Strange how a teapot can represent at the same time the comforts of solitude, the pleasures of company and how it can lift the veil of a foggy day.

Nobody warned me about the kettle but everyone, and I mean everyone, notified me of the incoming fog. The kettle I am referring to is the much loved and necessary household item in the UK. The force behind that cup of tea we all love so much, the one that gives it life. I know that this is certainly true for my family where any occasion calls for that perfect cup of tea. When everything is changing around me for exciting or less exciting reasons, tea is my one constant. It stays the same, never lets me down and gives me the kind of comfort which cannot be explained. Whether one is happy, sad, worried, sharing good news or simply catching up with a loved one tea is key. On a grey English day a cup of tea is just what the doctor orders.

Here in Catalunya, I have found a few tea lovers but more common is the love for good quality coffee. The drinks culture here provides a similar comfort to drinking tea in England. It is often social, an excuse to catch up with loved ones, express our emotions, share ideas  or discuss new ventures. One of my favourite  discoveries and now staple drink (outside of my home) is a 'tallat'. A 'tallat' is a teeny little coffee with a miniscule amount of milk. The perfect drink for those who love the taste of coffee but get the jitters after a normal cup or those that want to taste something that leaves them wanting more. The coffee I've had here is hands down the best I've had anywhere. It definitely beats Tianjin and maybe even London. This little cup of joy fills me with comfort, warmth and energy but also keeps me calm. So whilst the Catalans might not be accustomed to the six cups of tea I have a day, the significance of a warm drink is similar.

Amrita enjoying her tallat!

So, with my love of tea, one can only imagine the alarm bells which rang when I scouted the kitchen for my beloved kettle and could not locate one. The next day I asked my lovely mentor, ‘so do you know where I can find a kettle and what do you do to make tea, coffee or an infusion?’. She answered by telling me it was more common for Catalan households to use the microwave or a saucepan to boil water. I went home that evening to try the microwave method. I must say I was not too impressed. This may be due to the fact that although I am patient with most things in life, unfortunately this quality does not transcend to my need for tea.I would take the cup out and the water would be semi-boiled and frothy (I’m talking a tea bag without milk) and, without trying, I would create a frothy tea latte. Not as luxurious as it sounds

With disappointment in the air, I tried to make another cup this time waiting for the full amount of time which I estimated at 2 and half minutes. I took out the cup and the handle was so hot that I burnt my fingers. Needless to say, I stuck to orange juice that day and waited for the minor burn to relieve itself. The next day I tried the saucepan approach. This was slightly more successful! It was burn free, less of a latte and more of the tea I know and love. However, it was still not the same. I love and embrace change but just not with my cup of tea. As soon as my tea-loving mum came to visit she understood the problem. We went on an adventure to find a kettle. Searching from supermarket to supermarket  when at last, we found one! It lay hidden in one of the Chinese supermarkets which sells everything under the sun, honestly name an item and it’s there! It was a pricey 12 Euros but I took it. We hurried home that day and made the best cup of tea I had the pleasure of drinking in one and a half months. It was worth it.

Now, back to the fog that everyone warned me about. I began the year basking in the glory of the sun talking about how wonderful it was and explaining  how much I loved life. Then I heard ,’but wait until you see the fog’. Or if it was painfully cold one day and I felt as if my fingers were going to fall off (slightly dramatic- I just don’t deal well with cold) one would reply by saying,’ you haven’t seen anything  yet just wait until you see the fog!’. I heard countless stories of previous years where the fog was so low and  thick that it was too dangerous to drive. I anxiously waited for this dangerous fog but it never came. After returning from the Christmas holidays, the fog appeared with vigour. I was amazed  as I had never seen anything like it before. It seemed as though a soft blanket of candy floss rested above my head.  It was akin to a sinking cloud but not quite as fluffy,  more mystical.  Walking through the fog in the absence of others felt eerie at eleven o’clock in the morning.

I have never given fog this much thought but have found it to be quite fascinating. There is no real difference between clouds and fog. Fog is a cloud which has formed near the surface of the earth.When water evaporates from a body of water it does so as water vapour forming a gas wich rises and bonds with dust particles. These then form droplets which join forces to make thick dense fog.

A foggy Balaguer.

The old bridge hidden under the veil of the fog.

My second encounter with the fog was late one afternoon, when I was walking back from the library.  It was dark and foggy so I had trouble seeing what was coming ahead. Those that know me well know of my irrational fear of dogs. Normally, I like to do my research of the paths that lie ahead and like to know in advance which dog is coming towards me so I can redirect my route. This time in the fog, all I could hear was barking, so I looked to my right, left, in front of and behind me and there was nothing. The barking was getting louder. To combat my fear and lack of vision I RAN all the way home and locked both my door and room door and then unlocked my room door to make a perfect cup of tea to settled my nerves. Luckily this water vapour from the kettle gave me a feeling of contentment and provided me with a little cup of heaven.