There is no more need for restaurants. I dont remember the last time I ate at a restaurant (shh! Igor), Maybe a chinese one in Orgiva a month ago. Since then is been a delicious array of open fires, soup kitchens and more recently hotel-made raw food. In Granada frequenting comedores with a small gang of cave-dwellers and our dogs. The city wrapped its cobbled streets fast around me for five days until I escaped one lowered radiation waved morning and flew south to the coast in search of my father again. I landed in Tarifa and was feeding off scaps of things a Moroccan and Polack scavenged and threw on a grill behind a shoddy stone house. Then two days later I hit the beach loaded up with store-bought products just in time for my dads birthday and my open-fired feasts from India, Thailand and Spain.
I made the decision to go to Morocco and to my surprise my dad decided to join. But of course, as is his slow easy-going style we made a few stops along the way. First stop: a devious bunker next to the beach where its inhabitant, an amiable Slovenian lurked at the endof a dark passageway with enchanting end of the world conversation and some excellent spicy tomato soup. The next day we bused it to Gibraltar and there I couldn’t resist fish and chips on the street following a hot soup kitchen meal of paella and bread served with English humour. These places are almost addictive and full of fellow low-budget travellers. We spent the next day on the boat surviving on crusty bread and tuna into Ceuta in Northern Africa, crossing the border by foot and walking most of the day down the Mediteranean coastline of the mysterious land of Morocco.
The very first evening we were welcomed by a Moroccan family with two lovely little children. The wife prepared some traditional lentil soup followed by mint tea and desserts. I taught the kids a little yoga and made a list of spices to add to Asia Here! We said goodbye the next morning and walked further down the coast stopping in another small town that all taxis skip. We rested for three days in a pension with a balconey over-looking the busy center and there I decided to start practicing the art of raw food.
Every morning we have been eating Kollath breakfast which is so simple it seems silly to even explain it and almost baffling that I have never discovered it sooner. It consists of whole wheat flour soaked in cold water overnight in one countainer and dried fruit like raisins, dates, figs, etc. soaked in another container. The next morning you drain the wheat and add the fruit and their liquid along with nuts and fresh fruit and lemon juice from one lemon. Delicious and the healthiest breakie I have ever devoured.
Yesterday we arrived in the big city of Tetuan with old winding labyrinth market full of every ingredient on the planet. So we started making Cus Cus for dinner. The soaking time is spell-binding. Zithin five minutes we have a cold tabouli. So next time I come around ask me about either my Ayurvedic or Raw Food lessons. I am now 100 percent gas-free, self-sufficient with no need for any restaurants, take-aways or begging. Better not tell stove or gas companies about this one, imagine if everyone realized that the key to health lay in their own hands with just a bowl, a knife and the most accesible items known to man. Ah water, what divinely inspired simplicity.
