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Showing posts with label Gibraltar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gibraltar. Show all posts

Wednesday, 27 August 2014

Writing – research – Moroccan border trouble

My second novel in the ‘Avenging Cat’ series for Crooked Cat Publishing, to follow Catalyst (due for release probably this December), is entitled Catacomb. I’m working on it now. Quite a fair bit of the story takes place in Morocco.

Here are a couple of snippets of current news from that country.

There’s a continuing and unrelenting surge of migrants seeking access to Europe. One of the potential conduits is through the two Spanish enclaves of Melilla and Ceuta in North Africa. Both enclaves have a border with Morocco.  Although Morocco gained its independence in 1956, Spain claims a historical right to these two enclaves. Oddly, Spain does not recognise any such historical British right to control Gibraltar.

Just over a week ago, migrants made seven attempts to rush the fence in the span of four days. After two months of relative calm, about 1,500 migrants tried to cross the border into Melilla; some eighty managed to make it past the six-metre (20ft) razor-wire border fence, but were later apprehended.

Moroccan authorities have raided makeshift camps, mostly while the ‘residents’ are sleeping. Everything was flattened or destroyed – plastic tents, food and spare clothing. Hundreds of migrants were put on buses to Fez and Rabat. Apparently, they are then abandoned in the street and end up begging for money to return to the border.

In another report, human rights individuals claim the Spanish police have beaten migrants and illegally forced them back into Morocco when they tried to climb over the border into Melilla. They’re called ‘illegal pushbacks’ and ‘illegal expulsions’ of ‘migrants’.

Migrants usually possess documentation, to prove identity, for example. Some potential immigrants go so far as to erase fingerprints or destroy ID documents. The pressure has been mounting for years in this area – people trying to reach Europe to escape war, oppression or hardship in the benighted continent; though latterly, there may be other less humanitarian reasons to infiltrate into Europe.

On the other side of the coin, Spanish government officials have praised the ‘exemplary and humanitarian conduct’ of the border guards and also admit there is ‘dramatic migratory pressure’ on Europe’s borders.

***

In the meantime, if you’d like to read one of my other books, these are available from Crooked Cat Publishing http://crookedcatpublishing.com/ - or a number of outlets, viz:

Spanish Eye
 
Amazon UK – 2 good reviews
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Spanish-Eye-Nik-Morton-ebook/dp/B00GXK5C6S/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1408896228&sr=1-3&keywords=nik+morton

Amazon COM – 6 good reviews
http://www.amazon.com/Spanish-Eye-Nik-Morton-ebook/dp/B00GXK5C6S/ref=sr_1_4?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1408894106&sr=1-4&keywords=nik+morton

Blood of the Dragon Trees

Amazon  UK – 2 good reviews
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Blood-Dragon-Trees-Nik-Morton-ebook/dp/B00E8NE1SW/ref=sr_1_4?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1408900805&sr=1-4&keywords=nik+morton

Sudden Vengeance

Amazon UK – 2 good reviews
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sudden-Vengeance-Nik-Morton-ebook/dp/B00KE1GTPA/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1401884936&sr=1-1&keywords=nik+morton

Amazon COM - what, no reviews?
http://www.amazon.com/Sudden-Vengeance-Nik-Morton-ebook/dp/B00KE1GTPA/ref=sr_1_5?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1401884974&sr=1-5&keywords=nik+morton

Smashwords
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/439667

And paperback versions can be obtained post-free world-wide from http://www.bookdepository.com/

http://www.bookdepository.com/Spanish-Eye-Nik-Morton/9781909841314
 


 

 

 

Monday, 26 May 2014

Mum’s the word

My mother was born Florence Lillian Ross on this day in 1918. Harking from the north-east, I called her Mam. At some point I probably changed from using Mummy or Mammy, but don’t know when that happens. When self-consciousness sets in? Who knows. My mother-in-law came from the north-west, so I called her Mum. Americans use Mom. It all means the same, really.

