Dogs on heat, cats on pizza and bees back in town

I have just returned from a holiday to Morocco, via Spain. The idea was to drive through Spain and into Morocco, then head for the Atlas mountains. The VW Syncro camper van my friend Andrew and I were travelling in had other ideas. It broke down outside Granada, leaving us no option but to be towed to Malaga where we spent 4 days trying to get the engine fixed. On day 5 the prognosis was that a new engine was required. Arrangements were made and we then set off for Morocco on foot, time and Atlas mountain plans severely hampered.

Bummer. But it wasn't all bad.

Being stuck in the heart of the Costa del Sol coastline comes a close second to my idea of ultimate hell - being stuck in Las Vegas. But by taking the attitude that we were determined to make the most of the situation and stay positive, all was not lost.

As two British men with mixed race African partners, our partners are cousins, and each with a mixed race daughter, also cousins, we felt relaxed about observing and commenting on the many wonderful mixed race combinations that thrive in harmony in southern Spain. Being fathers to ladies in waiting, we were particularly interested in the many female beauties of mixed race that proliferate in the region. All research strictly from a father/daughter perspective!

The other bonus in Spain was the warmth and kindness bestowed on us by the locals. We were aided by Fedde, an aeroplane mechanic with good English who has a passion for VW camper vans. He took us to the workshop where he spends his free time rebuilding cars, and the owners, Paco sen and Paco jnr, made us feel like family. They catered for our every need with grace and courtesy and went out of their way to help get the engine fixed. Paco jnr also introduced us to his 15 cats and let us help him feed them their daily dose of pizza.

I've never spent time in Spain with Spanish people before, or needed their help and assistance. I can't fault them. The Spaniards we encountered were kind, witty and caring. What a marvellous race of people. I love Spain and Spaniards.

Not having the camper van, and with less time, options to explore Morocco were reduced. We opted to stay in Chefchaouen, on the edge of the Rif mountains, and explored the countryside around and about every day. The Rif seem to get overlooked as the Atlas mountains dwarf them, and because it is the region where all of Morocco's cannabis is grown. Sure, we saw plenty 'kif' growing boldly yet privately, and got a tour of a farm by the owner, a former French teacher. But we also walked and drove through endless beautiful scenery of hills, rivers and valleys and could easily have stayed for much longer without leaving the region.

Thanks to the openness of the Moroccans we learned a lot about the country, too. While being slowly surrounded by what I though were wasps as I sipped on my sweet mint tea and tried to remain calm, I was relieved to the point of spraying my mouthful of tea all over the place when I was told they were actually bees. I had been at the point of dropping my tea and bolting as Moroccan bees look just like British wasps and my nerve was cracking. Of all the many things I learned, that was the most personally satisfying facts.

The bees had been killed off by a tree spraying regime a few years ago, but they were making a comeback and that was something for all Moroccans to rejoice. Bees are important to all humans for their ability to pollinate, but especially important to Moroccans as honey is a staple of their diet.

I also witnessed the 5 times a day call to prayer for the first time, and experienced watching a football match (Champions League Final) in a bar full of men of all ages without a drop of alcohol being consumed. A far less intimidating experience, and, ironically enough, a very sobering one.

And the food! Tangines, keftas, cous-cous, yogurt, honey, fresh orange juice .... all of it wonderful, wonderful food.

I've heard places like Fez and Marakesh can be a hustle and hassle too far, and while I'd like to visit them when I return to Morocco, as I surely will, I'm glad to have missed out this time round. I got an easy, gentle introduction into life Morocco style where basically everyone is happy so long as they are huckling you and getting you to part with your money. A little for everyone makes life far less complex! Yet I still got stung several times, every time I made a purchase probably.

And why not? Moroccans are fascinating, Moroccan men anyway, I never spoke to one Moroccan female. They are bold and brassy, proud and sure. They and their country captivated me, charmed me and convinced me to return again one day.

Food Shortages Make Me Sick

The media is full of stories of rising food prices and the possibility of tens, if not hundreds, of millions of people around the world facing severe hunger and possible starvation as a result.

The reason given for the rising prices is food shortages. Food shortages? Who is anyone kidding? Does anyone genuinely believe that there is a shortage of food on planet earth?

In the last house they lived in, my parents had a small apple tree. Every year they would make apple jam, jelly, pies, cakes, tarts, juice: anything they could think of to use up the apples. They gave apples away, took them to the local donkey sanctuary for feed. No matter what they made and did with the apples, they could never use them all up. From one small tree.

In the little village I called home when I lived in Portugal every garden had half a dozen orange trees. Everyone who lived in the village was overdosing on vitamin c, yet the ground around the trees were littered with fallen, rotting oranges that no-one could use. It was the same in every village I visited.

Nature is abundant and naturally provides vast quantities of all kinds of foods.

Then there is the grotesque wastage of food from cafes, bars, restaurants, supermarkets and homes throughout the more than plentiful world, where the only thing that is scarce is a sense of decency and morality.

Of course you can't parcel up all the wasted food from those that have far too much and post it to those who are starving to death. But you can be under no illusion that the only reason people go hungry is because of politics and economics: it's got nothing to do with scarcity.

It all smacks of a global agenda to push the unreal food industry that make genetically modified seeds and plants, etc. If a few million of the world's poorest people have to suffer and die, so be it. The planet is awash with humans like never before, life is cheap and the poor are easily expendable. Nothing stands in the way of global corporations and their agendas.

It's enough to make me sick?