The first Darjeeling flush is delayed for the third consecutive year. This time, the tea plantations suffer from drought: it hasn’t rained in Darjeeling since October 10th, 2009. Surprisingly, the sky is covered with clouds, the Kanchenjunga cannot even be seen. In the few irrigated plantations, the chill prevents the tea leaves from growing. Temperatures are still very low at night and I sleep with a hot-water bottle at the Planters Club!
So far, most of the tea gardens have only had one harvest (DJ1). Normally, they should have harvested enough tea leaves to make around ten lots (DJ10).
The first lot of Darjeeling harvest at North Tukvar has a floral bouquet of much greater quality than other plantations, even the best ones like Puttabong and Singbulli. I didn’t hesitate to buy this tea which is to arrive in Paris this week-end. It’s a clonal mixture of various cultivars. I don’t usually buy tea at the beginning of the harvest, but if it doesn’t rain in the next coming ten days, the amount available will be scarce.
This year, it might be is very small in comparison with previous years. It doesn’t seem to particularly worry the responsible of Puttabong and North Tukvar, Mr Somani (on the photo), who told me with his Indian-like fatalism: “If there’s a storm tea will grow very fast, only gods know…”.
These days, when everything has to be fast, modernisation has also affected the little Darjeeling train. For one of the daily services, the steam train lets out a big sigh and takes a break to make way for a diesel engine, as we can see here. So this is a bit of progress to be avoided, unless the journey itself is not your aim and all that matters is to get there quickly.
These tea pluckers at the Longview Tea Estate (India) are laughing because I’ve brought them some photos I took of them several years earlier in the tea plantations. I like this way of connecting with people. I like going back to places I’ve been before, seeking out the same faces, giving them the photos I took. And then sitting down to enjoy them together.
We can make these kinds of connections on my blog, too. Do comment if you feel like it, tell me what you’ve enjoyed, or what you don’t like. Send me a few words from time to time, make yourselves known, it will give me a sense that you are there, that you are part of the journey!
I like taking things slowly. I appreciate anything that takes its time. So you won’t be surprised to hear that my favourite train is one of the slowest in the world, perhaps the last steam train in operation in India. It is nicknamed the Toy Train and it runs between Jalpaiguri and Darjeeling, a distance of 80 km which takes it… 8 hours! It needs all its puff to climb 2,088 metres.
On the tea plantations in India, there is a system for looking after the babies and infants. The babies are placed in hanging cribs while their mothers pluck the tea leaves in the fields. There is no roof, just a canopy. The mothers take turns to look after the little ones, rocking them while they sing lullabies. As you walk around the tea plantations you often hear their gentle singing.
Sometimes you don’t even need a seed to produce a tea plant, in fact it’s very common not to. Instead, you take cuttings from a carefully chosen parent plant. You remove one tea leaf together with a few centimetres of the shoot, and plant the whole thing in compost. The roots then form and the shoot grows into a mature tea plant. The covered area where these young shoots grow is called a nursery. Photo taken in Darjeeling, India.
The tea plant doesn’t like a very dry climate or very strong sunshine. That’s why you often find tea growing in misty landscapes. In a few minutes the weather changes, the hilltops disappear, the outlines of the trees become blurred, the temperature drops and you find yourself in the middle of a cloud, like here in Thiashola, a magnificent tea plantation in southern India.
Flowers and seeds are all very well, but they’re not enough to make tea, which requires delicate care, patience, observation and constant attention. It’s a bit like love. And a bit like a blog: it needs looking after every day, smiling at, taking pleasure in giving one’s time. Indeed, here are some tea pluckers in conversation with their tea plants. They live just a few hundred metres away, and know every corner of the plot by heart. They know each tea plant, its strengths and weaknesses. They are concentrating hard and don’t allow themselves to be distracted by the photographer. Photo taken in the indian tea plantation of Puttabong in Darjeeling (India).
How could I have showed you the seed of the tea plant and not talked about the tea flower? So here it is, and if you’re thinking that it looks like a camellia, then you’re right, because the tea plant is a member of the large camellia family.
In the tea plantations you see very few flowers. Because the young shoots are picked throughout the year, the tea plant is prevented from flowering, it is frustrated, you could say. The tea plant puts all its energy into growing leaves, so if you see a tea plant covered in flowers it’s not a good sign: it means the plantation is a bit neglected and the harvesting isn’t done regularly, or else it means that the tea plant is old, because a mass of flowers is a sign of degeneration. This pretty little tea flower I wanted to show you was found at the Happy Valley tea plantation not far from the city of Darjeeling in India. It doesn’t have much of a scent, it’s just pretty to look at, especially because its bloom fades quickly.
The seed of a tea plant, the seed of a blog. The start of a blog is like a birth. It is like sowing a small seed, giving it time to germinate, then watching it emerge and grow until finally it becomes a mature plant. Something that links you to others by sharing a part of life, of love. So to begin my blog, I have chosen a photo of a seed. The seed of a tea plant, of course. I can’t remember exactly where I took this photo, but it doesn’t really matter. The fruit of the tea plant seen here is a type of nut. Inside are up to six seeds. Before choosing which seeds to plant, the grower does something interesting: he collects lots of seeds, then soaks them all in water for 24 hours. When he returns, he throws away all the seeds floating on the water’s surface, and keeps the ones that have sunk to the bottom. He knows that only those seeds will produce good tea plants.