Letter from Espargal: 26 July 2014

I am still recovering from the accolades, encomiums, panegyrics and paeans that I sat through last Friday night while endeavouring to make a favourable impression on Loule council.

You may recall that I was invited to represent South Africa at an occasion on which ex-President Jorge Sampaio came to share his thoughts with the city's worthies and the public at large - marking 40 years of Portuguese democracy.

Although Sampaio himself spoke largely off the cuff, the line of fawning praise-singers concentrated unwaveringly on their hand-written notes. On and on they droned, over-awed by the presence of such celebrity, and determined to do it justice.

Even worse, the questions that were afterwards invited from the audience evoked only lengthy winges from disgruntled citizens who were reluctant to surrender the microphone to the anxious organisers - not what the latter had in mind.

Jones watched the start before wandering off to look at the fair on the courthouse square. Finding the amplified music there deafening, she twice returned to the hall in the hope that matters were concluding, only to be disappointed.

Clutching my large South African flag, I had joined the international cast of expats who had been rounded up to pay tribute both to great man and to Nelson Mandela, whose "day" coincided with the event. Several speakers acknowledged to his considerable role in history.

As a musical slide-show depicting Mandela's life finally brought matters to an end I held my flag aloft. My part in the events was evidently appreciated, at least by the organiser who sent me a congratulatory text. Maybe it's time to remind the council that I am still waiting for a response to our five-month old application to have Casa Nada registered.

On Monday I went back on diet, having plucked up courage to mount the scales and finding, as expected, that I had tipped myself over my 90kg limit.

BRENDAN AND ASSISTANT, JULENE, AT THE GATE OF THE HOUSE

While I don't regret a moment of the hospitality I enjoyed in South Africa - thank you Brendan and Julene - the good times are over for the moment. Beyond 90kg I start feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

ON MAY DAYS, JONES JOINS THE BOYS IN THE BACK

On Tuesday we took May to lunch. Our favourite restaurant, Cassima's, remains closed for the renewal that was due to be completed two months ago.

The "We're opening soon" notice on the door is starting to curl at the edges. Evidently, there's a problem. Fortunately, the Calpyso, just around the corner, is an excellent alternative.

On Wednesday, Jones shrieked in the bathroom as she turned on the hair-drier. I rushed through from the study to find that a large spider had made a sudden and unwelcome entry on the scene. I was able to capture it in a glass (spiders, like butterflies and bees, have to be rescued: house rules) and relocate it in a tree beyond the balcony.

Jones apologised for her inadvertent shriek, saying she knew as she yelled that it would alarm me. It did. To be fair, it was a big spider.

SIESTA TIME

Mid morning we drove down the motorway to Guia to pay the travel agents the balance owing on our October cruise - now just over two months away - and to collect from our accountants the documents demanded last week by Social Security.

Their demand really puzzled me until the accountant explained that because we get an income from photovoltaic solar panels, we would normally be considered "sole traders" liable for social security contributions. As pensioners we're exempt, but the authorities want to confirm our status.

REDUNDANT

We stopped over at the huge Leroy Merlin hardware store to purchase a new Black & Decker cordless drill. Regrettably, while there's nothing wrong with my old Black & Decker cordless drill, its rechargeable batteries are nearing retirement. Black & Decker confirmed over the phone that they are no longer available, having long since replaced them with more efficient lithium models. Anybody want a perfectly good drill?

SUPPER TIME

Thursday we brunched under the trees at the Hamburgo, with Ono, Prickles and Russ sitting beside us in the shade, noses a-sniff as they watched the passing parade.

My attention was caught by a family group getting into a large new, very smart, M-badged BMW. I gathered from the waitress that they were owners of restaurant down on the coast. Clearly, not everyone is being affected by the "crise".

Portuguese news reported that the retired boss of the Espirito Santo bank and associated companies had been arrested at his home and taken to court to face charges of money laundering and tax evasion. We wondered if he would prove to be Portugal's Bernie Madoff.

Our account manager at the bank says client savings are not exposed to the reverberations from the group's dubious finances. We sure hope she's right. Portuguese bank savings (up to a certain figure) are guaranteed by the government, which in turn is propped up by the banks. Hmmm!

Every so often, one sees truly remarkable TV programmes. We saw two this week, one on the monstrous machines that are boring their way under London (and the Thames) as part of the multi-billion Crossrail project.

Another, which I found hard to watch at times, showed surgeons dissecting a human hand to demonstrate how it worked. I had no idea that our hands were quite so complex. Much of the programme, happily, concentrated on the hands of such people as rock-climbers and musicians to illustrate the lessons being drawn by the surgeons.