I was adopted as a baby. She was and always will be my Mam. One day in the 1950s, sitting in Junior School class, I felt my face glow red when my Mam walked in to have a brief chat with our teacher. She looked really elegant, in a summer frock similar to that pictured below. A friend sitting next to me noticed my embarrassment and said, ‘Who’s that – your sister?’ When I got home, I told Mam about that and it made her day.
 
Mam and me in Carlisle forest

Mam in our garden
 
She was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks after Jen and I were married and we were on our way to Malta for eighteen months; she held our daughter once, when she was three months old, and the cancer claimed her on 7 June 1976, aged 58.

I was at sea on HMS Mermaid at the time, the ship’s Petty Officer Writer, and received the signal about her death. Because my Mam was dead, Family Welfare couldn’t finance the flight on compassionate grounds, so I’d have to; however, before I could make arrangements, an extraordinary meeting was held by the ship’s welfare committee and they voted to pay the funds for my flight. I’d barely been on the ship three months and was humbled by this generous gesture. I flew from Gibraltar to UK and thence northwards to attend the funeral. My return to Gibraltar a few days later was uneventful, save that the ship was no longer there, it had been called out on a Subsunk exercise in the Med. By their very nature, these exercises are unplanned. The ship has to set sail at once, allowing very little time to recall crew legitimately ashore, so often a handful of crew might not be found by patrols and announcements before the warship casts off. The ship’s next port of call was Malta, so I had to fly back to UK and then on to Malta, since there were no direct flights.

Later, a rose was planted in the garden of remembrance and Dad regularly painted its plaque. By the time it was his turn to shuffle off this mortal coil in 2000, it was no longer permitted to plant anything in remembrance; maintenance cutbacks, perhaps...
 
Rest in peace, Mam.

Sunday, 4 May 2014

Reminiscences - A lifetime on Zulu

A lifetime ago, it seems now. And, reviewing the distance travelled, the places visited, and the experiences gained over that draft of two and a half years, it seems like it was a lifetime onboard.

I joined HMS Zulu, my first seagoing RN ship, in April 1967 while she was undergoing refit in Rosyth. This was in the days when the Royal Navy was much larger than at present and their ships travelled the world, calling in at many ports. Different, nowadays, I know…
 
 
We sailed for Portsmouth on 29 April, 1967. We then went to Portland for a week’s trials, visited Amsterdam, my first foreign port call, though I had been abroad with a school trip on MS Dunera, visiting Vigo, Lisbon and Jersey. Then we went to Greenock, Glasgow, Douglas in the Isle of Man, Liverpool, Llandudno, Swansea, and back to Portsmouth on 10 June. Yes, we got about in those days. It wasn’t just plain sailing, of course; between destinations we’d be undergoing training, Action Stations and all manner of drills. [Action Stations, drills, Work Up all deserve separate blogs, believe me.] And of course we worked weekends and the weather wasn’t always docile as we crossed oceans and seas.

The ship had a ship’s magazine, roughly 8 sheets of foolscap, printed from Gestetner skins with contributions from the crew. The magazine was called Warrior and I inherited it from my predecessor, though I wasn’t the editor, (the Captain’s secretary, a sub Lieutenant was the editor); I was just the sub-editor and typist then…
 
 
This was the masthead I designed; published every Saturday at sea. [Perhaps some snippets will crop up in this blog in later months…] There was recreation time, naturally, Sundays if not on duty. And there were film nights – Zulu was on permanent loan to the ship and we viewed it often. [You can read about this film here]

A whole day at Portsmouth and then we went to Rotterdam for four days, Portsmouth, Bangor in Northern Ireland – we became the ‘ship at the bottom of the street’.
 
'Ship at the bottom of the street', Bangor, NI - from the Spectator newspaper
 
Thence to Hartlepool, Rosyth, Portsmouth, Portland in February 1968 until 3 April – Work Up, during which time we were worked hard. There followed Rosyth, Bootle, Cardiff, Portland, Penzance, Greenock, Campbeltown, Greenock, Fairlie, and Rosyth.

