Those were the days..

Sipping tea on the manicured lawn, whilst urchins looked after the boots.

Playing polo in the early afternoon and bridge in the evening over a civilzed cigar and port.

For the ladies, the life was even simpler. If you were dressing and you suddenly found you'd torn your frock all you did was throw it out the window and say to the durzi "maramut katro!" and you wouldn't see it again until it was complete ...

Shirts and trousers ironed with starch and a crease so sharp, you could cut a native with it.

Good Days!