Contrary to the habit of the Brits, India does not do curry. No, it doesn’t exist. Kari does though. This is a small aromatic leaf used in Tamil cookery and just one of the numerous ingredients that make up their spicey masala sauce. By extension, kari also denotes a dish of dry masala-clad vegetables. India’s rich source of spices lies on the fertile slopes of the Western Ghats. It’s a lovely area to head for, cooler than the sticky coastline thanks to its altitude and close to wildlife parks such as Periyar. Elephants roam here when not hauling logs or taking a dip in the lake. In gastro terms this is where black pepper, cardamom, cinnamon, turmeric, nutmeg, cumin, ginger and others are grown - and where empires clashed back in the 16th and 17th centuries to gain control of the lucrative trade. It didn’t take long for the Malabar Coast to become a legend. Initially used for their medicinal properties, these spices then became used as appetite stimulators and digestive aids. Chills also enter the pot - unassuming-looking little red peppers which, like spices, help the body to cope with hot external temperatures by firing it up internally. 

Mint, fig, cinnamon, preserved lemon, purple olives, toasted almonds – then moist succulent lamb that drops off the bone, slow-cooked to heaven. Each element has a clear, strong voice – and that is so typical of Moroccan cuisine. Morocco’s gastro-offerings are legion, and nearly all mix salty-sour with sweet (sometimes too much so) in a seductive, multi-layered composition. Then there are the pastries, dripping honey or syrup and filled with pistachios or almond paste. Waistlines have a hard time. Luckily there are also little salad appetisers, quite delicious, that multiplied up can make a very respectable (light) supper. Couscous of course can’t be ignored, but the Moroccans themselves generally only eat it once a week on Friday, their sabbath.

Valladolid, in northern Castile, is the hub of a highly productive wine region that for foreigners has always been overshadowed by neighbouring Rioja. For Spaniards, however, it’s a been an enduring love affair, as the much prized Duero wines were regularly quaffed by the Hapsburg kings back in the 16th century. Coursing through Old Castile, the Duero river combines with chalky soil and wildly fluctuating temperatures to nurture some of Spain’s stellar reservas. Rueda (white), Cigales (rosé and red), Toro (red) and the smooth yet potent Ribera (red) all originate here. One of the oldest bodega labels, Vega Sicilia, has been described by a British wine-writer as “on a Wagnerian scale of subtlety and complexity”. Beat that if you can. Altogether there are some 200 bodegas in this part of Castile and no shortage of eponymous castles, as the Duero river was once the frontline between the Christians and the Moors in the lengthy “reconquest”.