In 2002, a wealthy purchaser paid 180,000 yuan – almost $28,000 – for just 20g of China’s legendary Da Hong Pao tea. Even in a culture that’s valued tea drinking as an art form for around 1,500 years (and has a system of tea classification that makes French wine look simple), the price was astonishing.
Original Da Hong Pao doesn’t just cost its weight in gold – it costs more than 30 times its weight in gold: almost $1,400 for a single gram, or well over $10,000 for a pot. It’s one of the most expensive teas in the world.
“It looks fit for a beggar, but it’s priced for an emperor and has the heart of the Buddha,” said Xiao Hui, a tea maker in Wuyishan, a misty riverside town in Fujian, southern China. She showed me the dark, tangled, unfinished-looking Da Hong Pao leaves from her family’s tea gardens in Wuyishan. Xiao and her family, tea makers for many generations, still go into the mountains every spring to call on the tea god, Lu Yu, to bring new shoots.
Wuyishan’s startling karst landscape has been famous for tea for centuries. The rain that pours down the limestone gorges and karst pinnacles, flooding the narrow mountain streams and tumbling waterfalls, is heavy with minerals that impart flavour.
Today, every other shop in Wuyishan has a tea-tasting table set for the ritual of gong fu cha (kung fu tea) – the closest China comes to the Japanese tea ceremony –and shelves stacked with a gaudy selection of tea leaves.
Travelling to Wuyishan, I discovered that many Da Hong Pao teas are surprisingly affordable. Though aged or antique versions can sell for extremely high prices, a Da Hong Pao of reasonable quality can cost around $100 per kilo in Wuyishan. But every genuine Da Hong Pao originates with a cutting from a single group of mother trees. And it’s these original trees that produce the rare and sought-after original tea.
“The original Da Hong Pao is so expensive because there are hardly any of the original tea trees left,” explained local tea master Xiangning Wu. “And antique versions are very valuable, almost priceless.” In fact, it’s all so exclusive that specialist brokers navigate the rarefied world of China’s ultra-wealthy tea collectors, connecting those who need to sell with those who wish to buy.
But it’s not just the Chinese who value Da Hong Pao. In 1849, British botanist Robert Fortune came to the Wuyishan mountains on a secret mission, part of the agro-industrial espionage at which the colonial East India Company excelled.
Britons were, then, as now, obsessed with tea, and China – from where the Brits also bought silk and porcelain ?– was the only place they could get it. But Britain made little that China wanted, creating a massive trade deficit. An obvious way of resolving the balance of trade was to do what the East India Company had done with other valuable plants: steal the seeds (or, better, cuttings) and grow them elsewhere. If Britain could make its own tea in India, the nation would be that much less dependent on China.
But Britain couldn’t. The tea seeds that previous spies had sourced from Guangdong simply would not grow – and the native Indian tea bushes, a different type of plant to Chinese tea, just didn’t taste right.
Enter Fortune. His aim was to track down China’s best tea – Da Hong Pao – and to learn how to grow it. And since almost all of China was closed to foreigners on pain of death, disguise was essential. Fortune hired a servant, cut his hair, affixed a purchased pigtail and embarked for Wuyishan in search of Da Hong Pao.
Just as they do today, tea gardens clambered up and around the mountains, squeezed into the narrowest of gorges and perched on the steepest of slopes. And just like today, a handful of precious bushes balanced in a brick terrace in a vertiginous limestone face, with three Chinese characters carved in scarlet: Da Hong Pao. The name – Big Red Robe – references a scarlet blanket that a mythical emperor donated long ago in thanks for a miracle cure.
Fortune took up residence in the Tianxin Yongle Temple below Da Hong Pao, and – amid leisurely discussions as to whether shoots picked by monkeys or virgins made the best tea – the botanist acquired seeds, seedlings and the secrets of their cultivation. When they reached India, these seeds, merged with indigenous Indian tea, would form the beginnings of an industry now worth billions of dollars a year.
