Café Crem

Art, Music and Words around The Coffee Table

Family time

I’ve just said bye to my son Corey after he spent a few days with us here in Spain. I really don’t get to see him as often as I would like, and it was wonderful for Miki and I to have him around. Living here, you get into a routine and often don’t take the time to get down to the Playa like the tourists do, so it was fun to do that with him.

"..Jus' waitin' for da bus..." - not really, we took the car.

He starts his second year at Huddersfield University today, studying Music Production, and he already has more technical know-how than this old-school rocker! What’s great though is that it’s a shared interest, and we can talk about production ideas, gear, new music,  etc together.

We all had a great meal together at our fabulous local Chinese – anybody visiting Turre, we can heartily recommend it!

Duck in Orange sauce not pictured.

The next time I see him will probably be in the UK  when I’m rehearsing with Christie for the Estonia shows, and he’s promised to come along to watch.

Kev Moore


September 19, 2011 Posted by | children, family, fun, Kev Moore's Music, Music, travel | 3 Comments

My Country, Repository of Filth.

I don’t know where else to vent my anger and disgust. My country, England, has in the space of a few days descended into chaos, with feral youths and mindless thugs looting, destroying, and terrorizing with impunity.

Of course, now they’re trying to show the ‘British Community Spirit’ on the news – locals coming together to help clean up, which is all very laudable, but doesn’t solve the problem. THE POLICE ARE UNABLE TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT.  The culprits are generally brats spewed forth from the loins of the underclasses. They have no concept of community, law and order, or common decency. They have waived the right to their Human Rights. The parents of this pond-life should all be summarily sterilized, and the culprits should be incarcerated for life, made to serve in the Army, or shot. Extreme? Perhaps, but I’ll tell you what – I mean it. And don’t tell me it’s a result of ‘youth services cuts’. To riot because the nanny state isn’t scratching your back anymore is contemptible, as is using the excuse of an accidental shooting. People need to obey the rule of law, otherwise society breaks down. This scum are CRIMINALS, pure and simple. There is no higher purpose, they’re just to damn stupid to do anything else.  One throws up one’s hands in horror when we see the ‘extreme’ punishment some Muslim countries mete out to their criminals, but I’d like to see one of these neanderthals try to leg it from Curry’s with his 42″plasma TV if he’d had his hands chopped off. And if you’re asking “Surely you’re not advocating that, are you? ‘ My answer is “YES, I BLOODY WELL AM, AND IF THEY NEED SOMEBODY TO DO IT, I VOLUNTEER.  I saw a sickening video of a bunch of these animals ostensibly trying to ‘help’ a young man who had blood pouring from a head wound, having been caught up in the riots. It was just a ruse, so they could rummage through his backpack and take anything of value. The piece of human waste that walked away with his prize laughing to his mates will NEVER contribute anything useful to society. He will be a pariah and a draw on resources until the day he (thankfully) draws his last breath. There is no time left for ‘outreach’ programmes, or any other of these stupid ‘initiatives.’ The lunatics have taken over the asylum, and they need to be exterminated, before we all go up in flames.

Kev Moore

August 10, 2011 Posted by | children, education, events, politics, writing | , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Observations on a Cultural Distinction, or, stay ON my bloody car!

Reading Kevin’s new post about cultural distinctions, I was suddenly reminded of some photos I took earlier this year. I was sitting at my computer, working, and  regularly glancing through the window in front of me… I love to work and simultaneously keep an eye on what is going on in the world around me… but NO , I am not one of these women who are spying their neighbours from behind the curtains… no curtains anyway, the view is too beautiful!

That day I couldn’t believe what I saw. Judge for yourself

In the background of the picture you can see our lovely toy car by the way, the one which was mishandled by the other Spanish child this morning…

As you can see on the following photo, the Dad is not bothered at all!

I watched the scene for a little while, thinking that the Dad eventually would get the child down from the car, but no… then I went back to my work, but 10 minutes later I looked up again and this is what I then saw

In fact the little boy had been joined up there by an older girl! Unfortunately I was too slow, and only made a photo as she was about to leave the top of the car. But I swear to you that she was standing up there with the boy some seconds before!

And when you look at this last photo you really think that the whole company would probably end up on the top of the car and have a picnic up there!

All this (and many more things I have observed here in Spain in these last 53 years) leads me to think that Spanish people don’t care at all for property, neither others or their own. Meaning that the cultural difference is perhaps much deeper than Kevin thinks….


May 22, 2010 Posted by | Art, children, culture, travel, writing | 4 Comments

Observations on a Cultural Distinction, or, get off my bloody car!

