Letter from Espargal: 24 September 2016

Midweek: The noon bell in the Benafim church tower has just struck. The weather is perfect - pleasantly warm in the sun, pleasantly cool in the shade. If only it were ever thus.



An engineering team from a local firm, Joao and Fabio, left a few minutes ago after completing the installation of air conditioners in the study and the guest room. We had got in touch with the firm (TermoCelcius) after hearing from the Dutch ladies how pleased they were with their own installation.



It was on Monday that the boss rang to ask if the team could come the following day. That was fine by us, giving us a full week before our house sitters were due. I assured Jones that they'd be done by lunch time and that Natasha could clean up that afternoon.



Well, they were done by lunch time but it was lunch time the following day. The pair were perfectionists. Everything was measured and marked to the millimetre. We had no cleaning up to do afterwards as they vacuumed up any dust as they worked and removed every scrap of litter. There was minimal drilling involved. For most purposes they used a nail gun to attach frames and tubing clips to the wall.



The unit in the study is a sophisticated model that (in automatic setting) regulates itself - and switches itself over to economy mode some minutes after detecting no movement in the room. The installation did not please all the household. The dogs didn't much like the invasion of men and machinery. Nor did Jones who, fearful of clouds of invasive dust amid the impending disruption, fled to the further ends of the property to collect carobs while I oversaw the workers.

PLUMBING THE OUTLET PIPE INTO THE DRAIN

She collected a great many carobs for which our farmer neighbour was most grateful. (To show his gratitude, he brought us another bucket of strawberries that we have shared with neighbours.) We'd like to finish bringing in the carob crop before we go away. Our departure is set for next Friday afternoon so this may well be my last blog for several weeks.



Mini continues to make a big impact. She spends hours play-fighting with the two female orphans. The three sprint around the house and garden in a game of canine cowboys and indians while the older dogs wonder whether they should be joining in.



Where we struggle is to limit her food intake. She's been promoted to Hyena Number One, well ahead of her much larger rivals, Bobby and Russ. The little dog wolfs down her meals before we've even finished dishing out the plates and then tries - often successfully - to get her nose in others' bowls.

SETTLING DOWN FOR THE NIGHT

We returned home one evening to find a few torn shreds of cardboard on the cobbles, all that remained of the unopened box of treat biscuits that I had foolishly left on a table. We have our suspicions as to the main culprits but our inquiries have made little progress.



As ever, we've had a fairly social week. May's nephew, Ken, joined us for dinner at the Joli Bela, a small, hugely popular chicken and chip restaurant that hides in the back streets of Loule. Jones and I used to frequent it while living at the Quintassential but we hadn't been there in years.



It hasn't changed. The bar area was all but hidden behind the crowds waiting either for a seat or take-aways. Two waiters struggled to keep up with the demands of the diners. I'm glad to report that the chicken and chips were as good as ever.

RUI CONFIRMS THE MOUNTING POINT AS THE BOSS LADIES LOOK ON

I slipped up to the community centre in Benafim one morning to witness the installation in the dining room of a TV set to which we made a contribution. It's a flat screen model that replaces a smaller bulky set that diners strained to watch.



My contact, Rosa, confided that she had just retired from the administration although she continues to spend a lot of time there. She's about to set off on holiday to the Azores as we pack for Madeira.



Half a mile away on the other side of the town is the busy studio where Mary runs her hair and beauty salon. She agreed to let me snap her picture while she trimmed my toe nails. This is a service I greatly appreciate as it's not a chore that Jones fancies nor one that I can easily accomplish myself. Mary has a couple of assistants who attend to the beauty side and the perm basics. She's cheery, chatty and not too fussed about the time. Her salon is not a place to go when one is in a hurry.

Letter from Espargal: 17 September 2016

This week's blog comes in diary form.

Monday: Have I been complaining about the heat? That must have been some time ago. As happens so often, like a river coming to a waterfall, mid-September seems to tip over into a new season. The day dawned somewhat overcast and cool. It was a lovely feeling. One almost wondered whether it was necessary to go through the morning sun-cream smearing routine.


