling, suddenly flung into the sunshine. It will grow and blossom into the beautiful flower it had the potential to be. Unless its a slimey snotwort (gloopius bogiarum).

We love you all, and please do look at Everything Everything's new song.

Day 2.

There were 2 things to achieve in Guangzhou. Anything else would be excellent but not necessary. Number one was to look at some crockery, and possibly buy it. Number two was to taste some tea, and possibly buy it.

Waking pretty (but not obscenely) early, the journey took me once again along the river bank, through the university grounds, to the nearest metro station. This is what i did see -

Hostel view

Hostel view no. 2

These chaps were kite flying men. They had special leather pads on their thighs to allow for speedy reeling in of kite. It made a crack noise when they did it, and the kite fluttered fast. Exciting it was.

These ladies were just having a sing song together.

These lads were having a good old fish using ye olde techniques

This lad was dead happy, and maybe a little simple, but very nice.

Regarding the kite chaps and the singing ladies. There were SO MANY groups of people doing things together outside. It was amazing. People dancing, exercising, badmintoning, creche groups, biddy chatting groups, mahjong groups, all outside, all together. That is so very very different from here in the UK. Can you imagine meeting on Newcastle quayside to have a sing of some Abba hits together? It was eye opening, and lovely to see. I felt happy around all the group activity.

I then jumped on metro 8 and rode it to Pazhou.

Some notes on metros/public transport.

For a public transport system to be BRILL, you need congruency through all modes of transport (including bicycles), and prices need to be low. Take, for example, the Prague metro system. For 1ish euro you can have 90 minutes of travel. BUT ON TOP OF THAT YOU CAN CHANGE TO ANY BUS, TRAM, LOCAL TRAIN ETC, included in the ticket. Thats enough to get to the shops, buy your purchase and ride home again. Now, say you have to take a not very far metro trip in Newcastle, followed by a bus. That will cost you around £4, 1 way. That's obscene. There aren't enough naughty words in the world to describe with any accuracy how frustrating the Newcastle Metro is. Obviously the cost of living is less in the Czech Rep, but those prices are not relative.

ALSO up until a short while ago, in Budapest, a ticket would cost £1. If you wanted to change metros, you would need a new ticket. So, say you wanted to travel ONE stop on one metro, then change to travel a few more. You would need 2 tickets (or a more expensive transfer ticket). Which is just bloody stupid, money grabbing, idiocy. They used this system to nab trusting tourists as well. Fine them. Fine them good. But i like the BP transport system, despite the silly prices, and vulturine ticket inspectors. Mostly because they have trams. And trams are excellent. They have gorgeous 1960's squeaky trams, that trundle and teeter. And they also have Supa Modern A/C trams (the longest single carriage trams in the world FYI FYI), all working harmoniously with a pretty well run metro line, and crappy old buses, that i also love. This man also enjoys a good public transport.

The Guangzhou metro is a sanitary, clinical affair. I was comparing it to the London Tube whilst riding it. What is preferable - this super efficient, air conditioned, characterless, affordable dream of a metro system, or the marvellously eccentric n QuiRkY, occasionally dependable, joyful London Tubular Chap? London wins. Despite me not wanting it to. Please do spend some time on this website. It gives many reasons why the London Tube is mint.

Popping my head up from my nice cool subterranean lair, i immediately ran to a cool beverage retailer and tipped a bottle of coke over my head. On reflection, drinking it would have been advisable. I had this address - Room 2008, North Tower. It was fun finding it.

Guangzhou is home to the Canton Trade Fair. A bi annual trade meeting of nearly 200000 people, held on 1125000 m2 of exhibition space. ITS MASSIVE. Its mostly held where i was, in huge purpose built exhibition buildings. Like this-

When it's not on, the river Island on which it is held is kinda quiet and ghost towny. Just sod loads of GIMONGOUS buildings with nowt in em. North tower is the office block attached to one of the exhibition buildings. It was very very quiet, and i went to the 20th floor. No one about. I wandered to the bottom of the empty corridor, with empty offices. No one about. I did a little break dance because the floor was dead polished, and i was lonely and scared and thought it might attract at least SOMEONE from SOMEWHERE. It didn't.

