Insect Mini-Series - ARMOURED GROUND CRICKET

It had been an exceptionally busy night, spent in the company of a virgin.

He had gone in search of a mate the previous evening, working hard to attract female attention by rubbing his wings together – or stridulating if you want to get technical.

He rejected several plump females who responded to his calls, for the wily Armoured Ground Cricket knew that virgin crickets were slender little beauties. 

Morocco

Why a preference for a virgin? Because a first timer will mate once and lay her eggs, whereas the old pros mate and lay their eggs randomly. By sticking to the svelte virgins, he knew that a higher proportion of her offspring would be his.

When a slim young thing eventually turned up, he stridulated ardently and offered her his nuptial gift of a food sack together with his sperm pouch. She proved receptive and he carefully attached the spermatophore close to her genital opening. Job done.

However, having lost around 20% of his body weight, he needed to replenish his energy levels. It was sunrise. He staggered off in search of a meal. His appetite was eclectic, but he was partial to bird nestlings and headed across the desert scrub towards some likely looking shrubs.

In his weakened state, progress was slow, making him vulnerable. At almost 3 inches long, detection by predators was difficult to avoid. 

Gecko, Morocco

When the gecko attacked and grabbed him, the cricket mobilised his defences and autohaemorrhaged, squirting pale green, acrid smelling blood into the gecko’s face. The predator immediately dropped him and scurried off in disgust.

The cricket climbed wearily onto a black rubber car tyre, perhaps in a bid to camouflage itself.

Armoured Ground Cricket, Morocco

When the humans began to show an interest in him, he watched and waited. He didn’t have it in him to autohaemorrhage again, but if that finger moved any closer he would unleash his final defence mechanism and vomit up his last meal all over it.

I hope you enjoyed this latest offering - do leave a comment me. See you in a couple of weeks.

Insect Mini-Series : CARPENTER BEE

I'm preparing for the Cork Literary Festival which kicks off this weekend and I'm short of time, so here's a post from last year which most of you won't have seen.

Carpenter Bee, Morocco

It was his nature to be solitary. 

He flitted from flower to flower. Always searching, always feeding, always alone. No hive for the likes of him.

Something.

He paused between the flowers, testing the air for intruders.

Uncertain, he hovered, turning first one way, then the other. A vibration ruffled his iridescent navy blue wings. It was barely perceptible, yet it sparked a need, a longing, an imperative.

He turned a full circle, perplexed. The vibration receded.

A scent distracted his attention. He descended to land on the thistle’s purple flower head. He crawled into position and probed until his proboscis found the channel leading to the nectar.

Now the vibration interrupted his feeding again, so subtle he almost missed it. The imperative strengthened.

What?

He lifted away from the thistle and turned to face the disturbance. A distant shape was coming towards him. The imperative overcame his instinct to flee. Instead he flew directly towards the shape, his body humming and pulsing in bewilderment and excitement.

The shape coalesced into another Carpenter bee and when he reached her his confusion dissolved.

Their tiny bodies briefly joined in fleeting harmony, the imperative to mate overcoming their shy dispositions.

She immediately began to search for suitable wood in which to drill and lay her eggs. He dutifully followed. Soon he would have a nest to guard.

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Do let me know if you've enjoyed this and whether you'd like to read more from my Insect Mini-Series. See you next week.

ON THE ROAD SURPRISES - Part 3

When it comes to travel surprises some countries offer richer pickings than others. Morocco is a good example of a country that offers a wealth of surprises. During our road trip I was regularly delighted by the unexpected forms of transport sharing the parking facilities.

We stopped for lunch next to this 'parked' camel.

Later we pulled up by this little donkey.

At a fuel stop we found this horse waiting patiently for its owner.

Donkeys were placed in an overflow 'car park' on this football pitch.

And finally....

Well, the sign is clearly marked P for Parking!

Do let me know if you've enjoyed this post. Thank you.

OUZOUD - MOROCCO Part 3 - Market Mini-Series

Ouzoud in the Atlas mountains of Morocco is famous for its waterfalls - the Cascades d'Ouzoud. 