Okay, that's a tar and feather the little git.......

I have been known to moan occasionally, as I’m sure Miki will testify. If pushed, she would even go so far as to say that it is catching, and that she herself has inadvertently slipped into moaning mode once or twice since we met. We both make herculean efforts to rein in this unfortunate behaviour, with varying degrees of success.

I try not to moan too much about the Spanish. After all, we are guests in their country. I fail miserably, and quite often, it must be said.  I know it’s payback for the way the tourist hordes treated them over the last forty years, and I know we have cultural differences. But I believe that there should be a basic kindness at the core of human nature that transcends culture, Spitting Image’s parody “I’ve never met a nice South African” notwithstanding.

Many years ago, when holidaying here in Mojacar on a regular basis, I would often observe Spanish children blatantly stealing my kids toys from around the swimming pool and brazenly playing with them. Not a word from the parents. Totally not bothered, their little Franco’s were free to requisition whatever was at hand to fulfil their hearts desire, at no risk of reprimand from their doting parents.

Needless to say, yours truly would demonstrably stride over to the little gits, rip it out of their hands , accompanied by an Anglo-Saxon word or two, loud enough to try and drum into their paremts thick heads that they were doing their children no favours at all. But am I wrong?  Were they simply teaching the little Francos to be top dog in the me, me, me society of the 21st.century?  Without a doubt, I see examples of those children become adult fulfilling those criteria today.

It hasn’t stopped either. This morning, I was lying in bed and heard Miki calling out from the balcony in Spanish to a guy. I got up to see what was going on. Unsupervised, his son (around 5 years old) had gone across the road and began pulling at the door handles of our Roadster. He couldn’t open them , so tried to pry open the fuel cap.  It was only Miki’s intervention that caused the ‘parent’ -I use the word loosely- to even acknowledge the action. His answer was simply, “Oh we saw the Smart, it’s beautiful”. Listen Jose, or whatever your name is, you’re MISSING THE POINT! Teach your child to RESPECT.OTHER.PEOPLE’S PROPERTY.   They just don’t get it. the more PC-Wooly-thinking amongst you may hide behind the facade of cultural differences. But I for one, am not taken in by ‘the Emperor’s new clothes”. It is a lack of respect, a lack of manners, pure and simple.

It is the reason why, when we were involved in a dispute at our local Vodaphone shop, having to queue for hours because of the sweeping restrictions on our civil liberties, we were treated with utter cvontempt and disdain. You see, when a culture like this prevails, it is the ones who stand up and say ‘Enough’ that are branded the wrongdoers.

When exactly was it that I turned around and missed the world going ass-backwards?

Kev Moore

May 22, 2010 Posted by | Art, children, culture, education, humor, life, Parents and Children, writing | , , | 7 Comments

Night Coffee

Hello everyone! I wanted to share my latest coffee cup art with you. I wish I had time to write more about how I really want to have a cup of coffee this evening, even though it would keep me up when I really need some sleep, but my kids just ran out of toothpaste, and I seem to be the only one in the house who can find some new toothpaste for them.

December 21, 2009 Posted by | Art, Cafe L'Arte, children, coffee, drawing, Shelley's Creations | , , , | 5 Comments

Everi wan died off the boom

2009 The Bomb

by Macauley, 11 years old

Another young artist, called Macauley, 11 years old, has accepted to have some of his works published in Cafe Crem.

Macualey is the son of an English handworker living here, and who is actually building our little home sauna (yes, even in Spain, a sauna is useful, although here and right now any place without air conditioning is a sauna itself). School hasn’t started yet in Spain, Macauley comes with his father, to us, helping him with the building sometimes but spending most of his time in my gallery, drawing and painting.

As you know I am always curious about childrens art. As I saw that picture which he has just drawn, I thought it was worth sharing with you all.

I interviewed the young artist about his work, asking him if all these people are his friends. I got it quite wrong, as his answer was

“No, these are my enemies, and the boom kills them all!”

.. But as to the question of whether these enemies are all real and if he has really so many in life, he said:

“Some are my friends too…”

And then he pointed at Dany in the middle of the picture, and explained to me that he was a fat kid, and had to die first… On the back of the drawing is written:

“Everi wan died off the boom”

He also asked me if I paint “War pictures”. I said no, being more from the pacific kind…

PS: if you live around here, and need a carpenter, just ask me for a reference: Macauley’s father is doing a great job!

by Miki

September 9, 2009 Posted by | Art, children, death, humor, life, Macauley, The MiniBar | , | 7 Comments


This is a collaboration with my son Matthew. He drew the lines, and I colored it in. He said it was a drawing of pipes, but it looked more like crop fields to me, seen from an airplane.