So i wandered some more, and finally found an office with someone in. I knocked and they looked surprised. AND IN I WENT….

Inside was a plethora of porcelain, a cornucopia of crockery, an excess of earthenware not to mention a whole abundance of affected alliteration.

It was quite the spectacle. And so hours were whiled away inspecting cups and saucers, talking about the fabrication of new bone china, the variation in the clink of cup on saucer, the possibilities of customisation and simply everything i could think of in regards to porcelain. It was DEAD INTERESTING, and a cup of excellence was found (or the components of).

They took a long hard look at our cup design, and told us it was all possible, and that a sample could be fabricated in 10 days!!!! (this was 6 months ago, and we are still waiting….)

So there we go.

Number one mission for Guangzhou was complete.

It was just after midday, so had the rest of the day to buy tea. Guangzhou has one of the worlds largest tea markets. Near Fangcun metro station. So that was where i headed. Understandably.

I stopped for lunch and had an amazing bowl of pork chop noodles (i think) and had a maple syrup bubble tea (im going to talk to y'all about bubble tea soon, don't worry. ITS GOOD)

I had a lull in NRG, so sat down on a park bench and fell asleep. It was nice. Then I wandered and got dead lost. But it was fine. I saw some nice things. And ate some more nice things also. Past dim sum shops, and so many iphone accessory retailers, and strange fashion dogs, and NO LITTER ANYWHERE and loads of parks that looked lovely.

Eventually the tea Mecca was located. And in i wandered. There was NO ONE THERE, bar the proprietors, so i got a lot of attention. Eventually i settled on a chap who had a VERY nice looking bunch of wild Fuding White, and some gorgeous Huang Cha.

And so began 6 hours of filling my bladder with liquid, then emptying it, and repeat.

TEA PEOPLE

Some of the liquid was absolutely phenomenal. Taste sensations, LET ME TELL YOU!!!!!OMG The yellow tea rocked my world, and i experienced some Fujian Oolongs that would give Eeyore a Gregg Wallace Grin.

I also nibbled on the mans green tea pumpkin seeds that he had made and was very proud of. I loved them at the time. But now i have them here, they aren't so delish (he gave me very many to take home). I ordered about 10 kg of tea, to be collected upon return to Guangzhou at the end of the trip, and then made my way back to the hostel.

It was evening. This is what i did see -

This was an evening entertainment strip, with fairground games and stalls selling plastic shit that usually went 'weeeeee' or 'bzzzzzzdiiiiiingkerblink' and flashed blue and red.

This was on a boat across the river.

This was at a fish market. There were many bags of mysterious wriggling writhing things, and animals that i just have no idea what they were. It was bustling.

This was a snail as big as my fist.

This was a whistly chap, on the beautiful Shamian Island.

I then got tired and jumped on an electric scooter taxi. My hair got ruffled, and i got a little too up close and personal with the driver. It felt invigorating and lush (the drive, not his body between my groin). I also nearly lost my shins quite a few times by him driving too close to hard objects. We got lost, but we had fun together, communicating with noises. Laughing as one. I wondered if i squeezed his nipple from behind i could get away with him thinking it just a weird cultural difference thing.

Then i got in, fatigued, did an email, then did a big achey sleep on the pointless mattress.

GOOD NIGHT LADZ N LASSES xxx

This blog has been sponsored by the word chap and a massive snail.

NEWS and CHINA DAY 1

2012-10-26T18:08:00.000+01:00

Bloggens!

How the divil are you? We've just had another fantastic day at Shipley Art Gallery, distributing tea and cake to some of the nicest chaps and chapesses you could ever wish to meet. I just wish we were opening somewhere that we could do that on a daily basis. OH WAIT, WE ARE! We have been for 3 years now. 3 YEARS. We were just re doing our business plan, which we hope will convince the bank to give us absolutely loads of money, and we had to write that we had been working on our property for 31 months. It felt horrible. 31 months. Oh what can be achieved in that amount of time. You could watch 22320 episodes of Downton Abbey (44640 episodes of Friends) if you didn't want to sleep/urinate/make your dinner. Even if you did want to do that stuff, you could still squeeze in 15000 Downtons, or 30000 Friends. I would probably bore of that much costume drama, but NEVER would i get sick of that Ross and quippy Chandler and his quips, and Joey. Let's face it, we've all probably seen that many episodes anyhoo.

