Many years ago I helped build a private railroad for a tourist attraction in the middle of a really hot summer.

My job was bolting the rails together. Both the rails and the bolts had been salvaged from a one hundred year old shipwreck, and they had a hundred years worth of rust on them.

In order to do the job I was given a ratchet with a five foot extension handle. Basically it was a matter of standing over the rail connection, and pulling the ratchet handle toward my chest to tighten the bolts. Even with the leverage from that five foot ratchet handle, it was a really tough job. After just a couple of weeks, I kid you not, my pecs and biceps were as big and hard as Schwarznegger's in his prime.

Every couple of hours we would stop for a smoko. The boss would light a fire with some scraps of wood, put the billy on and boil some water and throw some tea in it.

We'd have it with some sugar to taste, can't recall now if we used milk at all, but that tea was far and away the best beverage I have ever tasted. It really was like manna from heaven. It seemed to flow into every pore of my body like rejuvenating nectar. Ever since, I've had a soft spot for tea.