Here is the news from Espargal or, at least, from this corner of it. Our guest worker, Walker, has departed. He flew to Porto last Tuesday evening, there to meet a friend before setting out on a brief tour of northern Portugal. He will be sorely missed by the mosquitoes in Casa Nada for they feasted during his stay in spite of our prevention efforts.
Each day Walker would appear with some new itchy pink bites. The fact is that he proved most attractive to nature. He managed to get bitten, not only by the mosquitoes, but also by a spider (we think - under his foot) and a horse-fly (on the leg). I had warned him shortly after his arrival to keep a sharp lookout for horseflies as they can be persistent and their bites are painful.
But, forgetting my advice as he watered the fruit trees one afternoon, he ignored the insect that buzzed around his leg. Until it bit him, that is. They don’t trouble me as I always wear jeans outdoors. I try to let the blighters settle before taking a smack at them, and then grinding them underfoot. There’s no “live and let live” with horseflies.
Walker joined us each morning for the 45 minute circuit of the hill, stopping to take in the views on breezy days when the wind blew all the gunk out to sea and the towns along the coast sparkled in the distance beyond the several ranges of hills. You may admire Jones’s efforts with the new camera.
One day he took himself off to Lagos in the hopes of seeing the spectacular sea caves there. In the event the swell was too high. Instead he went dolphin watching on a large semi-inflatable, returning with a host of pictures. It was, he reported, a very rough ride – reminiscent of our own in the Acores - although well worth the discomfort.
We tried to show our appreciation of Walker’s efforts in the garden by entertaining him generously at the local eateries. He showed his by downing notable quantities of Portuguese lager – without apparent effect - as he recounted his extensive travels and food interests. For a young man he has certainly been around.
Our next guests are Cathy and Rolf, who are due to arrive from Berlin this coming Tuesday – that’s if Lufthansa’s cabin crew do not strike again that day. I was trying to imagine the Sisyphean task of the Lufthansa planners as they deal with the chaos left by the cancellation of hundreds of flights – and of the check-in staff confronted by thousands of frustrated passengers going nowhere. Had trade unions existed in Dante’s time he might well have given their leaders their own special circle in hell.
Be warned Cathy and Rolf that a mega-heatwave is being forecast for the weekend after your arrival – most unusual for mid-September. In the meanwhile we are continuing our clearing and carob-picking activities in the area of land that we acquired a couple of years ago. It had lain untended for decades,
all but hiding the carob trees behind barriers of scrub and thorn. The results have been both plentiful and pleasing. It is most satisfying to see the shape of a garden emerging from the jungle. We ought to have finished picking within a week or two. The clearing is a never-ending job, a bit like painting the Forth bridge.
Ermenio came around with another delivery of grapes, peppers and tomatoes to show his thanks for our donations of carobs. He apologised (quite needlessly) for the paucity of the delivery, complaining bitterly about the havoc that wild pig had been wreaking nightly on his crops. The animals really are a serious problem for farmers.
A neighbour was telling us that to relieve their thirst, the pigs used to chew holes in the plastic irrigation pipes that fed his crops until he made a trough of water available to them. The problem is that Portuguese farmers have plots of land scattered all over the countryside, and it’s quite impossible to police them or fence them effectively. Ermenio tried erecting an electric fence at one stage, only to have the battery that powered it stolen.
Have you heard of a Swiss group calling itself the Top Secret Drum Corps? Watching a recording of the Edinburgh Military Tattoo, I was bowled over by their display. Their precision and showmanship was beyond anything I’ve witnessed – truly amazing – as you can see for yourself although the youtube version is a poor reflection of the TV coverage( http://ulsterobserver.wordpress.com/2012/08/27/top-secret-drum-corps-royal-edinburgh-military-tattoo-2012/ )
I use the word “amazing” advisedly as it is so abused, along with “incredible”, “unbelievable”, “fantastic” and all their kith and kin – appropriated by the advertising industry for soap-powder discounts and stain removers. And I fume at their repeated use on radio and TV for every piffling performance or fatuous experience. Oh! it’s a hard life for a pedant, pissing in the wind as the saying goes. In the word-inflation game, even “hyped” has now given way to “overhyped”, an irony if ever there was one.
Some weeks ago I made the mistake of acquiring two new pairs of inexpensive work trousers to replace some ageing and much-darned jeans. The mistake was simply to try the trousers on without climbing a few steps. I have since found that they cling around my thighs and that I have constantly to pull up the legs in order to go walking. This is both confining and irritating.
I suspect that the trousers were designed for a wearer with less muscular thighs. Jones says they may fit a little better when I have lost some more weight. She has also suggested taking them back to the shop. But since the shop concerned is an old-fashioned one where each sale is noted in a book with a pencil and receipts are not generally issued, I have my doubts about any returns.
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