Director Sally Dunsmore and other members of the team behind the hugely popular literary festivals in Oxford and at Blenheim Palace transferred last weekend to the southern tip of the Iberian peninsular to lend their skills at a new three-day celebration of books in Gibraltar. The conspicuous success of the pioneer Gibunco Gibraltar International Literary Festival has guaranteed there will be another, slightly later, in 2014 and further such events in the years to follow.

Big-name ‘acts’ at the festival venues, selected to show the architectural beauties of this British Overseas Territory, included historians Antony Beevor and Norman Stone, broadcasters Kate Adie and Peter Snow, the award-winning novelists Joanne Harris and Ben Okri, and the celebrated foodies Ken Hom and Madhur Jaffrey. The Oxford Times was represented by the present writer who felt honoured to be in such distinguished company.

Among those lending their support was the Governor, Vice Admiral Sir Adrian Johns, who hosted a Saturday night dinner at his residence, The Convent. The menu (prawn à la maison, chicken grand-mère and roulade au chocolate) recreated the meal served to Her Majesty the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh on their Royal Visit of 1954.

At St Michael’s Cave high up in the Rock, which the royal couple also visited during their post-Coronation tour, we enjoyed the seafood spread you can see in the photograph above, with ragout of beef to follow. Our enjoyment of the wine was only mildly impaired by its dilution with water dripping from the stalagmites in this amazing natural structure.

At the closing dinner on Sunday, in the Caleta Hotel, I was privileged to meet the Chief Minister, Fabian Picardo MP, who told me with affection of his student days reading law at Oriel College, Oxford. He was particularly touched by its decision to fly the Gibraltarian flag there on his election two years ago.

The Caleta was home to Rosemarie and me during the five-day trip, my first to Gibraltar. Built in the 1960s, it enjoys a stunning setting, with views in one direction towards the Rock and, in the other, over sun-dappled sea, still warm enough to swim in, even so late in October. A series of inter-connecting terraces lead down towards a beach and a row of restaurants and cafes behind. At one of these, two hours after our arrival, I ordered a fish platter which featured quite enough to feed a family of four. It cost only £12, a reflection of how far money goes here (as shiploads of cruise visitors recognise as they dive into the many shops selling low-tax jewellery and booze).

Mention of family feeding reminds me of the appearance on our terrace one afternoon of a trio of the Rock’s famous Barbary apes. Father cheekily entered the room above ours through an open window and emerged a couple of minutes later with — monkey heaven! — a bunch of bananas, which he proceeded to share with mum and junior.

On Thursday, many of the festival participants crossed into Spain and continued, on a 40-minute voyage from the port of Tarifa, into Morocco. A coach-ride along the coast from Tangier took us to the point — with hundreds of wind-turbines bristling in the hills above — where the Mediterranean and Atlantic meet. We returned for an amazing buffet lunch at Tangier’s legendary El Minzah Hotel, and later a guided tour through the souk, during which many bargains (alleged) were obtained, though none by me who is utterly unskilled at haggling.

On Sunday, having declined Ben Okri’s invitation to join him in a hike to the top of the Rock (he later admitted I’d been wise to do so), I ascended by cable car. This brought further close encounters with light-fingered apes and some great views, including one straight down on to our hotel.

Our last port of call, before the Monarch flight home to Luton, was the Trafalgar Cemetery, described to me as a ‘must’ by Peter Snow, who lived in Gibraltar as a boy. Here the many tombstones with their touching inscriptions recall maritime engagements with a nation that is still causing trouble to us two centuries later.

Like so much that is wonderful in life, the literary festival would not have happened (or happened so well) without the generosity of its sponsors. Gibunco, which is celebrated in the name of the event, is a group that began life in 1965 as an underwater and ship repair company. Now it has evolved into a diverse organisation embracing petroleum, marine engineering, ship-owning, mechanical engineering, ship agency and property development.

Astonishingly generous, too, was the sponsorship of the supermarket chain Morrisons, which supplied the food and wine to all - yes, all  - of the principal festival dinners and a superb lunch at the Royal Gibraltar Yacht Club on Saturday cooked by Ken Hom. The company can certainly be said to have delivered what it promises in its slogan: "More of what matters."

My late mother was a huge fan of the company, driving 14 miles each week, aged 85, to their store in Stamford, Lincolnshire, for what she always considered the best supermarket food available.

Now that we have a Morrisons M local in Headington, as of last Monday, I shall be able to maintain the family tradition . . .