I don't know the technical difference between a veranda and a terrace except for two things: a veranda is covered, a part of the house, almost like a room open to the outside; and I associate verandas with life in tropical countries. In fact, other than a brief spell in Jamaica when we lived in a dreary little flat before moving to one of the school's staff cottages, I don't think I have ever lived in a house abroad which didn't have a veranda.
The best house for verandas was the last house we had in Mombasa, towards the end of Cliff Avenue, which boasted two, an upstairs veranda to which Saidi Mohammed delivered our early morning tea so we could enjoy it as we watched the sunrise, and the downstairs veranda where we relaxed through the daylight hours.
Both verandas had the same view, out across the garden and the golf course which ran below the house to the fringing reefs along the front of Mombasa island and the channel along which the ships passed in and out of Mombasa's main port of Kilindini. It was a spectacular view, one in which something was always happening, so one could spend hours just watching it. Add to the view the soft warm winds of the trades which bathed them, their privacy, and their deep shadiness, and they were the perfect places to spend as many of one's hours as one wanted.
While it's certainly more important as one gets older and less mobile, having a place in one's home where one can sit at peace and watch the world is of immense value to one's mental health. I count myself very fortunate that I have lived in so many houses with verandas.
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