 Whilst the Cascades are a stunning sight, I'm going to focus on the market I visited in Ouzoud instead.

The area for cars to park was limited compared to the utterly delightful donkey parking, set within a glorious, shady olive grove.

Overflow donkey parking was also available on the football pitch.

The market setting by the river was serene and beautiful.




Vendors had erected awnings to protect their produce - and themselves - from the searing sun. The comforting smell from the slowly warming fruits and vegetables was strangely reminiscent of the kitchen of my childhood. 

The pumpkins in particular smelled gorgeous.

The relaxed atmosphere was palpable and the locals were more than happy to allow me to take their photograph.

The meat section was strategically shaded and whilst I didn't fancy one of those unrefrigerated turkeys, fortunately there was no whiff of tainted meat. 

I was slightly surprised that it seemed to be only men who were doing the shopping. 

Although there were plenty of women doing the selling!

Some of the children were taking market day seriously.

Others less so.













So there you have my experiences of Moroccan markets, in three parts. I haven't decided where to take you next week - watch this space.

ARMOURED GROUND CRICKET - Insect Mini-Series

Story number 7 in my insect mini-series

Morocco

It had been an exceptionally busy night, spent in the company of a virgin.

He had gone in search of a mate yesterday evening, working hard to attract female attention by rubbing his wings together – or stridulating if you want to get technical.

He rejected several plump females who responded to his calls, for the wily Armoured Ground Cricket knew that virgin crickets were slender little beauties.

Why a preference for a virgin? Because a first timer will mate once and lay her eggs, whereas the old pros mate and lay their eggs randomly. By sticking to the svelte virgins, he knew that a higher proportion of the offspring would be his.

Ouzoud, Morocco

When a slim young thing eventually turned up last night, he stridulated ardently and offered her his nuptial gift of a food sack together with his sperm pouch. She proved receptive and he carefully attached the spermatophore close to her genital opening. 

Job done.

However, having lost around 20% of his body weight, he needed to replenish his energy levels. It was sunrise. 

He staggered off in search of a meal. His appetite was eclectic, but he was partial to bird nestlings and headed across the desert scrub towards some likely looking shrubs.

In his weakened state, progress was slow, making him vulnerable. At almost 3 inches long, detection by predators was difficult to avoid.

When the lizard attacked and grabbed him, the cricket mobilised his defences and autohaemorrhaged, squirting pale green, acrid smelling blood into the lizard’s face. The predator immediately dropped him and scurried off in disgust.

Armoured Ground Cricket, Morocco

 The cricket climbed wearily onto a black rubber car tyre, perhaps in a bid to camouflage itself.

When the humans started to show an interest in him, he watched and waited. He didn’t have it in him to autohaemorrage again, but if that finger moved any closer he would unleash his final defence mechanism and vomit up his last meal all over it.

Using travel encounters as inspiration

You don’t have to be a freelance travel writer to keep your eyes open for the unusual or the unexpected when you’re away from home.

One of the joys of travel is seeing things that take you by surprise. It can be a rich source of inspiration for any kind of story telling.

Here’s an example of something I saw when I was touring Morocco in a Motorhome.

Did I use the encounter in my writing? You bet I did!

Here’s an extract:

On the way to our latest site at Ouarzazate we were driving through a magnificent stark red and ochre land flanked by mountains, when we passed a chap buried almost up to his chest in the sand. We did a double-take and stopped. I jumped out and walked towards the half-buried man, calling out to ask if he was OK. He looked slightly bewildered, but calm enough. Another chap popped out of nowhere, explaining that his chum was buried in the hot sand to help his rheumatism. They offered to bury my husband too, which I thought was a good idea, but my other half declined.

This encounter also received a mention in a travel essay: Africa for Softies, published in the Writers Abroad anthology: Foreign and Far Away

http://www.amazon.co.uk/FOREIGN-FAR-AWAY-Writers-Abroad/dp/1492762008/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1433540954&sr=1-1&keywords=foreign+and+far+away

Meantime, I'm off travelling in Europe for a couple of weeks, so I'll be on the lookout for more interesting photo opportunities...