From the Shire Highlands of Malawi, across the foothills of theHimalayas, to hidden gardens of the Wuyi Shan, China, I make my wayacross the world, hunting for the most extraordinary tea, the leaves ofCamellia sinensis. Beyond tea, I seek out rare herbs and flowers, fromthe pale Marcona almond blossom in Spain to rust-red rooibos of thesemi-arid deserts of the South African Cederberg.I never stop searching. In 2004 I started a small, independent teabusiness based in London, Rare Tea Company, to share my discoveries.Over the years I''ve fallen in love so many times, with so many teas. I''mfickle but resolutely loyal. I never un-love. I''m not sure how that''s done.
Once I have given my heart to something, or someone, I can''t undo it,so I keep going back, and ever onwards.When I''m not visiting farmers and gardens, my travels take me tomy customers. This has led me to some of the best restaurants, pastsmooth tablecloths and the cool of dining rooms, into the heat andclamour of the kitchens, and to the most fascinating chefs in the world.Tea has introduced me to builders, tattoo artists, teachers, actors, athletes, perfumers, hoteliers, sommeliers, baristas, fishermen, pilots andbartenders. They have become friends and collaborators. My life has infused-- xiv --become consumed by the finding and blending and sharing of themost delicious things I can find to infuse. Rather aptly, it''s got me intoa fair amount of hot water along the way.This is the story of my adventures in tea.
I hope to seduce you, alittle, into a love of loose leaves. It''s a highly personal, partisan accountrather than an objective treatise on tea in general. It''s my story of tea,not the story of tea. I want to tell you about the really good stuff thatfuels me, and the places it takes me. There is so much I long to share,you could think of this book as an unburdening of my loves.It might sound intimidating to venture off completely alone in anunknown country, not speaking a word of the language. But after theinitial testing of your newborn giraffe legs, it can be the opposite. It''scomplete freedom.
No one knows you. You know nothing. Nothing isexpected of you. Anything could happen.I have made a life for myself that necessitates embarking on adventures. I can''t be sure if this desire catalysed my tea love, but it certainlyenables it. The question I''m most often asked is how it happened, howI became the Tea Lady. People really do call me that: it''s what I doand who I am.
I''ve been pursuing tea for so long now, I have almostforgotten any other life or where the Tea Lady starts and I stop. Thereis still so much more out there to learn and discover. I''ve just begun,though time spools behind me, untidily. Turning a corner in my mind,it''s often a shock to find how deeply I''ve ventured in, the path I''ve takenlost in a tangle of leaves.Before tea I was working for a large multinational corporation,producing financial documentation. I know - it sounds fascinating,doesn''t it? Shareholder reports, IPO prospectuses and merger agreements aren''t great topics for conversations over dinner. I had plans todo something else, something I could be proud of, maybe start a teacompany, but later. Then my father got cancer.
He was sixty-five; hehad plans. preface-- xv --He died within three months of being diagnosed. I returned hometo London from a life in New York and spent my time in the hospital with him, often curled up on the end of his bed. I laid my headdown and he stroked my hair. The cancer spread rapidly to his brain.We reversed roles and I sat beside his bed and stroked his hair. Itsnowed big, fluffy, cinematic flakes over the Royal Marsden Hospitalthe afternoon he took his last, rasping breath. I decided not to goback to corporate life, not to delay any longer before plunging intothe world of tea.
When I got cancer myself, two years later, just as I was starting RareTea Company, it certainly disabused me of the notion that I had timeto waste.I had gleaned a great deal from my years in the corporate world.My job had taken me across the world. I knew how to get things done,and the kind of business I didn''t want to be in. I didn''t subscribe tocronyism, old boys'' clubs or the tacit understanding that ethics comesecond to share value. I wanted to get involved in something thatactually meant something to people''s lives. I couldn''t just sit passivelyin the dress circle any longer, looking down at the action on the stage.I set out to work directly with farmers, to travel to their homes, tounderstand their lives, to support them where I could; to move fromgrey corridors and windowless rooms full of paper to a vivid life oftwisting mountain roads, emerald green gardens and cerulean skies.
Conventional wisdom would have had me buy tea from a broker, stick it in a teabag, get some nice packaging and focus on the PRand marketing. But where would have been the adventure in that? Ihad fallen for a lovely leaf, not any old bag. Finding the best farmsmyself, and working on a direct-trade model, pitched me into the complexities of global shipping without the support of a buying team or atransportation department - without anyone, at the start. New routesto market had to be created at both ends, from supplier to customer. infused-- xvi --Back in 2004, few people in Britain were familiar with loose-leaf tea.My adventures were certainly not founded on the cold hard stare ofcommon sense.