Scouse Catañans; Lovely Ladies; A King kaught; Religious nonsense 1, 2 and 3; & Spitting.

Thinking it was Ladies' Day at Aintree today, I went into Liverpool, hoping to see some splendid sartorial sights on the underground train. But there weren't any, leaving me thinking there was a mistake somewhere. However, I was delighted to see international food stalls in the middle of the city's main shopping street and I stopped at the Toritos stand to chat with the Barcelona guy offering Catalan Chicken. He and his wife take the stall all over the country but, nonetheless, choose to live in Wigan. It takes all sorts.

How come women always know that you're looking at them, however obliquely? Is it perhaps because they're, by definition, attractive and so expect to be looked at and keep an eye open for it? Attractive women please comment. And add your email address.

Today sees the publication in Spain of a book which claims that the Spanish King was not only aware in advance of the abortive 1981 plot to replace the then President by a government fronted by the military but also very much part of the plot himself. Which is a tad shocking as, to date, he's been credited with heroically foiling the coup. It's been a bad year or two for the ageing monarch but this will surely strengthen demands for his abdication. More here from David Jackson.

Another Spanish leader in the news is Madrid's Catholic Archbishop Rouco. Never one for being backward at making backward utterances, this time he's used the funeral of an ex-President to claim that Spain could be facing another Civil War. Not content with that, he also dropped some anti-Catalan remarks. Politicians of all stamps are up in arms. Or they would be if this weren't an inappropriate metaphor. I rather liked the comment of Cataluña’s religious group Església Plural, which labelled Rouco "fanatically evil for trying to justify through religion the use of all available measures to defend the 'sacred' unity of Spain."

Talking of religion . . . One advantage of staying in a house which has accommodated the complete range of Catholics is that you come across amusing things like this: His Holiness Leo XIII, at an audience on December 13 1898 with the Prefect of the Congregation of Indulgences and Relics, made known that he grants to all the faithful who shall have devoutly read the Scriptures for at least a quarter of an hour an indulgence of 300 days. It's a fascinating thought that God measures Purgatory punishment times in terrestrial terms and not those which have sufficed Him over the billions of years since the Big Bang, and whatever went before it. Perhaps there's a big countdown clock there, making the faithful more comfortable by showing them the passage of time in units they're used to.

Still on religion: The Daily Telegraph is rather sceptical of the claim that real Holy Grail has turned up in Spain. It notes that "The cathedral authorities who are thinking of building a larger exhibition space to accommodate the floods of credulous pilgrims coming to see the “Grail” must really believe it is the cup used by Christ at the Last Supper, and the last thing they want is to amass the sort of cash that is raked in each year at Fatima or Lourdes." Amen to that, I say.

Finally . . . My friend Anthea, writing from Vigo, says that one of the things that upset her is men spitting on the floor. As I do, she remembers sign on the buses asking people not to do this. This put me in mind of a limerick that runs:- 
There once was a man from Darjeeling 
Who went on a bus trip to Ealing. 
It said on the door 
'Don't spit on the floor'. 
So he lay down and spat on the ceiling.

Thank-you and Goodnight, Eileen.