Alternatively you could get a degree in most things in that amount of time. We could have been super intelligent (and skint) but we decided to be tea house men (and skint).

Sometimes it gets a little tiring, all this ridiculous nothing happeningness. But our enthusiasm is still there. And all will be excellent.

We have started the 3 month renovation works on the building. It's dead old, the building. Not only has it been around for these 3 years, it had over 100 more years standing before we even were born!!! That makes a LOAD of years. Buildings that are a bit old always are hard to fix. This one is NO EXCEPTION. It's got rotten beams, and all sorts of building regs issues. And a chimney full o' soot. It's also listed, so everything takes forever and costs forever, as they say. It's also got no windows. And it is over 4 metres high, with 20 metres of window length. Which totals over £SHITLOTS on just the windows. Just the windows.

But it's really nice, so it's all worth it. We hope you like it too.

We are beginning the opening invites. We are having 2 opening events. One for press and official people. One for friends n family n lovely supporters of us. Also we might have a new years bash. Will let you know. Anyone that wants to come to the opening events and feels like they havent made themselves known enough, just send us an email, and we will send you the relevant documentation when the time comes.

The food menu is looking exciting. The tea menu is, of course, excellent. And our other beverages could thrill the hind legs off a donkey. If thrilling did that sort of thing.

Today they knocked 2 massive holes in some walls, which was excellent. Destruction is dead good fun. We wish we were allowed to do it ourselves, but apparently you have to have qualifications, and certificates. And a hard hat.

Tea is excellent.

Coinciding with the opening will be the all new shpongly website, some new teas, and possibly a nervous breakdown or 3.

We are really loving the feeling in Newcastle at the moment. Loads of quality independent establishments, and wonderful support for such operations. Can't wait to be well and truly involved.

HERE'S SOME CHINA TRIP BLOG BUBYE NOW XXX -

DAY 1

I got on the plane, and travelled in the air. I then got off the plane, and travelled on the ground, in HO CHI MINH. Then i got on the plane again, and travelled in the air again, until i got off in CHINA. In GUANGZHOU. During the air travel, there were lots of people that did annoying things. Like the fat fatty man who during the designated sleeping time ordered a sandwich and a beer every half an hour. He kept looking at his watch to see if 30 minutes had passed. That must have been some sort of self regulation system he had devised, because he knew if he didn't give himself strict rules, he would probably just eat every sandwich on the plane. All of the sandwiches. Anyway, this string ordering kept disrupting me. And i wanted him to stop it. He snored as well. And belched always. And was just a hulk of waste. He said he was travelling to southern china for work, and told me how much he hated being there, how he spent all of his time in Irish bars and KFC, and never travelled outside his expat compound. I got his phone number, and now we are bezzies.

Then there was rudey snob lady, who demanded a wine before we took off, and was deeeeply offended when that wasn't possible. She didn't say please or thanks once, and had a look on her face like she was being forced to watch Mick Hucknall and Janet Street Porter having a dirty romp -

(I now have that look on my face, and hope that you do too).

No wonder air hostesses end up hating all humans, with people like her making their life generally unpleasant. It's just unnecessary, and actually quite cruel. I think i tried to over compensate for her impoliteness, and it probably made the hostesses feel uneasy the way i shouted 'THANKYOU EVER SO MUCH' every time they walked past.