The advantage with being on a ship was that wherever you travelled, all your gear, everything travelled with you – unlike the mobile units of the Army or Air Force.

Sailing from Rosyth, we arrived in Gibraltar on 8 July 1968; my first visit, though not my last, here. Approaching the Rock from the sea is captivating, a beautiful even romantic sight.

Two days later we arrived in Malta. Little did I know how much this famous island would figure in my later life! That was just for a day’s sojourn, however. Then we were off to Izmir, Turkey and stayed for two days. While we were in the Mediterranean, monitoring the Soviet warships, among other things, Malta became our base of operations, so we kept popping in and out, staying for the one day, mostly. Naturally, as we had onboard duties, there was no question of going ashore on every occasion. These stays were scheduled for stores, new personnel and fuelling, among other things.
 
We visited Elba, one of Napoleon Bonaparte’s homes-in-exile; a beautiful island, then Kavalla, Greece, with its gorgeous unspoiled beach, and after a final stopover at Malta, on to Gibraltar, arriving 5 September. As this was a slightly longer stay, I joined some shipmates on an MFV across to Tangier, taking in the sights, including the suk and camel-riding! We sailed from Gibraltar four days’ later, arriving in Portland for a couple of days, then on to Den Helder for an official visit, and back up to Rosyth for three weeks, to allow personnel to get some leave in.
 
Then it was back to Portland on 21 October, Gibraltar for a day, Malta for four days; here, I toured the island using the local bus system. Then on to Naples; sadly, Vesuvius was clouded over but Pompeii was so memorable, even to this day, and of course since then more excavation has occurred.
Pompeii - Vesuvius in background...

There followed a brief official 4-day visit to Nice, where I attended a church service (that was all I was permitted ashore since I was growing a beard and it wasn’t quite presentable).
 
We docked in Portsmouth 4 December for a day, then went to Rosyth for a lay-off and seasonal leave break (ship maintenance), though of course personnel had to be there on duty over the period.

A new year and new ports of call. Portsmouth for four days or so, then on to St Helena (felt as though we were following Boney – visited his attractive villa, (where the wallpaper purportedly poisoned him), then on to Durban (apartheid still much in evidence, a visit of mixed feelings, beautiful country, and saw Zulus too), then on the Beira Patrol blockading Ian Smith’s regime, stopping off at Mombasa for seven days in March, then we sailed for Mahé in the Seychelles, an idyllic island, though only there for two days, followed by a three week stay at Bahrain where we met up with the RAF personnel stationed there, enjoying their bar facilities and swimming pool (I almost got roped in to go for the Guinness Book of Records for typing).  After this, it was Muscat, Bahrain, and across the ocean to Karachi.
 
The ship stayed in Karachi for five days and for the long weekend I and a handful of other chosen few were selected to fly up to Islamabad as guests of the diplomatic corps serving there. We ended up being driven along the Khyber Pass to the border with Afghanistan – a fair portion of that is narrated in Under the Queen’s Colours - see here

After Karachi, back to Bahrain, Dubai, Doha, Colombo, Ceylon [now Sri Lanka] (another beautiful island). We left Colombo on 21 August and four days later we arrived at Singapore, where we stayed at the dockyard for almost a month while the ship underwent maintenance and local leave was taken. Exotic smells, food and weather – clockwork rain, no less!

Thence on to Yokohama for a week and to Hong Kong for two weeks, then Singapore. I flew back to UK from Singapore (my draft completed, already scheduled to join HMS Dolphin (Flag Officer Submarines) in Gosport; I was tasked with taking the masters of our ship’s commission book to the Portsmouth printers, having been a sub-editor on this project. (The ship went on to Durban, then Portsmouth and arrived in Rosyth 21 December.)

A memorable and in many ways remarkable two-and-a-half years.

