My first travels began at home, going back and forth from the kitchen to the living room. As a child sitting next to my mother, I was amazed by how she poured steaming water and tea leaves into the teapot. Simultaneously, we would prepare a tray with warm scones, slices of bread, crackers, butter, honey, and tomato jam. It was cold outside, so we had our tea by the fireplace. Those were the days!
I have always loved tea. Infusions of other aromatic plants never gave me as much joy as real tea. I learned at home to take my tea without sugar, and only rarely with a cloud of milk to mask any excessive bitterness. If I had a sore throat, a spoonful of honey and a sliver of lemon peel were also acceptable. However, in the 1990s, most tea in Lisbon was sold in teabags; if we ordered loose-leaf tea in specialty shops, there were few variations of black tea and lower-quality green tea. And it was difficult to find a nice Oolong.
Qatar: My first contact with a different tea culture was years ago in Qatar. Upon arriving at the hotel, I was served a welcome drink steaming from a small silver glass with engraved Arabic motifs. The drink was warm and refreshing at the same time. Moroccan, Tuareg, and Arabic people love green tea with peppermint to offset the inhospitable temperatures of the desert. In regions stretching from North Africa to the Middle East and Central Asia, they use a ratio of roughly 20–35% dry green tea to 65–80% fresh peppermint. The water is hot but not boiling, ensuring it doesn’t overcook the leaves and extracts only the best flavours. You can easily prepare this at home. In Qatar, it feels as though no one lives only in the present; you see deep contrasts between the past and the future: traditional old souks and climatised shopping malls, the ancient treasures of the Museum of Islamic Art facing glass skyscrapers across Doha Bay... and old-fashioned hospitality served in a modern hotel.