Robert Fortune在大紅袍巖下的天心永樂禪寺定居下來。在是否經猴子或**採摘的嫩芽才能做出最好的茶的閒聊中，這位植物學家獲得了茶種、茶苗及栽培的秘密。在他們到達印度時，這些種子，與印度當地的茶樹相結合，將開啟一個新的產業，如今他們的茶葉產業年價值達數十億美元。
Or, as Zhe Dao, now abbot of Tianxin Yongle told me: “In the 19th Century, some plant hunter came and took the seeds. But he didn’t know how to make the tea so he needed the masters to teach him how.”
Tianxin Yongle was founded in 827AD. In 1958, during the Mao era, the monks were forced out, taking their tea-making knowledge with them. When Zhe arrived from the ancient city of Suzhou in 1990, what little remained of the temple was home to peasants.
“Back then it was just me,” Zhe explained. “Now I have a lot of disciples, so five or six years ago we started to make tea.”
他說，“那時只有我一個人。不過現在我有了很多弟子。所以，大約五六年前我們又開始種茶。
”
I walked past the monastery’s vegetable gardens and up and along the narrow, winding mountain paths to the original Da Hong Pao.
穿過寺院的菜園，前行再走過一段狹窄、蜿蜒的山路，我見到了大紅袍母樹。
The trees looked tired and spindly. Estimates of their age vary widely. It was hard to imagine these straggly bushes bursting with new growth.
這些茶樹看起來很疲倦，很纖弱。估計他們的年齡差距很大。很難想象出他們還能發出新芽來。
And it seems that they won’t. On 1 May, soon after the tea harvest begins, a red carpet will be rolled out to mimic the emperor’s gift. Beautiful women dressed in traditional costume will ascend the mossy steps and perform a ritual.
But there will be no harvest. These precious, ancient bushes, last harvested in 2005, will likely never make tea again. Which means the scattered few grams collectors are lovingly storing, drying them each year to mature their flavour, will be more valuable than ever before. Perhaps as expensive as diamonds, given time
In 2002, a wealthy purchaser paid 180,000 yuan – almost $28,000 – for just 20g of China’s legendary Da Hong Pao tea. Even in a culture that’s valued tea drinking as an art form for around 1,500 years (and has a system of tea classification that makes French wine look simple), the price was astonishing.
2002年，一位富商花了18萬——約2.8萬美元——競得20G中國傳說中的母樹大紅袍。即使在飲茶文化有著1500年曆史的國度裡（且，它的茶品等級分類已經使得法國紅酒相形失色），這個價格依然相當令人吃驚。
Original Da Hong Pao doesn’t just cost its weight in gold – it costs more than 30 times its weight in gold: almost $1,400 for a single gram, or well over $10,000 for a pot. It’s one of the most expensive teas in the world.
母樹大紅袍並不是和同等重量的黃金等價——它是同等重量黃金價格的30倍：1克約達1400美元，或者，一壺的售價遠超1萬美元。它是世界是最貴的茶之一。
“It looks fit for a beggar, but it’s priced for an emperor and has the heart of the Buddha,” said Xiao Hui, a tea maker in Wuyishan, a misty riverside town in Fujian, southern China. She showed me the dark, tangled, unfinished-looking Da Hong Pao leaves from her family’s tea gardens in Wuyishan. Xiao and her family, tea makers for many generations, still go into the mountains every spring to call on the tea god, Lu Yu, to bring new shoots.
武夷山的茶葉生產商肖慧介紹，“大紅袍有著乞丐的外表、皇帝的身價、菩薩的心腸。”中國西部福建省的武夷山是大紅袍的產地，它是一個霧氣迷濛的河畔小城。肖慧給我們展示了從她家的茶園裡採摘的未加工的大紅袍葉子，通體烏黑、捲曲。她和她的家人，世代以茶為生，每年春天，他們都會進山祭祀茶神陸羽，祈求能帶來更多的新梢。
Wuyishan’s startling karst landscape has been famous for tea for centuries. The rain that pours down the limestone gorges and karst pinnacles, flooding the narrow mountain streams and tumbling waterfalls, is heavy with minerals that impart flavour.
幾個世紀來，武夷山令人震驚的喀斯特景觀都以產茶而聞名。從石灰岩峽谷和喀斯特尖峰上傾盆而下的雨水，衝起了狹窄的山間小溪流，形成翻滾的瀑布，它們富含能提升茶葉口感的礦物質。
Today, every other shop in Wuyishan has a tea-tasting table set for the ritual of gong fu cha (kung fu tea) – the closest China comes to the Japanese tea ceremony –and shelves stacked with a gaudy selection of tea leaves.
