Howard
met her at the arched doorway, a Russian blue
cat winding itself round his left leg. “It’s good to see you again, my dear. Do
come in – and we’ll do the introductions in the courtyard.” He was tall, with a
slight stoop to the shoulders. He had prominent jowls, and a complexion mottled
with liver spots, unusually early for someone in his mid-fifties, she thought.
Salt and pepper hair was long and covered his ears, falling to his open-necked
shirt collar. His eyes glinted blue-green.
He led
them along a short warren of passageways hemmed in by high walls and moments
later emerged onto a much narrower passage, dimly lit; then through an arch
they stepped into a covered courtyard, its walls decorated with intricate
arabesques and glazed zellij tiles. The floor tiles were a mixture of blue and
ochre patterns, representing the sky and the land. A little way along the edge
of the wall, earthenware pots stood crammed full with gum and false pepper
trees, jacaranda and creepers and assorted thick shrubs.
A large
empty bird cage stood next to six metal chairs that surrounded a large round
table; on it lay a big brass tray, a steaming kettle, a pewter basin, three
bowls for sugar, mint and tea leaves, three brass tea-pots and five glass cups.
One chair was occupied by a tortoiseshell cat, dozing.
The
introductions were over quickly.
“Time
for mint tea.” Howard gently lifted off the cat, put it on the floor; it
pranced away. “Please sit! Gerard will do the honours, won’t you, old fellow?”
“I
always do, Howard, dear,” Gerard responded. Cat noticed he was familiar with
the tea ritual. If offered a glass of tea from a prepared pot, you’re welcome.
If the tea was made in front of you, you were very welcome.
Gerard
poured a little hot water into the three teapots, rinsed them and discarded the
water in the basin; then he added the tea leaves and hot water. “I let it steep
for about two minutes,” he explained.
“It is
worth the wait,” Howard told Rick.
Then
Gerard swirled the teapots and discarded only the water. Finally, he added
sugar and mint leaves to each teapot and then boiling water, and closed the
lids.
Rick
licked his lips. “I can almost taste it already,” he said.
“Soon,”
Gerard said, smiling. “Five minutes.”
“I think
we’ve lost something in the modern world with all this instant coffee and
teabags, don’t you think?” Howard said.
“Yes,”
Rick said.
“Too
busy to savour life,” Gerard added.
“Quite
so, my friend,” Howard replied.
Finally,
Gerard poured the golden liquid into the glass cups, letting the stream fall
from a reasonable height to cause slight froth.
“Delicious!”
Rick enthused, sipping his drink.
Cat
noticed that Abdel seemed at ease. Howard had that effect on people; or maybe
it was the tea?
“What
happened to your parrot?” Cat asked.
At that
moment, two black cats rushed up to Howard and jumped onto his lap.
Automatically stroking them, he wrinkled his nose. “One of our feline
companions ate it – I don’t know which one was the culprit, though.”
She eyed
Rick. “My point exactly. Cats make ideal predators,” she purred.
***
Not far from our home here in Spain is a place we call ‘The Arab
Tearooms’ – Carmen del Campillo o de los Moriscos – which is a pleasure to visit. All manner of teas are served, as
well as soft drinks (no alcohol!) amidst the mature gardens – or within an
ornately decorated building with many nooks and crannies. The place is an antique collector's paradise.
The admission is eight euros per person, which includes tea and
sweet pastries, most of which are daubed in an excess of honey.
Here too can be found a peacock roaming the grounds, together with
cats and dogs and pigeons. All overseen by exceedingly tall date palms. At
night, the gardens are subtly lit by lanterns, and we never seemed to be
troubled by mosquitos or flies – perhaps the various plants deterred them.
***
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