High Tea- Short Story

Tea, the greatest invention of all time. I’ve always enjoyed tea but I only really got interested in the different types of tea in the Winter of 2017, two months before my trip to China. While scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, a post about the history of tea caught my eye. About an hour later and I considered myself a tea guru. The post spoke endlessly about the intricate flavors of Chinese tea but what really interested me was a tea house called Shān cháguǎn (mountain tea house). The tea house is nestled atop Mount Hua inside the Buddhist Huashan temple. The hike to the temple has been described by hikers as one of the most dangerous in the world, but everyone who survives the treacherous journey says that the rare Gaoshan oolong tea is worth the risk.There wasn’t much else to do but book my plane ticket.

The fourteen hour flight to Shanghai provided me with more than enough time to do some research on the rare Gaoshan tea. As it turns out the tea is extremely rare even to Google! The little bit that I could find and weave through google translate spoke of the tea having bold floral aromas and flavours. The tea is grown at high altitudes which allows the tea to have a superior quality over teas grown at lower altitudes. I touched down just before sunset and had a smooth transition into my overland bus which was to take me to the base of Mount Hua in Weinan. The 12 hour bus trip was not as luxurious as the price had alluded to but I was lucky enough to have a window seat which allowed me to enjoy the beautiful sunset. The long drive presented me with a new seat partner ever three hours or so which gave me the chance to dig into some offline knowledge of the Chinese tea. I struggled through the language barrier with the help of a guide book and some basic phrases but it still severely limited the depth of our conversations. Luckily every time I mentioned the Gaoshan tea my company was quick to page over to the section on Mount Hau. After four different conversations ended on the same page I started to look forward to the destination. As I lumbered off to sleep my mind couldn’t help but imagine the exquisite flavours that awaited me.

My bus dropped me off at the foot of the mountain right alongside a large sign with the words “Mount Hau” printed on it . There was also a small temporary sign next to it in Chinese which I didn’t manage to translate but luckily the characters didn’t resemble anything the guide book said was “Danger “ or “Route Closed”. The journey began with a series of steps known as the “Heavenly Stairs”, a long trail of steep stone steps carved directly into the mountain. After an hour of climbing the stairs the tea had become the sole image In my mind, a driving force to stop me from giving up. As the stairs trickled to an end I was forced to sidle along the sheer mountainside across a thin ledge made of what looked like scrap wood, stapled and lashed together like an afterthought. The hundred meter drop down the sheer cliff was made even more terrifying by the low lying clouds which now acted as a skirt on the mountain far below me. Without being able to see the bottom of the mountain the so called pathway looked a little bit more inviting. Once I had passed that never-ending section another set of worn stairs led me to the temple.  As I slowly climbed the last section of the stairs the image of the magical Gaoshan tea returned to my head. As the temperature got considerably colder and my legs considerably more tired the image in my head changed from a cup of Goashan tea to a steaming pot of it. Upon my arrival at the temple I was greeted by a rather surprised looking monk . Through my deep breaths I managed to ask him for a table and a menu ,thankfully his English was good enough to understand my request because I really wasn’t in the mood for paging through my phrase book. Once I had caught my breath I started to enjoy the beautiful tapestry that made up the tea house , I also noticed that the tea house was completely empty. During the bus trip I was told that the monks who lived atop this mountain loved the intricate flavours of Goashan tea and it surprised me that the waiter was the only monk in the tea house. I found it amusing that the waiter gave me time to decide on my order , surly everyone who makes the perilous journey only does it to sip the magical Goashan Oolong tea! 

After a few minutes the waiter nervously made his way to where I was sitting and asked for my order. Without giving him time to finish , I pointed to the Goashan tea. His face dropped and mine soon followed when he told me they had run out of Goashan. He then asked why I had come all this way even though I had been warned. The confused look on my face must have prompted him to explain that whenever the tea house runs out of Goashan they put up a temporary sign at the bus stop at base of the mountain. I felt like kicking myself when I realized I had walked right past that very sign. In the midst of my despair I saw a flash of hope in monks face. He quickly picked up the menu in front of me and told me he had something just as special! He proudly pointed at a tea called Rooibos and told me that the flavour was unlike anything I had ever tried before , he also boastingly added that it was  imported all the way from South Africa.