Guangzhou airport is super well run and dead nice. It was thrilling to be there. Completely.
I spent 5 Yuan (50 british pence) on a metro ticket to zoom me into the centre. You get a little plastic token which you scan against the entry gate, and you pop it into a slot on exiting. So no messy tickets or anything. And blimey it's well organised. Wonderfully air conditioned, and well sign posted, speedy. They are numbered, the metro lines, from 1-8. I got on the number 2. Then changed to 3. First thing i noticed was the excellent array of haircuts, and fashions. When getting on an airport metro, you are amongst many a foreigner, so you are by no means a point of interest. But as the metro progresses, and people get on/off, your dilution gradually lessens. By the time I hit town, about 25 minutes, I felt the stares beginning. Guangzhou isn't a touristy place, really. Many people travel through it, as you often cannot avoid it. But it is not a destination city. So, we funny foreigners get a fair bit of eye attention. That's ok.

I emerged from the cool metro land, giddy with excite, into the sweltering, muggy, heavy air.

This feeling is amazing.

This is what i did see, initially -

This was on the leisurely stroll to my hostel along this route -

View Larger Map

It should take an hour. But it took 2 hours. What with all the sitting and watching and sweating.

It felt amazing, AND OMG EXCITING AND THRILLING to be there. I simply couldn't wait to get stuck into tea stuff.

I enjoyed the hunt for the hostel. It was exactly how i love hostels to be - in someone's flat, laid back, not corporate in any way and with a nice wrinkly man to check me in. It was my first proper communication with an actual real life chinaman. And i enjoyed it terribly. I love communication. I'm a rubbish english socialiser, as i fear sounding like a div too much. So when we both know we are going to sound like divs to each other, i relax much more, and just have fun. WOOOP.

Here is the view from the hostel -

That eve a rendezvous with a mate (who was born at the same moment i was being born, in the room next to me, interestingly enough) was on the cards. A call was made from the lovely wrinkly mans phone. And we arranged to meet at a metro station. I washed, pointlessly, the current sweatiness away, before i got sweaty putting a t shirt on. I sat and drank 12 litres of water and a litre of iced green tea (v v v v popular) and ventured out again.

Unfortunately, the activities of that evening cannot be shared. Not because they are rude or anything, but because i am embarrassed at the choice of activity (not made by me).

But here is what i saw on the way home - It was a 3 hour walk at midnight, and oh so oh so amazing.

These chaps are playing hacky sack. Together. Adults. Happy. At 1 am. This is amazing. A HUGE cultural difference.

So many people were out, playing games. Chatting. Dancing.

At 1.30 oclock, i saw an illuminated sign saying tea. So i followed it, like an excitable moth with my ganglionic instincts. Inside was a lovely man. We had lots of tea together, and discussed Man City. Now, sport isn't something i know a lot about. But, i think i pulled it off. (Man City ARE a good rugby team aren't they?) This is the man -

We shared some incredible Pu Erhs, and a fine fine high grade jade tie guan yen oolong.

This was my first encounter with the chinese tea drinking ritual. And he was happy to answer my many questions. I couldn't have happened across a more lovely man to take my chinese tea drinking virginity. I will never forget him. When i forgot to discard the first infusion, he said 'It doesn't matter, it happens to everyone, we will try again when you are ready.'

I was starting to feel very happy to be there, all concerns had dissipated, and as soon as you relax when travelling, the enjoyment grows exponentially, and you can feel the joy going off in bursts the more you think about it.

And so i slept on the hardest mattress that could ever exist, with different parts of my body going numb at different times during the night. But i didn't care. In the slightest.

2012-06-18T00:10:00.000+01:00

Yes. Hello.

So. The brother that went, has unwented. The brothers that didn't went, have been grafting very hard, to compensate for the wenting brother -

We have a nice little (actually quite big) article in Appetite Magazine this month, distributed amongst delis and cafes and other places where one goes to sate appetites. If you find a copy, then read it. It's nice; a lovely first spread. Hopefully the first of many, because we are going to be media whores. Classy media whores. Ones that have to be wined and dined first, and have to have a certificate to prove that there are no diseases.

Our work with the farm is going very well. So well that our pigs are going to be housed as from the end of this monthish. And until they are ready to be slaughtered and consumed, the farm has many a rare breed that we can sample and use in the tea house. They are simply delightful people, and we will tell you all about them, and what they do, when we are ready, and they say we can.

