Letter from Espargal: 4 July 2014

BRINGING IN THE SHOPPING

The trinity on my mind this week has been football, Jones's 60s-farewell curry-do and my impending trip to South Africa, although not necessarily in that order. The football must speak for itself; either you're into it or it's passing you by.

Jones's curry-do involves ordering curries from the Loule Indian restaurant, inviting the neighbours to eat them and lots of running around - of which more in due course. It's got something to do with leaving one's 60's behind and embarking on the next decade, a threshold that most of our expat group is now crossing.

BREN - A FEW YEARS AGO

The trip to South Africa came about somewhat unexpectedly with a discounted ticket offer. I am due to leave early on Saturday to spend the week down in Witbank with Brendan and to stay overnight with Robbie & Carol near Pretoria before returning home the following weekend.

Brendan, my youngest brother, is the only sibling still in full-time employment. He and his son run a small construction company that works mainly on the nearby coal mines.

With an exceptionally hot week looming in the Algarve, I shall be happy to cool my heels in the south. Brendan warns me that the forecast for Witbank is for polar, which is ok by me. I've always found it easier to stay warm than cool. More importantly, cold weather doesn't provoke the plague of itchy bumps that ring my tropical regions like angry pink planets in summer.

For Barbara, who remains at home to run the ranch, I fear it's going to mean lots of garden watering as well as a deal of animal minding; for while the dogs worship at my feet (most of the time), they regard Jones as a minor if often useful deity.

Our commuting Irish neighbours, Annette and Tony, have given Barbara a small statuette in memory of Mary, whose loss we still feel so deeply.

Barbara has mounted it atop a ceramic jar overlooking the rock garden that we have renamed Mary's Garden.

It's an area that we have remodeled with Slavic's assistance. Jones has added a number of pots and plants.

The south patio overlooks the garden. The view is somehow calming and spiritual - although I guess these things are very personal.

On the local front there have been some small but important developments. The first of these is the installation of a bench beside the post boxes at the bottom of the road. I say installation because the council workmen sensibly cemented the four legs into the verges to prevent the bench from walking off one night.

The unfortunate part is that the road slopes steeply upwards and bench sitters are likely to find themselves sliding downhill until they either congest at the end or topple off it.

Also - McDonald's has opened an outlet in Loule.

Not that we're planning to patronise it - we're not into hamburgers - nonetheless it's a notable addition to the town's more traditional eateries. After a great flurry of building, digging up the road and laying down tarmac, a smart drive-through or eat-in restaurant has emerged from the dust.

It was noteworthy that throughout the construction period a couple of policemen were on hand to control the passing traffic and generally smooth the builders' path. I have never once in my 20-plus years in these parts seen a policeman monitoring the speed-triggered traffic lights - on the approach to villages - that the locals ignore with impunity.

For anyone who missed the arrival of the restaurant, there are signs dotted around the town. The outlet is located on a main thoroughfare, right across the road from a hypermarket, and our guess is that it will draw the crowds.

May was in good form on Monday and treated us to lunch at the Angolana, a long time favourite venue. While my salmon steak and Barbara's chicken met with our full approval, May confessed that her sinewy veal kebab wasn't the best choice. She's not a good chewer. On the other hand the dogs and cats were delighted with the bits she rejected. Of late she has tended to get her days a bit mixed up, calling us on non-May days to inquire why we haven't turned up at her door.

Barbara has been working on ways to help May check each morning on which day has dawned. I sometimes have to check myself. Retirement does tend to rather blur the distinction between weekdays (known in Portugal as "useful days") and weekends, more especially as one's activities differ little between them.

Tuesday we headed west to Guia, where the Iceland store stocks a number of British specialities in which Jones had an interest. I wanted more of the anti-mozzie damp tissues with which I wipe my face and arms each night as I retire in a bid to discourage the little blighters.

En route we stopped at the parish office to fetch the dog licences following their annual innoculation. The cost of these had gone up from €1 to €5 each, explained Ana with an apology, because Benafim was now part of the larger parish of Querenca, Benafim and Tor. We are among the many residents who were opposed to the "money saving" amalgamation but whose views were not sought when it was imposed.

On Wednesday both Slavic and Natasha turned up to work. He completed some more rock paving and then assisted me with pruning the numerous suckers from our almond and carob trees before mulching them. I have left Barbara a useful heap of mulch. It makes a great cover for the fruit tree surrounds, keeping them moist long after the sun would otherwise have sucked them dry.

Natasha took rather longer than usual with her duties. When I asked her if she was slowing down, she informed me that it was the preparations for the curry-do that were taking the time. Fair enough! She is very thorough. Behind the couch she found a mobile phone purse that I lost months ago and had given up hope of seeing again.

Thursday morning we went to fetch the curries, samosas and other delicacies that Jones had pre-ordered for the evening's get-together. Before leaving, she gave each of the stayers one of the rib bones that Fintan had donated, hanging the plastic bag with the remainder high on the front door.

We returned to find just the bag lying on the floor. I hope the thief had shared them out. I suspect either Barri, who's the smartest, or Raymond, who's the biggest.

Thursday p.m. Jones has worked away the whole afternoon. Now it's dogs in the pen. Neighbours are arriving. The curries are superb. So are the desserts that our guests have brought.

Friday morning: The tractor has been out to take a bed from one neighbour to another. The rest of today is last jobs, final packing and a good soaking for the garden. The next blog may not be for a fortnight.