May 23, 2009 Posted by | Art, children, drawing, family, The MiniBar, travel | , , | 7 Comments

Streets of Derby

I feel like I’ve not been in the Cafe too much recently, except to post the serialisation of my novel, Atlantic Bridge, and indeed, I occasionally hear the tumbleweed blowing between the chairs and tables, and the creaking of the Cafe Crem sign as it forlornly dances in the wind outside….

Perhaps I should wander over to the jukebox in the corner and slip a quarter in, make a selection….clunk…there you go.  There just so happens to be my version of the old Ralph McTell song, Streets of London on there, only this one’s called Streets of Derby.  I couldn’t seem to stop working once I’d put the Derby album to bed, and Dave Mortimer, who has helped out with contacts in the town regarding the CD project is set to do a 10k run in aid of The Teenage Cancer trust, a charity under THE WHO’s patronage, and he asked me to put his re-worked lyrics to the song. Here’s the result. I hope it can do some good for this worthy cause.

Streets of Derby

Have you seen the young kids, bravely smiling through their illness?

So full of life, though some may not have long.

They need help fighting cancer – we can improve their chances

Let’s all get moving, to try and make them strong.


Chorus 1:

So how can you turn your face away, forget their pain – ignore the call?

I’m going to put my trainers on and run around the streets of Derby

I must do something to try and help them all.


For some, their home’s a hospice but their lives are still for living

All their hopes and dreams must surely match our own

We can use our energy to give those children liberty

From fear and isolation – they can’t fight it all alone.


Chorus 2:

So how can you say you’re lonely

And that for them the sun won’t shine?

If you can’t run, then sponsor me as I run through the streets of Derby

Your contribution means just as much as mine.

Lyrics by Dave Mortimer

April 10, 2009 Posted by | Ca' Puccini, children, education, events, family, Kev Moore's Music, life, Music, Parents and Children, Sound recording | , , , | 1 Comment

Bubble Boy – 22 –

Bubble Boy - 21 - , by Miki

Bubble Boy - 22 - , by Miki

(Original German Version)

(Bubble Boy – 1 –)     (Bubble Boy – 21 –)

Tiwoo was not at all happy with this decision, in fact she was very angry. Really, she thought, now that it was becoming fun, that little coward wanted to go back home! She started shouting at Bub, as loud as she ever could. But well, she certainly had not as frighteningly powerful a voice as Barbra and what she thought would sound scary to Bub sounded only like one more of her silly and boring tiwoos.

No,  Bub was not impressed at all by her screams. But yes, he was scared, so scared, first by the skulls in the desert, and now by these horrible creatures, that he had only one thought: to run away as fast as possible and to hide in a safe place. Not that the castle was really a safe place, but well, he hadn’t really a choice, our poor boy, had he?
Tiwoo hesitated. She looked back with nostalgia to the wood. You must understand, this was the place where she was born, and she still felt her roots to be there… of course not roots like these big creatures called trees, but roots nevertheless! But then she thought of Barbra… yes, she was a tremendous little witch, but she had got used to her, and Tiwoo knew that deep in her heart, Barbra loved her.

What should I do now, she asked herself? The wood, yes it was her home, but to be fair, although there was a lot of creatures in the wood, she had always felt quite alone and cold among them. She thought a while longer, but in the end, she couldn’t really face the thought of being alone again, and chose Barbra and her castle!

She let a last deep sigh out, thinking “Why always me?”, and after a last sad glance back to the wood and waving goodbye with one of her big wings, she followed Bub. But she felt a deep weight on her owl’s soul. She comforted herself telling herself that in fact she could always revoke her decision and fly back to the wood if she needed to one day, she knew the way now. But deep inside she also knew that this was an irrevocable decision, that her real home now was in the castle, with the ugly, always angry and impatient little witch Barbra!

On the way back to the castle, Bub looked up to the sky, checking if the moon was back. But it was not there. not really, there was now just a very thin pale curved line where it used to be, and above all it no longer had any eyes.  The sky was almost black and empty now, apart from tiny little yellow points which were nothing at all compared to the wonderful ball of light with the big round eyes. Bub felt very sad again, wondering if the moon was gone for ever, and somehow he couldn’t bear this thought. This is what happens when one loses friends, a normal thing, but Bub didn’t know anything about it and felt simply sad and  alone.

