Letter from Espargal: 7 of 2011

This has been the kind of week that it’s very hard to know what to write anything about. Suddenly it’s over, as though it’s dribbled away through cracks in the days. The weather has not been kind. On Monday and Tuesday we cowered around the fire as squalls hurled themselves like rampaging Norsemen against the house’s defences.

OLLIE PASSES BY

Jones says she feels as though she has been wading through syrup. That may be because so much of our time has been spent tending to the puppies. The pair, inspired perhaps by events in the Middle East, have done their best to overthrow the current regime, breaking through endlessly from their quarters into ours and wreaking havoc each time they do so.

They learned first to squirm through the spaces at the end of the metre-high wire fencing midway along the patio and then to boldly leap from a chair on their side to one on ours. Each time a door opens, they’re into the house. Much as they enjoy their own company, it’s with us and the other dogs they want to be. The only answer is to confine them to the newly-created 400m2 pen on the other side of Casa Nada but Jones feels that she’s not yet ready for this. Instead, she’s spent hours patching ripped cushions and clothing as well as cleaning up the mess they leave behind them.

I’ve had a few frustrations myself, mainly of the technological kind. Midweek, nearly a month after applying to migrate our phone line back from a private telecom to the national company, I got a call to say that the transfer had been completed. The news was welcome. The caller informed me that I could come to pick up the “internet kit” that awaited me at the Portugal Telecom shop in Loule. This I did the same day. The “kit”, as I discovered, comprised a (crappy Chinese-made) router, a pen-drive modem and a mobile phone.

That night I tried to connect the router to the computer, only to find that there was still no DSL signal on the phone line. So it was back to the shaky Vodafone pen-drive.

On Friday I got a welcome SMS to say that my new (Sapo) internet service had been activated. But the router still wasn’t working - and a phone call to the ISP established that the message related to the pen-drive modem instead.

And so things continued. There’s much more frustration that I’ll spare you. At the time of writing I’m still waiting to be connected. One reason for the severe financial straits in which Portugal finds itself is dismal standards of organisation and training.

An exception to this is the Portuguese tax department, which is highly computerised and exchanges information with its sister departments in other European countries, as many expats have discovered to their cost. I am careful to file detailed figures with our accountant, who we visited during the week.

On Wednesday, as the weather cleared, Aurelio reappeared to complete the work required by the electrician in order to finish the electrics in Casa Nada. With luck both the electrics and the painting will be done this coming week. It’s a pleasure to watch Aurelio perform. He’s meticulous. From time to time he’d despatch me a kilometre down the road to a building site to fetch more sand or cement. Although I drive the tractor I decline to use a shovel or carry anything, knowing my unforgiving back. Aurelio confessed that he suffered the same complaint, and was forced to swallow painkillers to dull the sciatica that burned down his leg. I felt bad for him.

Another tractor excursion was to the far end of the village was to fetch more pumpkins, as Jones had used up the generous supply we received last month from farmer neighbours. I returned with two boxes full. The farmer absolutely refused to take any money for them, saying they were marked and likely to be discarded. What defects we found were small and easily removed; Jones turns the pumpkins into the tastiest soups and salads.

As usual, Natalia arrived midweek for her 90 minute English lesson. The course she is taking in commercial English with a German university involves the reading and analysis of articles from financial newspapers. The level is demanding. I doubt that most English-speaking school leavers would cope. But she’s determined to acquire fluent commercial English and heading steadily for her goal. Her young daughter is fluent in three languages, as is often the case around here.

After much discussion, Jones and I have decided not to visit North America this year when our regular house-sitters come down in May to manage the zoo. She was keen to have a laid-back drive-walk holiday in areas of Spain that we’ve not seen. I was keen on a Baltic cruise that would introduce us to that part of the world, in particular St Petersburg. We compromised by agreeing to do both. Following hours of research I have booked a 9-day cruise towards the end of May; before that we plan to spend two weeks in Spain.

My niece, Anita, is here. She flew in from Berlin for a weekend visit ahead of a course that she’ll be doing at Lisbon University in the next few days. Her first introduction was to the zoo, especially the puppies. Love was mutual.