We have 2 hives all made n that, and we are waiting for our local lovely bee keeper to have surplus bees. Rather annoyingly, for the first time in 12 years we had a wild swarm visit our house. They ignored our hives, and decided that a hole in the wall would suit them better. So we now have a colony living in our wall. They give off a low hum. We like them. But are a little bitter.

The blogging of CHINA TRIP Y2K12. First, here it is in numbers-

Days in China - 19
Kinds of tea tried - 47
Kilometres travelled in China - 4394
Bowls of noodles - 27
Times a disgrace was made of myself - Hard to say. Many.
Kilos of MSG consumed - 12.5
Kilos of tea purchased - 12
Tea cups ordered - 2000
Times I knew exactly what was being eaten - 2

Day 0 Newcastle - London

Tea Experience of the day - My morning cup of Quilliam Brothers Breakfast Blend of course!!!

With a good friend a meal was had. And then we saw the loveable Dara O'Briain at the city hall. We laughed, and the fact that i was leaving to China left my head. We went to Weatherspoons and had 2 jagerbombs for a fiver, and the fact that i was leaving to China left my head a little bit more. We parted ways and then i got on the Megabus. It was multi racial, and quite pleasant. I woke up in London, then got a 'tube' to somewhere, where i got an Easybus to an airport. Then i got on a plane.

I like leaving England. It always fills me with much joy. Though Newcastle is frustratingly crap at having flights to anywhere other than Benidorm and Scallios, the added nuisance of getting to another UK city makes the travel a little bit more like travel. It makes you appreciate the distance a little bit more. Makes the journey that little bit more epic. I like the infamous midnight Newcastle - London Megabus. Sailing through the muted orange glow of a drizzly Northern England, head tilted window-wards, ears plugged with music, safe in the knowledge that you are ON YOUR WAY, makes me buzzy with excite. I like waking intermittently, as the sleeping head lollops, taking stock, seeing the silhouettes of wizened humans, sleeping how they never were meant, remembering where you are, before nodding off again, warmed and comforted by the motion of the coach. I like it. Even if bits of the body ache and you sit next to the pungently offensive.

And then, we stopped at Woolley Edge.

And then, the sun began to rise. The dull orange of the North replaced with an exciting new orange, glowing over green green rolling hills and crap suburbs.

And then, London Victoria.

It was then that i realised i had forgotten my Oyster card! I was livid, and considered leaving the flipping capital there and then! But, after angrily bashing my shoulders into many commuters full of hurry, i felt the anger depart, and i soldiered on. A trooper to the end.

Not really; i just paid full price, and that was absolutely fine.

Easybus service was excellent. Lovely enthusiastic bus driver, and bang on schedule. Who would win in a busfight? Mega or Easy? Easy - nimble and efficient. Mega - lumbering and determined.

I had pre ordered my Renminbi for collection at Heathwick, and the woman serving was just so delightful in her confabulation. The sort of playful but intense enquiry into your trip that seems completely sincere. Like she gleans vicarious pleasure from the description of your upcoming travel. I hope she does, and every day visits the world from behind her desk.

Also my check in fella was great. From SriLanka, he visits South China often, and he suggested a few places to visit upon arrival whilst simultaneously skiving from checking in the next 4 people in line. I didn't look round to see their grumpy faces.

Then i got on the plane. Though not immediately. I obediently perused the goods on offer at the departure lounge, did some rubiks cube graft, and then fell asleep to this, before waking for boarding. Disoriented. AND READY FOR SOME KILLER PLANE MOVIES!

NO PHOTOS THIS TIME AS THEY WOULD ALL HAVE BEEN BORING.

xxx

Recent News. GOD THAT'S EXCITING.

2012-04-26T17:15:00.000+01:00

Dear Bloggens.

Salutations!

I hope this finds you in good health.

Here at QBHQ a whole host of activities have been on the go.

Let us first tell you of our new chef chap. He is a fabulous bloke of a similar mindset that is working with us to create a menu. This menu promises to be dead exciting and like nothing you probably would have experienced elsewhere. But not so scary that you wouldn't want to eat anything. Beautiful presentation meets filling, rustic choices, probably with a slight twist. Not a jus in sight. Or if there is, we will not call it a jus. We have been meeting now for a few months, having many chats and cook offs. And we are getting to the point of positive decision making. If you have any particular requests, now is the time to speak up.