 

Saturday, 2 November 2013

Make a date - November 2, 9, 22 and 30

Some time ago I published a regular monthly magazine column linking a set selection of dates in history. The series was popular. I'm busy coordinating the articles into book form. As today is 2 November, here are a number of linked events for that date plus three other November dates. To avoid repetition, I've simply indicated the relevant date in brackets. Apologies for the length of this entry!
The three dates for this article are:

2, 9, 22 and 30 November

This time, since I live in Spain, let’s begin by looking at some anniversaries that relate to Spanish-speaking people or their countries. One of my favourite composers is Joaquin Rodrigo, who was born (22) in 1901; the premiere of his famous ‘Concierto de Aranjuez’ took place (9) in Barcelona in 1940. [He died in July, 1999 and a nation mourned this socialist composer of the people.]

The rather spooky ‘Day of the Dead’ - el dia de los muertos - is held in Mexico to celebrate dead ancestors (2). On All Saints Day (1) they generally honour the dead children - angelitos, little angels; All Souls Day (2) is the turn of the adults when families gather round their family burial plots and eat special food, offering to the departed too. And of course there are fireworks.

In 1966 the Cuban Adjustment Act came into force (2), allowing 123,000 Cubans the opportunity to apply for permanent residence in the US. This was four years to the day after the end of the Cuban Missile Crisis (2) when Kennedy announced that the Soviet nuclear missiles were being withdrawn from Cuba.

Gibraltar was captured from Spain in 1704 and subsequently was under siege several times afterwards. The Treaty of Seville in 1729 was signed (9) by France, Spain and England and confirmed that England owned Gibraltar. Political self-serving skirmishes occur from time to time, as has happened recently, regarding the sovereignty of the Rock.
Gibraltar
 
In 1975 Juan Carlos was declared King of Spain (22) following the death of the dictator Francisco Franco and, as we know, in the following years Spain has undergone a remarkable transformation.

At the Cabildo building in New Orleans in 1803, the Spanish representatives officially transferred the Louisiana Territory to the French representative (30) and twenty days later France transferred the same land to the US as the Louisiana Purchase.

France got rid of other places as well, whether Charles de Gaulle liked it or not: he was born (22) in 1890 and was President of France from 1958 to 1969; he was certainly a mite taller than many of his successors! In 1943 Lebanon (22) became independent from France, as did Cambodia (9) ten years later.

Other land changed hands or identity this month in history too. Barbados (30) became independent in 1966 and a year later the People's Republic of South Yemen became independent, both from the UK.

As far back as 1917 the Balfour Declaration proclaimed support (2) for the Jewish settlement in Palestine. The United States gained (9) rights to Pearl Harbour in Hawaii in 1887 and eventually became the fiftieth state in 1959.

Of course John F Kennedy, the thirty-fifth president of the US, was assassinated (22) this month in 1963, in Dallas, Texas, ostensibly by Lee Harvey Oswald. As it will be fifty years ago, I imagine there will be much discussion about this and the subsequent conspiracy theories. Those of us who were old enough will always remember the grainy film and newsflash, as potent an image as the much later Twin Towers atrocities.
JFK - assassination - 22 November 1963

All brought to us by the immediacy of television. In fact the BBC started (2) the world's first regular high-definition television service in 1936.

Two of the biggest early TV stars were Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, who were married (30) in 1940; there were 180 episodes of the I Love Lucy show, starting in 1951.

In 1974 a rather older Lucy was discovered in Ethiopia (30) - a 3.18 million years’ old female hominid, Australopithecus. About 40% of her skeleton was found and it was estimated she died aged twenty-five. The skeleton was christened ‘Lucy’ because on the night of the discovery, during the celebrations, the Beatles’ ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’ was played repeatedly. The name stuck.

Six years earlier, the Beatles released (22) The White Album and one of the tracks was ‘Back in the USSR.’

