Last night I left behind thoughts of Morocco and my head went to Afghanistan. I went to help out at a reception to celebrate 30 years of Afghanaid's work in that country. In a gallery off Tottenham Court Road they have a fabulous selection of photos of Afghans at work - cleaning water, building bridges, working on Singer sewing machines, and learning about emergency aid solutions: all projects initiated and financed by Afghanaid. 

I wore a Pashtun hat and spent the evening trying to persuade people either to a) buy the book or b) enter the London Marathon next year for Afghanaid (we still have places if anyone interested!) 


The Afghan Ambassador to the UK opened the exhibition officially. I was surprised when he identified himself: he wore a tweed jacket and seemed very scholarly - he wouldn't have looked out of place as the librarian in Ealing Town Hall. His 'escort' - a large burly man in a thick overcoat - disappeared as soon as he was safely inside . Probably essential these days. 


There were a lot of stiff, grey-haired Army types who knew the country like the back of their hands, but there were also a lot of young arty people who were very good value and very enthusiastic about the Marathon ... so, I made a few recruits and then spent the tail end of the evening on some curious Afghan canapes (dates filled with marzipan and nuts?) and a few rather un-Afghan glasses of Sauvignon ... 


Back to Morocco tomorrow!