如今，武夷山每一個茶鋪都有一個專門為功夫茶道而設的品茶桌——功夫茶是中國與日本茶道里最接近的一種，以及一些架子，堆放著各種茶葉供挑選。
Travelling to Wuyishan, I discovered that many Da Hong Pao teas are surprisingly affordable. Though aged or antique versions can sell for extremely high prices, a Da Hong Pao of reasonable quality can cost around $100 per kilo in Wuyishan. But every genuine Da Hong Pao originates with a cutting from a single group of mother trees. And it’s these original trees that produce the rare and sought-after original tea.
去武夷山旅遊，我發現很多大紅袍茶都出乎意料的便宜。在武夷山，儘管一些年代久遠的大紅袍可以賣出天價，但常見的大紅袍每公斤約100美元。然而，純種大紅袍卻是從母樹上切下的枝椏繁殖出來的。正是這些母樹生產出了這樣極為罕見、非常吃香的茶。
“The original Da Hong Pao is so expensive because there are hardly any of the original tea trees left,” explained local tea master Xiangning Wu. “And antique versions are very valuable, almost priceless.” In fact, it’s all so exclusive that specialist brokers navigate the rarefied world of China’s ultra-wealthy tea collectors, connecting those who need to sell with those who wish to buy.
當地的茶藝師吳向寧解釋說，“大紅袍價格如此高，是因為母樹上幾乎沒有什麼茶葉了。年代久遠的大紅袍非常貴，簡直是無價的。”事實上，它們如此稀有、獨特，在中國超級富豪茶葉收藏家們的圈子裡，專門有經紀人在操縱，收集買家和賣家的資訊。
But it’s not just the Chinese who value Da Hong Pao. In 1849, British botanist Robert Fortune came to the Wuyishan mountains on a secret mission, part of the agro-industrial espionage at which the colonial East India Company excelled.
不過，珍視大紅袍價值的，不只是華人。1849年，英國植物學家Robert Fortune來到武夷山完成一項秘密使命，這是殖民地時代東印度公司擅長的農工業間諜活動的一部分。
Britons were, then, as now, obsessed with tea, and China – from where the Brits also bought silk and porcelain ?– was the only place they could get it. But Britain made little that China wanted, creating a massive trade deficit. An obvious way of resolving the balance of trade was to do what the East India Company had done with other valuable plants: steal the seeds (or, better, cuttings) and grow them elsewhere. If Britain could make its own tea in India, the nation would be that much less dependent on China.
彼時，直到如今，英華人都對茶非常痴迷，而中國，是他們唯一能得到茶的地方，他們還從這兒進口絲綢和瓷器。可是，中國卻沒有什麼要從英國進口的，這樣就形成了貿易逆差。要解決這種貿易差額，一個很明顯的方法，正如東印度公司曾對其他珍稀植物所做的那樣：偷種子（更有甚者，砍掉枝子），種到其他地方去。如果英華人能在印度種出自己的茶樹，那他們對中國的依賴就會**降低。
But Britain couldn’t. The tea seeds that previous spies had sourced from Guangdong simply would not grow – and the native Indian tea bushes, a different type of plant to Chinese tea, just didn’t taste right.
但是英華人的算盤落空了。他們先前偷的茶樹種，原產地是中國廣東，在印度無法生長，而印度當地的茶樹，是一種與中國茶迥異的品種，口感不好。
Enter Fortune. His aim was to track down China’s best tea – Da Hong Pao – and to learn how to grow it. And since almost all of China was closed to foreigners on pain of death, disguise was essential. Fortune hired a servant, cut his hair, affixed a purchased pigtail and embarked for Wuyishan in search of Da Hong Pao.
而Robert Fortune呢？他的目的是追蹤到中國最好的茶——大紅袍——並學**如何種植它。由於當時幾乎整個中國排外情緒高漲，偽裝是非常必要的。Fortune僱了一個僕人，他理掉頭髮，粘上買來的假辮子，就這樣喬裝後踏上了前往武夷山搜尋大紅袍的旅程。
Just as they do today, tea gardens clambered up and around the mountains, squeezed into the narrowest of gorges and perched on the steepest of slopes. And just like today, a handful of precious bushes balanced in a brick terrace in a vertiginous limestone face, with three Chinese characters carved in scarlet: Da Hong Pao. The name – Big Red Robe – references a scarlet blanket that a mythical emperor donated long ago in thanks for a miracle cure.
就像今天一樣，茶園彎彎曲曲延伸到了山上，擠到了最狹窄的峽谷裡，生長在最陡峭的山坡上。還是像今天一樣：幾棵珍貴的灌木生長在陡峭的石灰岩磚壁上，上面刻著三個紅色的漢字：大紅袍。大紅袍，原指的是一個紅色的毯子，據說是神話中某帝王為了感謝一個奇蹟般的治癒所贈。
Fortune took up residence in the Tianxin Yongle Temple below Da Hong Pao, and – amid leisurely discussions as to whether shoots picked by monkeys or virgins made the best tea – the botanist acquired seeds, seedlings and the secrets of their cultivation. When they reached India, these seeds, merged with indigenous Indian tea, would form the beginnings of an industry now worth billions of dollars a year.
Robert Fortune在大紅袍巖下的天心永樂禪寺定居下來。在是否經猴子或**採摘的嫩芽才能做出最好的茶的閒聊中，這位植物學家獲得了茶種、茶苗及栽培的秘密。在他們到達印度時，這些種子，與印度當地的茶樹相結合，將開啟一個新的產業，如今他們的茶葉產業年價值達數十億美元。
Or, as Zhe Dao, now abbot of Tianxin Yongle told me: “In the 19th Century, some plant hunter came and took the seeds. But he didn’t know how to make the tea so he needed the masters to teach him how.”
不過，正如當今的天心永樂禪寺主持澤道說，“19世紀，一些植物獵人來偷走了種子。但是他們不知道怎麼種植，所以需要大師來教。”
Tianxin Yongle was founded in 827AD. In 1958, during the Mao era, the monks were forced out, taking their tea-making knowledge with them. When Zhe arrived from the ancient city of Suzhou in 1990, what little remained of the temple was home to peasants.
天心永樂禪寺始建於公元827年。1958年，在毛澤東時代時，這些知道怎麼種植茶樹的和尚們都被驅逐出去，1990年，當澤道從蘇州古城回來時，這個禪寺裡只住著一些農民了。
“Back then it was just me,” Zhe explained. “Now I have a lot of disciples, so five or six years ago we started to make tea.”
他說，“那時只有我一個人。不過現在我有了很多弟子。所以，大約五六年前我們又開始種茶。
”
I walked past the monastery’s vegetable gardens and up and along the narrow, winding mountain paths to the original Da Hong Pao.
穿過寺院的菜園，前行再走過一段狹窄、蜿蜒的山路，我見到了大紅袍母樹。
The trees looked tired and spindly. Estimates of their age vary widely. It was hard to imagine these straggly bushes bursting with new growth.
這些茶樹看起來很疲倦，很纖弱。估計他們的年齡差距很大。很難想象出他們還能發出新芽來。
And it seems that they won’t. On 1 May, soon after the tea harvest begins, a red carpet will be rolled out to mimic the emperor’s gift. Beautiful women dressed in traditional costume will ascend the mossy steps and perform a ritual.
看起來他們確實不能。5月1日，自茶葉開始豐收後不久，這裡將模仿當年帝王捐贈的情形鋪上紅地毯。穿著傳統服裝的姑娘們會登上長滿青苔的臺階，為這個儀式表演。
But there will be no harvest. These precious, ancient bushes, last harvested in 2005, will likely never make tea again. Which means the scattered few grams collectors are lovingly storing, drying them each year to mature their flavour, will be more valuable than ever before. Perhaps as expensive as diamonds, given time
但豐收不再。這些珍貴的、古老的灌木，最後一次收穫是在2005年，自此以後就再也沒產出茶葉。這意味著零散的幾克茶葉將被收藏家悉心儲存，每年取出晾乾使其口感更加成熟，它們將比以前更加珍貴。有一天，可能貴比鑽石。