Not only are our menu choices going to be delish, we are also striving to run a kitchen with minimal waste. We will only be using suppliers that give the bare minimum of packaging. We will be using suppliers that are as local as possible, to cut down on fuel usage. We will be recycling everything we possibly can. We will be pushing seasonal crops in our tri annual menu and our specials choices. And also using the best in foraged goods.

On top of this, we have put thought into other sides of our supplies. We have begun a herb/veg and salad farm that will be operating in Wylam, at an old farm. This will hopefully begin by supplementing our veg/salads/herbs, but will gently start becoming the supply for a lot of our needs.

We have begun bee keeping. Having attended meetings with the beekeepers associations of Northumberland and Newcastle, we took the plunge and purchased 2 hives. After much deciphering of instructions, we managed to erect them, with only minor defects. Defects that we hope the bees wont mind about. A spot on the aforementioned farm in Wylam was found, and we will be getting bees in a month or so. So that's honey enough for all the teahousey needs. Here one is freshly oiled and ready to go -

Also, we have had chats with local farms with the view to keeping 3 special pigs on their land. These pigs are a rare extra delicious breed and will provide you with amazing meaty what nots in just over a year, and you can be safe in the knowledge that it was a happy pig.

This all enables us to close more loops with our refuse. Most of our vegetable waste can go to the pigs (if we show H & S that we are not contaminating it with meat), and other green waste (and all our tea/coffee remnants) can go to our big compost unit on the Wylam Farm that will then compost our herbs/veg/flowers which will then provide pollen for our bees. How glorious. There are other routes to take, for example including the pig manure in our compost. But that is a more complicated procedure, and will require some ironing out. Bear with us.

So this is all nice. I hope the good nature of it all doesn't offend you. We will not ram it down the customers throat. Just if asked, we will tell.

We have also been working on the tea house fit out. This requires special engineering skills, and as none of us have a clue, it is slow progress. Albeit interesting. There will be moving parts. That's all imagunnasay. Oh, and brass. That is DEFINITELY all imagunnasay.

We are on for a September opening time. When invites are sent out, you will be the first to know.

Recently we started working with a Sri Lankan tea company. Our first batch of their ace teas will be arriving in a month or so, so we look forward to that. Expect many annoying tweets/status updates about it all.

We also are restocking our glorious Darjeeling first flush teas, and are expecting their arrival in the next coupla weeks.

To keep our tea knowledge expanding, one Brother has managed to squeeze in a trip!-

Here is the rough route that will be taken-

View Larger Map

There are numerous goals for the trip.

1. Meet with crockery makers and get 1500 custom tea cups and saucers made, and 300 tea pots.

2. Meet with tea companies in Hunnan and Fujian provinces and taste their offerings.

3. Get to know the Chinese tea drinking culture first hand.

4. Spend some time on tea estates, discovering the differences in production from others we have seen.

5. Buy some fake Nikes.

6. Eat a weird something.

7. See some beautiful things (of which there are many).

8. Travel on many trains.

We are dead excited about the crockery. When does anyone get an opportunity to design a tea cup???!?!?!!?!!!1 We hope you like them when they are unveiled at the opening.

We don't take these opportunities for granted, and cannot wait to share everything we learn with anyone who cares to listen. Expect a heavy influx of incredible chinese teas in mid June.

So, we think that is most of the news. There is more, but it's quite, quite dull.

Wishing you all well,

Sincerely.

THE QUILLIAM BROTHERS.

Christmas Is The Greatest Time Of Year

2011-12-22T17:19:00.004+00:00

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

2011-12-14T23:06:00.005+00:00

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.

2011-03-15T15:34:00.004+00:00

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

2011-03-13T15:19:00.015+00:00

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!

2011-02-27T23:20:00.013+00:00

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

2011-02-14T13:25:00.011+00:00

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?

2011-01-31T14:14:00.006+00:00

'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