Letter from Espargal: 17 of 2010

PYRAMID ORCHID

It is not often that you might observe my wife clutching a baggy on the Coral patio before lunch but last Sunday you might have. (I had a small medronho myself, to be sociable.) It was one of those days when she needed to steady her nerves.

We had gone walking in the valley with Evelyn, a French woman whose family has been renting a house in the village. We fetch her and drive down to our parking spot under the cork oaks, whence we embark on an hour-long circuit.

Shortly after we’d set out, Jones went back to fetch an item from the car. I pressed ahead with the dogs, leaving her to chat to Evelyn and admire the flowers along the route – the pyramid orchids are out and truly wondrous. As we returned to the car, I asked Jones for the keys. Of course, she couldn’t find them. Recalling that she’d had them in her hand, she retraced her steps. The rest of us waited at the car.

Fifteen minutes later, with no sign of Jones, I summoned help from Fintan – who drove down to rescue us. Evelyn occupied the front passenger seat while the four dogs and I squeezed into the back. I was wedged against Raymond with Bobby on my lap. Fortunately, the journey was short. Fintan waited while I sought the spare car keys, to take me back down.

I found Jones still hunting. She remembered showing Evelyn an orchid that she’d spotted in the grass verge. About an hour into her search, she found the flower again – and the keys. She swore she’d never carry keys again! From there, it was straight up to the Coral – and the baggies with which this account began.

We were back at the restaurant the following evening for an Espargal gang bang, our first alfresco meal of the summer. There’s much to be said for quaffing pints of ale over Brigitte’s excellent chicken and chips.

The French family was also having dinner, clearly at home in Coral’s French-Portuguese environment. The children were clustered around the pool table. I’ve mentioned before that Frank, the father - paraplegic from a skiing accident – comes to Portugal for specialised physiotherapy from Jodi.

Llewellyn arrived from the UK midweek, for a spell of R&R while Lucia is visiting family in Australia. He wasted no time in heading for the beach, only to report that much of it had been washed away since his last visit. Bulldozers were backing into the sea in an attempt to repair the situation.

Nelson has had another busy week clearing thickets, exposing areas that have long been obscured by impenetrable curtains of thorny creeper. I joined him from time to time, mainly to thin out the numerous saplings. Some we have dragged out with the tractor, until such time as the chain broke. Others I have cut out with the heavy secateurs.

The blanket refusal of the Greeks to balance their budget and the fiscal plight of the Portuguese (Spanish, Irish, Italians etc) is worrying. We were hearing about the Irish ghost estates, great swathes of uncompleted and unoccupied buildings, a product the construction bubble. One in five Irish houses is empty, would you believe it, and those newly occupied are worth barely half what they cost? We should be grateful Cathy if you can use your influence to persuade the Germans to bail us all out.

On the positive side, I am pleased to report that our worth is finally being recog- nised, at least by our bank. I have been sent a gold credit card, with the word PRESTIGE emblazoned across it. It’s the kind one waves around before use. At last we are going up in the world. Either that or some rascally company is trying to swell the egos and debts of near-indigent pensioners with glistening bits of plastic. Surely not!

Still on the positive side, our new TV has finally arrived, as has the SKYPE phone that Llewellyn advised us to get. Jones was much impressed on her visit to the UK by her brother’s SKYPE installation and all the money he was saving by using it. Llewellyn was kind enough to set up our phone, hooking it into the router and doing the necessary configuration.

It works like a conventional phone, independently of the computer. (All we have to work out now is how to spend all the money we’ll be saving.) Jones promptly called a friend in the UK to have a free SKYPE conversation. I have yet to take a lesson in its use.

I did, however, take a quick lesson in how to use the new TV. I had sensibly arranged for the shop to do the complicated installation. There’s an array of connections down the back of the set that would suit an aircraft cockpit.

DOWNSTAIRS

Fortunately, Luis, who made the delivery, was both helpful and knowledgeable. No longer does one just switch on the TV. One has to choose which satellite to watch or whether to link the TV to one’s computer or a USB-pen-drive movie or whatever. The picture obtained via the HDMI (as opposed to the SCART) link is just stunning, all the more so when the actual channel is being broadcast in high definition (as several now are).

UPSTAIRS

Luis was good enough to take the old thin-screen TV upstairs and set it up in the study in the place of our (even older) box TV. Once again, I marvelled at the HDMI quality. Jones swears that she can’t tell the difference but she seems content that I am delighted and that’s really what matters.