Once-communist Czechoslovakia is proud of one of its greatest athletes, Emil Zátopek.
Emil Zátopek, one of my father's heroes

In the 1948 Olympics he won the 10,000m race. The following year he broke the 10,000m world record twice and in the 1952 Olympics in Helsinki he won gold for the 5,000m and 10,000m races and the marathon, the first time he'd attempted it; he broke Olympic records in all three events. While an ardent communist, he advocated reform and supported the Prague Spring so was ultimately sent to work in a uranium mine as punishment. He died (22) in Prague in 2000.

Communist-controlled East Germany opened the checkpoints in the Berlin Wall in 1989, allowing its citizens to travel freely to West Germany (9). Ten years earlier, Pink Floyd released (30) their famous rock opera, ‘The Wall.’

Another wall came tumbling down – the wall of an Egyptian tomb – in 1922. Howard Carter and Lord Carnarvon opened the last resting place of Tutankhamen, untouched for three thousand years (22).
 
Perhaps walls didn't fall for the Countryside and Rights of Way Act that came into force (30) in the UK in 2000, but it provides for greater access to moor, heath and common land than hitherto. Not that the idea is original – Sweden has given free access to all land for years.

Swedish King Christian II executed (9) over a hundred nobles in 1520 in what is known as the Stockholm Bloodbath. Christian II of Denmark successfully invaded Sweden and, despite declaring an amnesty, ordered the execution of all the nobility and clergy who opposed him. Swedish soprano Jenny Lind was born in 1820 and after touring with the showman P T Barnum, she was dubbed the ‘Swedish Nightingale.’ She was a great hit with Queen Victoria and became a philanthropist, living her later years in Great Malvern, Worcestershire, where she died (2) and was buried in 1887.

On the same day (2) in 1961 the Canadian singer k d lang was born while the female singer Dorothy Dandridge was born (9) in 1923. Dandridge went on to star in Carmen Jones, Porgy and Bess and Island in the Sun. She lapsed into alcoholism and died from barbiturate poisoning, aged forty-one with about two dollars in her bank account.
Dorothy Dandridge

Where would singers be without lyricists? Lorenz Hart died (22) in 1943 and was the writer of the words for Richard Rodgers’ musicals, such as Babes in Arms whose songs included ‘Johnny One Note’, ‘The Lady is a Tramp’ and ‘My Funny Valentine’ and ‘A Connecticut Yankee’, based on the book by Mark Twain, who was born (30) as Samuel Clemens in 1835.
 
The following year, the British politician Lord Frederick Cavendish was born (30). A protégé of Gladstone, he was appointed Chief Secretary of Ireland and almost on arrival in that post he was assassinated by the ‘Irish National Invincibles’ in Dublin’s Phoenix Park in 1882.

In fact, November is an interesting month for British politicians. Prime Ministers Ramsay MacDonald and Neville Chamberlain died on the same day (9), in 1937 and 1940 respectively. And Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher resigned (22) in 1990.
 
Possibly our greatest Prime Minister, Sir Winston Churchill was born (30) in 1874. Serving in the Nile Expeditionary Force in 1898 he fought hand - to hand with the Dervishes at Omdurman. Later, acting as a London newspaper correspondent in the Boer War, he was captured and escaped with a £25 price on his head.
 
In 1899 the Boers started (2) their 118-day siege of the British town of Ladysmith, the town being named after the Spanish wife of Sir Henry Smith, the British general governor of Cape Colony.

Africa is an immense and beautiful continent that has been torn apart by warfare and slavery for centuries. More recently however there was the massacre in 2002 in Nigeria (22) when over a hundred people were killed in an attack aimed at the Miss World contest.
 
Africa was referred to as the Dark Continent, somewhere for intrepid explorers to investigate, while risking their lives. They didn’t come more intrepid than Sir Martin Frobisher, roaming the seas for new discoveries and booty from Spanish galleons. Wounded at the siege of Crozon near Brest, he was brought back to Plymouth where he died (22) in 1594.
 
