Letter from Espargal: 6 July 2013

Last week’s introduction serves equally well this week, except that the noisy cicada isn’t in evidence. Here he is, clinging to the insect gauze a few days ago, asking to come in to share the air conditioning. Sorry, we said, we were full up. Better go find a tree.

SUNSET OVER MONCHIQUE HILLS

According to the thermometer, it’s 36*. The dogs are all out for the count, as you will see. I guess we should be grateful that it’s not 38*, as it is in Lisbon, or 40-something horrible, which is normal in the Alentejo. Anyhow, I won’t whinge on about the heat. We all have to live with a bit of inclement weather and I’d rather be living with ours than with the flood damage in Calgary, where my Canadian relatives live.

CLEAN-UP IN CALGARY

The only good news there is that Barbara’s Vancouver-based insurance-adjusting nephew, Chris, is up to his armpits in Calgarian muck, raking in filthy lucre while he’s about it. He says that it’s almost impossible to rid himself of the smell; it doesn’t even wash off in the shower.

As ever, it’s hard to know where the week has gone. Monday’s easy. That’s May day.

Tuesday I strimmed. So did the municipal tractor that comes around each summer to cut the high dry grass on the banks. The grass both blots out one’s view of other traffic and presents a serious fire risk. So it’s a relief when it’s gone, even if the remains lie all over the road – at least until the wind blows.

ONO

Also Tuesday I tried to make a holiday booking and here’s a lesson. Jones has a notion about getting to Marseilles for a special exhibition and we’ve long wanted to see Barcelona. So the idea was travel first to Marseilles, then to Barcelona and then come home. The options are road, rail, air and sea. Simple stuff!

PRICKLES

I couldn’t believe how complicated it got. To go by air involved three different airlines, one of which refused to allow me to complete the booking without giving my company number. The helpline spent an age taking me through a menu before switching on the usual dismal music and informing me that I was an important customer: please don’t ring off. Like hell!

BARRI

By rail there was the option of consulting several different international railway company sites, none of which would accept a complete booking – and anyway you can only book three months ahead.

BOBBY

The stars of the show were two cruise companies. I emailed them asking if there was any chance of sailing just the brief leg from Marseilles to Barcelona. (There wasn’t.) Both were on the phone – one from Fort Lauderdale – before I’d even caught my breath. Boy, you sure can tell when people work on commission.

Wednesday Slavic laboured for me in the morning and neighbours, Sarah and David, in the afternoon. First thing was to fetch more rocks for the area he is paving. That meant backing the tractor up a frighteningly steep and slippery track to a spot where we’d noted a dozen useful rocks. I did it very slowly, leaning nervously over the side and stabbing the diff-lock each time a wheel spun. We made it. The paving looks good – although it’s barely half finished.



Sarah and David's summer house looks even better. Slavic is doing the interior plastering. The exterior stone cladding is Sarah's own handiwork - and she's justly proud of it.

Thursday Natasha did a big clean while we went off on a run-around trip. Jonesy, who’s planning a joint birthday celebration with a neighbour, wanted to explore a new food store that specialises in gluten-free products.

OUR FAVOURITE LOULE SNACK BAR: EVERYBODY'S INSIDE - IT'S TOO HOT OUTSIDE

At the same time we filled the boot with bags of dog food and dropped them off at a kennel that we support, high in the hills over Loule.

ARCHIVE PICTURE

From behind the gate, the inmates gave us a clamorous welcome. I seduced them all with chewies, all except a stubborn spaniel who let me know that I wasn’t coming in, chewies or no chewies. Not that we had any need to enter; we left the bags at the gate.

SUPPER TIME, AND THE LIVIN IS EASY

Another task was to try to reinvest with our Portuguese bank some savings that had matured. The 30-day rate offered by the bank was 0,25%. So was the 60-day and the 90-day (at which point I gave up).

IT'S 8.30 BEFORE YOU CAN RELAX OUTSIDE

Not that you get even that 0.25%; the government takes a quarter once interest is paid. So the investor in reality gets 0.18% - equivalent to a cuppa tea and biscuit. They really have to be joking.

SCHOOL CROCODILE

You may have noticed that Portugal has been in the news this week – if not quite on the Egyptian scale. At the start of the week, the finance minister resigned – torn between the austerity programme he had to implement and the howls of distress from the population.

JONES SUNSET

The following day, the foreign minister followed suit. As he heads the minority party in the governing coalition, the government is in deep doo-doos. The markets, inevitably, hate it, and everybody pays the price. The opposition parties sense blood and call for elections that they would probably win before landing themselves in the same mess.
PS: The coalition has been patched up - for the moment!