Around 11:30 p.m. the four of us ventured out for dinner at a Tapa Bar. The nice thing about a Tapa bar is that along with each drink you are served a tasty tidbit such as sardines or olives or a little salad. Unlike Belgium, where not only are there dozens of beers to choose from at a bar, but each brand is served in its own unique glass, in Spain you just order a cerveza and that's that. But despite the lack of variety and not being much of a lager fan, I liked Spanish beer; the taste went well with the climate. The funny thing to me was that as you ate all this finger food you were expected to toss the napkins, shells, olive pits, cigarette butts and other debris directly onto the floor. It just went against my manners to do that; I mean I was raised hearing Woodsy Owl sing, "Give a hoot, don't pollute," so I kept ending up with a handful of trash in my free hand until I finally decided to go with flow and throw the stuff down. Then I enjoyed how naughty it felt!