Elevenses

A lovely walk today, over a spur of a hill and down a steep path to a secluded beach. This shack at the top of the hill sold orange juice, nuts, local honey - and tea, Turkish tea in little glasses, which I had. You can see the wood-fired stove with its arrangement of water and tea pots, a bit of plastic over the spout to keep it insect- and dust-free, and beside it the axe used to chop the wood. The man offered me a second cup, refusing payment, delighted when I accepted. He asked me if the group was German. They're English, I said, and we're Scottish. Ah, he said, Scottish, and beamed.

We wondered if tea stewed over a fire and diluted with water would ever take off at home. Idea for the next church fundraiser?

Perhaps not.