Finally they arrived at the castle…

(next instalment on Thursday 9th April 2009)

By Miki

April 3, 2009 Posted by | animals, Art, books, Cafe L'Arte, Cafe Literati, children, literature, Miki's Paintings, Miki's Tale Bubble Boy | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Bubble Boy – 21 –

Bubble Boy - 21 - , by Miki

Bubble Boy - 21 - , by Miki

(Original German Version)

(Bubble Boy – 1 –)     (Bubble Boy – 20 –)

… and he ran and ran until most of that oppressive, so unpleasant feeling had vanished. And when he couldn’t run anymore, he stopped and fell asleep on the ground.

But not long after that, he suddenly woke up, even more scared than before. He had had a horrible nightmare: Barbra had appeared to him as a gigantic, naked skeleton who tried to bury him alive into the sand! It’s no wonder that Bub awoke in such a mess, isn’t it?
Scared to death, he rummaged around in his pocket to check if the bottle was still there and the tiny creature still inside of it. Of course the bottle was still there, and Barbra was still a tiny little Witch in her purple gown and green hat! Our Bub had no idea that nightmares are not real, and often only the mirror of our most terrible fears. But well, real or not, the fact is that they can scare the pants off us!
As Bub took the bottle out of his pocket, he was stunned to see that Barbra was really still inside of it, still as tiny and fleshy and clothed as before, and apparently sleeping, He had no idea what it was all about, understood though that things around him seemed to be different when his eyes were closed or open. But he was too exhausted to think further and tried to sleep again.
But he couldn’t anymore… I suppose he was much too scared to meet the giant skeleton again! So he got up and walked all the way back to the crossing.

In the distance he could already see Tiwoo sitting on the pole. She had been so terrified by the bones and the skull in the desert that she had flown directly back to the crossing, without even casting a glance behind her and noticing that Bub had fallen asleep to the ground! But as she saw Bub now, she flew to meet him with hysterical screams of happiness
“Tuwit, Tawoo!”
Bub was quite surprised about such a friendly reception. It was the first time in his life that somebody seemed to enjoy his presence and a warm feeling for the owl invaded his heart.
Well, judging by her reaction to the skull in the desert, I suspect that Tiwoo too had had these kind of bad dreams which scare the pants off one -even though an owl doesn’t wear pants, the feeling is surely all the same- and was simply overjoyed not to be alone anymore!

Now there was only one direction left. This meant that theoretically Bub would find at the end what he was searching for all the time… supposing of course that there was something to find! And what if there was not?  This question slowly and painfully entered his mind, and the feeling connected with it seemed to live very close to all the other feelings of hope and nostalgia he had experienced since he went on this way through Barbra’s Land..
He was struggling in his mind with these kind of thoughts as he noticed, that the air went darker and darker, Not like in all the 3 other directions, where at least some nice light had arisen from behind the horizon or some pleasant smell was hanging around,. Not even the pale moon was to be seen up there in the sky! To tell the truth it had become in the meantime total darkness around him! He started worrying, and feeling very uncomfortable, as he suddenly heard a scream in the distance:
A scream which quite sounded like the ones of the owl, but much more mysterious, and somehow they were sounding as if thousands of owls were screaming at the same time!
Bub thought that he couldn’t be right here. More than that: he had the feeling to go always further away from what he was searching for. But he knew too that he had no more choices, now, and well, sometimes in life appearances are misleading, aren’t they? Anyway, Bub decided to go further, somehow he could not accept, or didn’t want to accept, that he had gone all these ways for nothing, and even worse, that this something he was searching for didn’t exist and was only something like the apparition of the giant skeleton, not really real!

Tiwoo in the meanwhile had  become very cheerful and was flying big circles above his head, often flying a big distance away, then flying back,  screaming impatiently all the time as if she wanted to tell him he should hurry up!
But Bub was really not impressed, and in fact he went slower and slower as the screams from the East came closer and closer until he finally stopped. It was not even that he wanted to stop, he just couldn’t go on anymore, as if a mysterious, invisible force was retaining him.
The thing was that horrible figures were standing in front of him, much uglier than the Witch Barbra as she was angry and full of hate. Figures as big and scary as the skeleton of his dream, but these were really there! And they stared at him with so much more hate than even Barbra did as he locked her up into the poison bottle… surely you understand what I mean!

This is why he decided to run back to the castle as fast as possible and never to leave it again!

(next instalment on Friday 3rd April 2009)

By Miki

March 26, 2009 Posted by | animals, Art, Cafe L'Arte, Cafe Literati, children, culture, humor, illustrations, literature, Miki's Paintings, Miki's Tale Bubble Boy | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments