Week 3: In the company of Roland and Annie we were on the road again. This time we headed for the far corner of Zhejiang province, to the area of Dao Rem Feng.

The first factory on our itinerary is certified as organic and our visit coincided with that of the organic standards inspector. We therefore all headed to the gardens together in the misty hills above the factory, surrounded by bamboo forests. The tea bushes themselves were about ready for plucking, and production was due to start the following day - weather permitting. As Roland and I were looking at the new season's leaf, our friend from the organic certification body was busy checking the soil. A map of the garden in hand at one point she disappeared over the ridge and out of site, in the manner of an escaped convict making a bid for freedom.

She did return, though and the factory management had plenty of paperwork to cover off. In order to export teas as organic they must adhere to exacting internationally recognised standards, hence the need for frequent inspections and thorough checking. Roland and I therefore left them to it and took a tour round the tea factory. The new leaf we had seen was to be used for the production of Sencha  - steamed green tea, of which more later. However some of the local ‘traditional' green teas were already in manufacture. Rather like the Dragon Well tea produced near Hangzhou, there was an atmosphere of a cottage industry in the place, with teas being pan fried by hand, and loaded into the rolling machines in small bamboo baskets - quite a difference to the automated conveyor belts I'd seen in Africa. Here again, the artisan approach requires the ‘tea master' to draw on his wealth of experience to ensure the tea produced is of the highest standard.

Following a night in the guest house attached to the tea factory, we headed to the city of Wuyi (not to be confused with Wuyi Shan of my last blog) and a nearby factory that was just about to manufacture the first tea of the season.

Nearby, the tea fields were covered over with black, woven plastic sheets. Some bushes seemed to be wrapped as if somebody was about to pack them away for storage, others appeared to be in large tents. Roland explained that the bushes are covered to restrict growth and concentrate the nutrients in the leaf, which is ideal when producing Sencha tea...

Sencha tea is most often associated with Japan, it is produced and consumed there, but it uses a technique first adopted here in Zhejiang province. The main difference between Sencha and the pan fried green teas we saw previously is the process of steaming. The green leaf from the gardens is collected and sent through a specially designed steamer for just under a minute to prevent oxidation - i.e. to stop it becoming black or oolong tea. The leaf then precedes though a number of air driers and leaf shaping machines to create the distinctive flat, straight leaf.

Having watched the very first tea for the 2008 season make its way along the production line from green leaf to finished Sencha, there was the necessary tasting session. The result of the steaming process is to deliver a light, yellow liquor with a vegetal aroma and a seaweed like taste - some term this ‘fishy', which may not sound appealing to some tea drinkers, but it is certainly popular in Japan, China, and increasingly elsewhere.

After slurping the teas, checking the leaf colour and shape, factory manager, Mr Liu could see that there were improvements to be made, which is understandable on the first day of the season. So it was back to the machines to check steaming and drying times, even in what was a very mechanised process, the job of the tea master is still all important.

During the trip we were again treated to an intriguing array of foods, and what has interested me most is that just about everything on the table before you has some kind of functional quality, which Roland has been very good at pointing out. For example, fish head are regarded as good for the brain, and at a family meal is usually reserved for the children. Duck's tongue is also a speciality, and is supposed to aid one's faculty of speech, which makes sense, I suppose. Though, why pig's trotters are good for the skin, I can't imagine.

Many of the theories are backed up with scientific research, though the ideas have been around here in China for centuries, albeit explained in a different manner. One such concept is that of the ‘heat devil' as Roland explained to me, when you're feeling hot, you need something to ward off this pernicious demon, and tea is one such thing that can do it. Well, I may not be a convert to fish heads as yet, but I'll be happy to reach for a cup of Sencha to ward off any devils.

Week 4: Having spent the first three weeks looking at white, green and oolong teas it what time to see how China does black tea in Anhui province.

Our destination would be Keemun (or Qi men), home to one of the world's most celebrated black teas. In the company of Roland, ‘little' Mao (no relation to Mao in my previous blogs) and Mr Pan, it was back on the highway again. Apparently Keemun is a sensitive military area as well and Roland was concerned that the presence of a European might be considered as suspicious. Luckily there was no need to be smuggled through checkpoints in the boot of the car.

Roland also warned me that the accommodation might be a bit basic. So as we pulled into the town of Keemun itself it turned out that we were staying in a disappointingly normal hotel, not the barrack room I had been imagining. The military zone starts a few kilometres outside, and though there were plenty of men in uniform around, I don't think I was being viewed as a security risk.

We visited a nearby factory that produces the famous Keemun tea. Black tea in this area has a relatively short history in terms of the Chinese tea culture. The technique was brought in from a neighbouring province in the 1870s, and there is a statue to its ‘founder' in the factory grounds. Since then the tea has established quite a reputation across the globe, particularly in France and Germany.

So what makes Keemun tea so special? As I've noticed so often during this stage of the trip, much depends on the tea master employing the right techniques in the right proportion. The first stage of withering - where the tea is partially dried with warm air - was familiar enough to me. Then the leaf is rolled and cut in what we in the business call the ‘orthodox' technique - which is what is employed in making black tea elsewhere in China and other places such as Sri Lanka. This gives the tea its ‘leafy' appearance. The key to Keemun, however, comes in the next stage of oxidation (or fermentation) where the cut green leaf becomes black tea. The leaf is put in wooden crates that are stacked onto shelves in a room which is kept warm and at about 90% humidity. This was quite different to the production line type methods I'd seen employed in factories in Africa.

As we went to see all this in action, our host, Mr Rong, told me that I wouldn't be able to take any photographs. I was again concerned that there may be suspicions of my involvement in some kind of espionage conspiracy.

In fact as we entered the oxidation room I realised what he meant. At 90 % humidity the visibility was about six inches, and I lasted about sixty seconds before water started dripping off me. The tea would be in there for five hours, before being dried and sorted ready for drinking. After the free sauna experience of the oxidation room, we went back to the office to taste some of the finished product. It is worth noting here that in China they don't refer to black tea, but ‘red' tea on account of the colour of the brew. A good Keemun will be coloury with a golden halo around the edge of the cup, combined with a taste that is light and refreshing but with a complex character.

Before returning to the Hangzhou office we took a trip to Qiyun Shan, a mountain with a ‘red cloud' rock formation, which has for centuries been a sacred place to Taoists. After a very modern trip on the cable car, we toured the temples and shrines that are carved into the rock, along with the tiny villages on the hilltops. Although it is now something of a tourist spot with plenty of hawkers trying to sell you incense sticks for making offerings, you can definitely feel the calm and serenity, quite a contrast to the high-paced life of modern China.

So it is that I come towards the end of the Chinese leg of my journey. I would like to thank my hosts for their hospitality, for introducing me to the culinary highlights, the joys of Chinese style karaoke, and of course all the tea. As there is a national holiday here next week, I'm taking a few days in Shanghai before flying to my next destination - India.