Letter from Espargal: 7 March 2014

THE ORCHIDS ARE IN THEIR GLORY

I find it easiest when I sit down to the blog to begin with the present in the hope that immediate events will jog my already foggy memories of the previous week. The present is a sunny, windy afternoon. Beyond the study patio the upper branches of the wild olives are whipping around like a boxer trying to duck an assault.

We are back from coffee at the snack-bar in Benafim where Jose presented us with a small bottle of medronho as I admired the latest tractor on his adjacent stand, a 90hp - €41,000 McCormick, which I have undertaken to purchase if we win the Euromillions lottery - with €100,000,000 currently at stake. (If we win, I shall probably buy the whole stand!)

THE WATER OF LIFE!

Moreover, we are back from Rui Miguel's architectural practice in the town where he and his assistant have drawn up the necessary documents - photos, plans, topographical maps - for me to present to the Camara as part of our efforts to register Casa Nada. The pair of them spent an hour earlier in the week taking pictures and recording the details. They needed barely five minutes to get the interior dimensions, using a laser distance metre. Impressive!

We are also back from Gilde's outstanding hardware store at Salir where I purchased a roll of 4.5mm strimming cord and some Spanish thingies that clean the chimney-stack if you add them to the fire. Jones is relaxing with the hounds on the sun-strewn south patio to the tinkling of a piano interlude from one of the many music stations available via the Apple TV.

SAWFLY ORCHID

The strimming cord is intended for the strimmer, which has been going through metres of the stuff as Doru and I try to reduce the knee-high sea of greenery surrounding the house to a navigable level. As things stand, one never knows whether one is about to step in a hole or on a rock - equally hazardous.

Doru spent Thursday with us, initially chopping off the seed-heads of the hundreds of alexanders that have overtaken the property and then using his jack-hammer to demolish a particularly stubborn rock jutting out from the tractor track that I am extending in the bottom field. It took over an hour to pound this rock quite literally into dust.

OUR VERY OWN EARLY PURPLE

Also on Thursday we drove along the N125 highway to find DHL's offices where I handed over the incorrectly despatched Garmin GPS that was intended for a gent in Dubai who is meant to be doing the same for me. And finally, after a quick stop at May's, I visited an old house very close to the Quinta that Natasha is hoping to buy. Natasha met us there, along with the owner and an agent. The house seemed to me to be both suitable and reasonably priced but rather beyond her reach. (That lottery win would come in doubly useful!)

At the moment she and Slavic are renting an apartment in Loule for much the same price as they'd be paying for a mortgage. She would very much like to own her own property rather than merely renting it. And because she's a hard worker, organised, resolute, clever and thrifty, she's achieved her ambitions so far of learning to drive and acquiring a car. She speaks excellent Portuguese as well as her native Russian, and gets along in Ukranian, Romanian and English. However, as admirable as all these achievements are, they don't count for much when it comes to buying a house.

That takes us back to Tuesday. I asked Jones if she could remember what we did that day (other than the usual walks and coffee outing) but she couldn't; neither could I. If a neighbour had been murdered and the police wanted our alibis, we'd be stuck up queer street. Jones has spent a lot of time patching her torn cushions but I doubt that she could tell you when. The days have a habit of merging one into another. It's only Fridays that stand out because that's the day when people typically wish each other a good weekend rather than just good morning or good afternoon.

IS THAT A PLANT THAT I SEE BEFORE ME?

One thing that I did do on Tuesday, as well as Monday and Wednesday, was to investigate the TOOWAY internet by satellite system that offers much faster speeds than those available to us in Espargal. Folks in Benafim on the far side of the valley enjoy 5 and 6 megabits but we're lucky to achieve half of that at the end of old copper wires. The only downside with satellite internet is the price. However, the buffering on our evening TV sessions is slowly driving me towards it.

NO, IT'S JONESY AND RUSS HAVING A LITTLE SIESTA

Unusually, Monday entailed neither a May lunch nor an English lesson. May was feeling out of sorts and the senior university was closed for carnival (an event that we leave these days to revellers; the weather is inevitably miserable and we've long since got over the novelty of being either egg-yolked or flour-bombed). Jones did May's grocery shopping and got her some lunch while I wandered along the main drag of Loule, peering into shop windows. It felt as grey and dull as the skies above; the shops still in business were almost as lifeless as those seeking new tenants.

THOSE MUCH-PATCHED CUSHIONS

For a number of years I have wished to visit Istanbul - Jones already has - and some of the historical sites nearby. If not exactly the cradle of mankind, it's certainly the arena. A cruise, I thought, would combine a relaxing holiday with the opportunity to familiarise myself with places where so much history has been played out. But suitable cruises never offered themselves at times when we were able to take them, not - that is - until this year when the timing, the itinerary, cruise line and the price fell into place.

Talk about timing!

I wonder if we shall need Russian visas.