Forty-nine years later Robert Cavelier de La Salle was born (22). He was a French cleric and explorer who ranged over the Great Lakes region, the Mississippi River, the Gulf of Mexico and claimed the entire Mississippi basin for France. He must have turned in his grave when the Louisiana Purchase went through for fifteen million dollars, less than three cents an acre. If you scan a gazetteer of North America you’ll find many townships named after La Salle. During one of La Salle's expeditions he lost several ships to pirates.
 
One of the most notorious pirates in the Caribbean was Blackbeard, Edward Teach, who died on the same day (22) as Frobisher, in 1718: a Royal Naval sloop engaged the pirates and Blackbeard was stabbed a score of times and killed in the fighting, his head subsequently seen hanging from the sloop’s bowsprit. In 1996 Blackbeard's ship was discovered off North Carolina.

Then there’s Captain Vallo, the fictitious pirate played by Burt Lancaster in the film The Crimson Pirate, a 1952 light-hearted adventure involving prison breaks, battles, lots of sword-play and Lancaster's considerable athletic skill. Burton Stephen Lancaster was born (2) in 1913. Another fun adventure film of his was His Majesty O'Keefe.
Burt Lancaster in The Crimson Pirate

In 1541 Her Majesty Catherine Howard was demoted from her position as Queen (22) and confined to her rooms, being charged with adultery with Thomas Culpepper. Having been tortured, Culpepper confessed and he was executed, his head staying on a spike on London Bridge until 1546. Catherine went to London Tower and was beheaded in February 1542.

London’s Crystal Palace, built for the 1851 Great Exhibition, was destroyed (30) in a fire in 1936, twenty years after the death (22) of Jack London, the author of the classics The Sea-Wolf, The Call of the Wild and White Fang. He was a socialist and wrote about the poor of London in The People of the Abyss.
 
Another writer with a conscience, notably in The Travels of Gulliver, was Jonathan Swift. He generally employed criticism by means of satire. This Irish writer was born (30) in 1667, the same day as Irishman Oscar Wilde died in 1900.

We’ve all heard of Anne Frank’s Diary, but there is another Dutch girl who wrote a diary too - Etty Hillesum. In her family, knowledge was admired and she often cut back on food in order to buy books. In March 1941, a year after the German occupation of Holland, she started her diary while helping Jews at the internment camp there. In September 1943 she and her family were sent to Auschwitz, where she was killed (30). Her letters and most of her diaries were saved and published after the war.
 
An Austrian actress who hated the Nazis was Hedwig Eva Maria Kiesler. Born (9) in 1913, she was notorious for the first nude scene in films in the 1933 Czech movie Ecstasy. When she moved to America in 1937, she changed her name to Hedy Lamar and seemed to exude sexuality in Samson and Delilah with Victor Mature.
Hedy Lemar (9 November 1914 – 19 January 2000)
 
Hedy Lemar also co-invented an important technology for radio communications called ‘frequency hopping’, a secret communications system involving the use of carrier waves of different frequencies, initially to aid remote-controlled torpedoes against the Nazis. This system also proved difficult to discover or decipher. Nowadays, this is ‘spread spectrum’ wireless communication, used by GPS devices, cordless and wireless phones.
 
I’d better hang up now.

 

Thursday, 3 October 2013

Moor about Spain

Today, I’m discussing in brief a 2004 non-fiction book entitled Andalus by Jason Webster. The sub-heading of this book is Unlocking the secrets of Moorish Spain and it’s a follow-up of his first book Duende: a journey in search of flamenco which became an acclaimed big seller. Having studied Arabic in Oxford, Webster lived for several years in Italy and Egypt then went to Spain to learn to play the flamenco guitar; he now lives in Valencia with his Spanish wife.



