Hey there friendly faces. I see that hungry look in your eyes, that slight twitch of the left corner of your lip. Where’s my tea?
It’s coming. We’ve been working. What a time we had in Yunnan for the autumn tea season. Every day starts to blur into the next; wake up in a haze, tea on the mind. Tea all day. It becomes automatic. Put the cup to your lips. Drink. Analyze.
All of a sudden the sun has set and you need to eat. What a pain, to have to eat. It holds you back. Wouldn’t it be great if you didn’t need to consume food, or to sleep. It would leave so much more time for tea. Tea is all. Tea dissolves everything.
You drink so much tea that you’re starting to go a little bit crazy. But crazy is good. Crazy gets the good stuff. There’s no other choice; you must drink ALL the tea. Drink until you find the ones that stick out.
No sample left untouched. What if that bag of leaves, that looks the same as every other bag, holds some secret flavour you have yet to experience? You’ve already drunk way too much tea, high out of your mind on some muddy mix of caffeine and the chaqi of twenty different teas. You’re not even in control of your limbs anymore as they reach haphazardly to the bag. Empty it into the gaiwan. Boil the water. Drink the tea.
It goes without saying sleep doesn’t come so easy on this kind of rocket fuel diet every day. Your few fitful dreams are full of weird memories, warped by whatever biologically potent compounds are coursing through your poor cardiovascular system. Anyone who tells you tea is a harmless little plant is wrong.
Fruit turns out to be the hidden saviour. The antidote for the almost time-suspended state you find yourself in, unable to do anything but sit and stare glaze-eyed at the kettle while you boil it for the millionth time. A bite into a sugary peach or pear or pomelo is like an injection that reverses your anaesthesia, slowly returning you to the hotel room and reality.
Just when you think you have done it all, and might have some respite. You get a call. More samples, freshly processed, right to your door. You take a deep breath. Some of them are time sensitive—if you don’t try and buy in the next 12 hours, someone else will.
And the cycle repeats.
This is buying tea.
Keep an eye on the store — our teas are on the way. They are a real labour of love. We hope you like them.