by Tim Anderson

Bar Etiquette
You might find yourself wading through a sea of paper napkins and peanut shells on the floor. All the while the owner is smiling like a Cheshire cat, until you sit at the bar get out your wallet and ask for a coffee and he promptly turns his attitude into an arctic freeze. The ice age continues when you refuse the complimentary tapas that were offered with your beer, even though you try to explain that you have just eaten the equivalent amount of the average sumo wrestler. The classic mistakes of the tourist ‘fresh off the boat’.
Don’t be overawed with the sea of shells. It´s a sign that the bar is popular and so most owners will let it pile up a little before getting someone to sweep it up. It also makes it a little easier if it’s all in the same place to pick it up more quickly.
When you go to order in Spain, there are two prices for most things in the bar, and they relate to whether you sit at the bar or sit at a table. The table is considered a much more refined and luxurious experience while a seat at the bar, with the noise of the orders going around you and the bartender buzzing about, is relatively nasty. As well, it´s easier for the bartender to see and serve you at the bar and make sure you are not taking a place in his establishment without ordering lots of his delicious offerings.
Put down the wallet! You may just be insulting the owner by suggesting there definitely wont be anything else you want to have while you are here. Wait, enjoy, see how you feel and don´t rush. All in good time, until you ask for ‘la cuenta por favor’ at the end.
Don’t refuse the tapas either. You don’t have to have it, but admire, nibble if you can. It’s more part of tradition and the experience rather than a necessity. Eat, don’t eat but let him give it to you. It doesn’t cost extra.

by Peter Moore

Number Fifteen – Audrey Hepburn: Moon River

Dies Lunae, lunes, lundi, Montag, or Monday. It’s the first day of our week, and in all of these languages (and a wheelbarrow load more) you don’t have to be a profound etymologist to realise that it is quite literally ‘day of the moon’.

It’s quite nice to have something to look up to, and the moon has been up there as long as we’ve had a head to tilt at it, circling mechanically around our planet without the faintest hint of boredom.

Of all the fixations of humankind the moon has to be the most enduring. Astrologers, scientists, philosophers and spiritualists have all for centuries been gazing at it through a telescope; legends roar that it is made of cheese; American presidents have carried elections with promises that they would stick a flag upon it, and art has been similarly touched by the great pockmarked nocturnal beacon that’s continuing to shine down upon us.

I’ll ignore the books, the films, the photographs, the medieval paintings, the sketches and the poems for this post, and concentrate very briefly upon the songs. There’s Nick Drake’s Pink Moon, the pop standard Fly Me to the Moon, Man on the Moon by REM and Marquee Moon by Television. One of the most memorable albums of the 1970 was Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon, and I’m sure that there are many more that I’ve overlooked. Feel free to add any that you like in the comments section.

But the best moon song of all for a Moon Day morning? Moon River.