Letter from Espargal: 24 May 2014

This past week is not a contender for our week of the year award. It went badly from the start and mainly stayed that way.

On Sunday Bobby began throwing up and showed no interest in his dinner. Alarmed by our experience with Mary, whose loss still haunts us, we took the dog into the surgery in Loule for a check-up with the emergency vet.

The vet, Paula, was a young woman whom we hadn't met before. We explained Bobby's symptoms and the background to our visit. Bobby bore with her superficial examination but he objected to having both his temperature and blood taken.

He doesn't like people fiddling with him at the best of times and he particularly resents strangers sticking things into him. Having suffered various stickings myself, I empathised.

The results were slightly ambiguous. We had to take him in again the following morning for a further check. But he seems to be fine and over the upset.

ROBBIE (WEARING LAMPPOST HAT) AND CAROL

I ought to touch base by saying that Barbara returned late on Saturday night from Copenhagen, where she had met up with Robbie and Carol ahead of their cruise. They were in remarkably good form in spite of arriving from the US via Reykjavik minus a night's sleep.

It was a good visit that she was very pleased to have made but a tiring one involving multiple journeys and a sprint across Lisbon airport between returning flights.

On the Sunday morning, our guests, Margaret and Terry, headed north for three days to Evora, an ancient walled city east of Lisbon where Jones and I spent a fascinating few days ourselves last year.

During Barbara's absence, they looked after me more than I looked after them. My one kudo was to barbecue to perfection three large chicken breasts that Margaret had obtained and prepared with cheese filling and a bacon wrap - the secret of my success no doubt. They were delicious!

Earlier, Terry (Ferrett) and I had sat down to watch the FA Cup final - a most exhilarating match.

However the TV picture was freezing and freaking by turns. I tried streaming it from the internet instead but that was equally bad. In the end we turned on the radio commentary, muted the TV and were grateful for such scraps of the game as we witnessed.

Monday brought another technical problem. Jones wanted to watch a favourite TV programme from the BBC iPlayer library, which we access via a VPN to disguise our source. But every time I opened iPlayer on the iPad, I got a message saying there was an important update. And when I tried to download the update, I got another message saying it was not available in my country. Very frustrating!

It would seem that the problem arose from the IP address linked to our satellite internet provider. For when I tried later from a Portuguese (snack bar) location, the update downloaded in seconds and the programme functioned normally. (This is the short explanation, Llewellyn. The BBC now makes a "global" version of iPlayer available to subscribers in a number of countries. I have begun subscribing.)

On Tuesday we visited Loule on behalf of a neighbour who wants to get rid of an old foreign-registered car with a minimum of bureaucracy. I had tracked down a car-scrapping yard in the industrial zone that I thought might be glad to have the car for its parts. Stacks of de-wheeled and de-engined hulks around the yard bore witness to the fate of old cars. But it emerged that scrapping foreign-registered cars was problematic unless one was prepared to wade through loads of paperwork.

Also on Tuesday I phoned Vodafone to ascertain why there was such a delay with the installation of a new battery in the HTC One mobile phone that I'd taken in two weeks earlier. This, as I have mentioned, is a sealed unit that requires a qualified technician to open it.

The Vodafone call-centre person asked me to hold while she inquired, offering me some horrible music for my pains. She came back to say that because there was no qualified technician in Faro, the phone had been sent away for "repairs". Much as I love HTC phones, that's my last one. Changing a battery should take two minutes, not three weeks.

Finally on Tuesday our travel agent emailed us with an alternative itinerary for our planned Black Sea cruise in October. Did we want to accept it, she asked?

Gone are Yalta, Sebastopol and Odessa - the destinations that had attracted us! In their place are stops in Romania, Bulgaria and additional Turkish ports.

I shrugged. I knew that changes were inevitable. Jones is distinctly unimpressed. We could cancel the cruise but having paid separately for return flights to Istanbul, we would then be faced with other difficult choices. Roll on Romania, Bulgaria and Turkey!

On Wednesday morning, following heavy rain overnight, we set out in bright sunshine on our usual walk. After a month without rain, the countryside was refreshed. So, soon after, were we, for we failed to notice a huge black cloud creeping up on us.

When Jonesy did spot it, we turned tail and hurried for home. But the cloud caught us and soaked us all utterly to the skin, pelting us with huge drops, so that we crept back - all eight of us - bedraggled and cold through the gate.

Once we'd dried ourselves and our animals, we made our monthly supplies run to the rescue kennels we support on the far side of Loule.

Marisa, seen carrying two bags of dog-food, was very pleased to see us. She always is.

She was struggling, she said, with an outbreak of distemper.

She and her supporters do amazing work - and that's on a wing and a prayer. Their dedication is quite inspiring.

PAPARAZZO ABOUT!

Wednesday afternoon Margaret and Terry returned from their trip to Evora, braving some blinding downpours en route. Dubious weather aside, they proclaimed it a successful excursion.

(The local English papers headline all events as A successful this (or that) was held. To the best of our knowledge, no unsuccessful events have ever been reported.)

Thursday Slavic came to continue building his dappled stone pavements. I set him to work painting the garden furniture while we went walking. The sun was back, along with a few unthreatening clouds.

Afterwards Jones and I went to Benafim to pay Quim Quim for the morning's delivery of stone dust and cement. Then next door to collect my new Irish passport from the parish office - my one success of the week! It expires in 2024. I wondered whether I would ever need another.

At the Ponto de Encontro, our final stop, Tania served us coffees and toast. (We take our own jam.) She replaces the pregnant Telma, who was finding the long hours particularly tiring. Her babe is due some time in August. We wish the pair of them well.

On Thursday evening I barbequed salmon steaks and then six of us sat down to watch American Hustle. When I looked up, there were four. Then there were two and finally just me. If you haven't seen American Hustle, don't bother!

This weekend we have the opportunity to vote in the European elections. I believe that citizens ought to exercise their right to vote but it's very hard to know who for.