By eight the sandbox already knew which hump was ready to pour. The camels stood in a polite line beside the square, greeted the nearest bucket, nodded to the bench, and only then lowered a tiny tea tray from the taller hump. The cup that arrived was exactly one, warm, and waiting for a thank-you.
We asked at the kiosk by the gate. "I thought the city had opened a new cafe overnight," said a man with a paper bag. "Then the first camel waited for my nod, and the tray slid forward as if it had practiced. My bun went softer from standing still."
The park keeper pinned a note to the railing: visitors may take tea, but please do not stack a second cup on the same hump. By noon the square already knew one quieter way to say after you, and a sparrow on the bench practiced waiting for exactly one saucer.