Search the very depths of your mind, perhaps all the way back to childhood and you will realise that you already know Mingo Keith. You might recognise him better if you turn your head upside down and picture him at a croquet match with his regal (and somewhat bad tempered) handler trying to get him to hit a rolled up hedgehog, but that is just a tiny (and certainly not his proudest!) moment of one of his many adventures.

Born to one of South America’s most aristocratic flocks, Mingo Keith grew up in the knowledge that his ancestors were revered amongst the Ancient Greeks and the Romans. Initially confused with the Phoenix, Mingos were thought of as Gods as they certainly were amongst the oldest creatures on the planet.

Mingo Keith’s family was as eccentric as it was extensive. Great Uncle Horace always had a story or two about his battles in the age of the Dinosaurs (though our young Mingo had his doubts about such excitable tales). Aunt Klara was instrumental in Keith’s passion for culinary flavour. What she couldn’t do with a blue-green algae was nothing short of sorcery! Then there was cousin Lionel – every family has that cousin who was slightly off-beat and more than a little different. There was always talk about where those pink stripes came from but never anything above a whisper in polite company.  Little Isidora was the one he would miss most, of course. Her little gangly legs stamping out the dinner dance in the shallows whilst she giggled and stumbled about in search of pink delights would later be the design inspiration for his own watering hole, although there were many adventures and escapades to be had before he would eventually realise his dream.

Head strong and curious, Mingo Keith said goodbye to his extended family of brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins and spread his magnificent wings in search of adventure. Little did he know he would get much more than he bargained for………………