St Margaretâ??s Hope is a tiny village on the Orkney Islands off the scottish Coast. The Orkneys stand off the Scottish coast toward the Shetlands Scandinavia and the hope that named the village might have belonged to the unlucky Margaret, Princess of Norway and granddaughter to Alexander III of Scotland.

Margaret was only three when her grandfather died and she inherited the right to the Scottish throne. The little girl, who was betrothed to the heir to the English Crown, Edward, sailed to her Scottish domains in September 1290, when she was just seven years old. Heavy weather forced her ship to land in Orkney. But tiny Margaretâ??s hope to escape the storm unscathed was shortlived. She died on the island a short while later, worn down by exhaustion and a very serious sea-sickness.

I have always wondered whether the remote Orkney village is in some way linked to Margaretâ??s Hope, one of the oldest and most established gardens in Darjeeling. Perhaps the estate was named by a homesick Scot?

A big garden, Margaretâ??s Hope stands in the districtâ??s Kurseong North Valley and spans 892 acres of China bushes. I tried one of their teas today, a first flush SFTGFOPâ??that is, special finest tippy golden flowery orange pekoe. Incidentally, I am convinced that the tea experts that came up with orthodox tea grading secretly belonged to a school of sadist linguists bent on making the average drinker trip on his own tongue. Try saying SFTGFOP a couple of times and see what I mean.

That said, this particular SFTGFOP, which I got from Whittard, as worth all the effort of asking for it. First flush means that the tea is picked right after the dormant winter season and tends to be more delicate in flavor. This particular one was picked about eleven months ago. I worried that it would taste flat because it is coming at the end of its shelf lifeâ??after eight to twelve months or so, first flush teas are prone to lose their aromaâ??but I was pleasantly surprised.

Because this tea is only lightly oxidized, Whittard recommends brewing it lightâ??2 teaspoons for a six-cup teapot for 4 minutes. The cup it yielded was a beauty. Perfectly clear and golden with a sweetish, hint-of-muscatel aroma. It was light at first approach, with a barely-there sweet note and a very long green tea-ishâ??that is to say, refreshingly vegetaleyâ??finish. Absolutely superlative and, for once, I didnâ??t feel the urge to brew it stronger than instruction. A Renaissance masterpiece of a tea. Iâ??d say Raphael, but I like Botticelli better, so Botticelli it is.