Like many Hispanophiles, he’s had a long-lasting fascination with the Moorish past of this country, whether triggered by the sublime Alhambra in Granada, the dramatic and beautiful Great Mosque in Cordoba or the surprising number of Arabic root words in the Spanish language. Gibraltar which the Spanish vociferously and with inept politicians insist is theirs could realistically be claimed by Morocco or other North African countries – after all, it’s named after a Moor – jabal Tariq – the mountain of Tariq, the first Arab to conquer Spain.

For eight centuries Christians, Muslims and Jews lived and worked side by side. It was a period of great cultural and artistic blossoming. The Moors in Spain had the first universities, the first paper factories and the first street lighting in the whole of Europe. The Arabs learned paper-making from the Chinese artisans on capturing Samarkand. Indeed, the Moors first crossed the Strait to Spain in the Dark Ages, at about the same time as Bede was writing his History. At the time Spain was under Visigothic rule, the German tribes having moved in and taken over as the Roman Empire collapsed.

‘Moor’ was the term used to describe Muslims in Spain – Arabs, Berbers, Syrians, Persians and eventually Spaniards; it originated from the Latin maurus, which had been used to refer to North Africans.

Eventually the Christian Reconquest started to bite and in 1492 the Moors were expelled from what had become their country. What followed was religious intolerance, epitomised by the Inquisition. In modern Spain now annual ‘Moors and Christians’ fiestas occur in many towns and cities; these are noisy, colourful and quite spectacular events.

Two hundred years before the Reconquest, Arabic scholars translated great medical and mathematical works from the original Greek. By way of the Reconquest many of these works were translated into Latin, notably in Toledo. It could even be argued that the Arabic learning laid the foundations of the later Renaissance.

Webster was curious to see how the Moorish influence persisted even to this day, beyond these fiestas – ironically at a time when the Spanish government is having difficulty stemming the tide of illegal immigrants from Morocco and North African ports.

He read an old legend about Musa the Moor, the richest, strongest and most powerful caliph in ancient Spain. As the Christian armies were advancing, Musa asked his friendly jinn to safeguard his riches – which he did by turning them into stone in a special cave; but Musa’s daughter Zoraida didn’t want to flee, so she was turned into a tree outside the cave. But for one day in every year, as spring arrives, Princess Zoraida comes back to life and all the Caliph’s riches gleam and shine again. Only for one day the spell is broken. Webster was enchanted by this tale and wondered if, like the Caliph’s riches, much of the Moorish heritage was hidden from view, only waiting to be discovered.

The book begins with Webster incognito under the plastic sheeting of a fruit farm, doing some journalistic research on the illegal immigrants working in appalling conditions. Because they’re illegal, the immigrants are locked up at night and monitored by guards; they get no pay, only food and cramped sleeping quarters. Slavery was alive and well, it seemed. Then he was discovered and had to flee, aided by a young Moroccan called Zine. They got away but Webster now felt beholden to Zine and attempted to find work for him – a difficult task when he had no papers. [This short episode inspired me for a sequence in my Blood of the Dragon Trees].
Amazon.co.uk - http://goo.gl/fsLk3X
Amazon.com - http://goo.gl/wHQpQp
 
Accompanied by his own modern-day Moor for most of his journey of discovery, Webster meets a number of fascinating characters in Cordoba, Murcia, Almeria and Seville, among other southern Spain and Portugeuse towns. There’s an amusing visit to a clinica de enfermedades sexuales in Seville; however, I could have done without the over-long surreal Christmas party in a Valencia disco. On the way he reminds us of the Moorish legacy in the language – many words beginning with ‘a’ or ‘al’ have Arabic roots, whether English or Spanish: ‘Cotton’ – algodon in Spanish – comes from the Arabic al-qutun, for example.

Webster has an observant eye and a deceptively easy writing style which enliven a fascinating quick tour round the Moorish history via modern-day towns and cities of Spain.

Since writing Andalus, Webster has produced three detective novels featuring Chief Inspector Max Camara in Valencia: Or the Bulls Kill You, A Death in Valencia, and The Anarchist Detective.