SEA SQUILL EMERGING

As if to emphasise the point, the first sea squill ornithogalums - autumn's harbingers - have started springing up in the park. Temperatures have fallen about 10*, both inside and out.


ONO & SEA SQUILL FLOWERING

Within a few days the flowers start to open. Soon the park will become a sea of white.

The real news is that the rain promised for Tuesday actually fell - 8.5mm of it. Happily the weather bureau's warnings of accompanying thunder and high winds did not materialise; we caught just the tail-end of the depression that came rolling in across Iberia from the Atlantic. It was our first rain in four months, and so so welcome. With any luck it's put an end to Portugal's wildfire season. It also meant that Jones could take a day off from watering her garden, summer's major chore.


DRIED FIGS, BROUGHT INSIDE TO AVOID THE RAIN

Saturday: Armenio brought us a box of strawberries, enough to feed most of the expat community in Espargal. His family have been growing the fruit this year for sale at the local markets - it would seem with great success.



Earlier: Jones took most of last Friday off - while I looked after the ranch - to join Llewellyn and Lucia on a visit to Alcoutim on Portugal's river border with Spain. Friday was the first day of the town's three-day annual festa although festivities were barely getting underway during their visit. Thank you L&L for your pics.

The view from Alcoutim to Sanlucar across the Guadiana.[/caption]

The threesome took a ferry across the Guadiana to Sanlucar in Spain for lunch. More adventurous souls had the opportunity of returning to Portugal down a long zip-wire that crossed the river. L&L and Barbara decided to stick with the ferry; they could see figures whizzing down the wire as the returned.

Barbara & Lucia waiting on the ferry to Spain.

Sunday: On their last evening the group headed up to the telef to watch the sunset. With them our visitors took a special bottle of alcohol-free champagne that they'd acquired for the occasion (L&L having given up alcoholic drinks some time ago). Half an hour later they returned most impressed by the quality of the champagne and distinctly merry. Little wonder! they'd taken the wrong bottle from the fridge.

Sundowners at the Telef on our last evening.

Monday: saw their early departure for the airport. They returned, as their house sitters had warned them, to a home with two ailing pets. We gathered subsequently that Hazel, the dog, had been diagnosed with a sprained knee; she is already on the mend; Tigger, the cat, who's been in poor health for some time, would appear to be approaching his natural end.

Showing Lucia around the orchard.

Tues: We carobbed under a tree in the field we bought last year, a tree that clearly hadn't been tended in yonks. The branches hung almost to the ground, along with masses of dead wood. I had taken a strimmer to the jungle of prickly weeds beneath the tree, clearing the worst of them but leaving many the thorns in place. Carobs were picked up gingerly. I've been pricked too often.


MARY'S GARDEN

Wednesday: We took ourselves to the spacious Leroy Merlin hardware hypermarket at Guia, returning with a new bench for the patio and a great deal more. I'm a fan of Leroy Merlin. Not only do they have an extensive range of goods and adequate staff on hand to guide one, they also boast an excellent little cafe.


PALLY TAKES THE MORNING SUN

In the evening we caught up with Ken (May's nephew, down from Edinburgh) at JL's, a mid-point snack bar. He's in the process of putting the house on the market. We sat outside as usual because JL's is one of the few places that allows smoking inside. We were wrapped up warm. The temperature had dropped (by almost half) to C18* and the wind was sharp. What a difference a week can make! Mind you, temps are due to climb back into the low 30s by the weekend.


AZURE-WINGED MAGPIES PLUNDERING THE BIRD FEEDER

Thur: An engineer arrived to discuss the installation of more air conditioners in the house. Jones is not keen. But she compromised on the spare room and the study as long as the living room was left unconditioned. The engineer sketched the options and we agreed to visit his showrooms to explore the possibilities.


HERE'S ONE FOR YOU

Then we went to look over the house that Mike and Liz will be renting on the outskirts of Benafim. It's an interesting structure. Some parts of it look much older than others as though each succeeding generation had added a room or two. Should suit them well.


INDEPENDENCE DAY

Lunchtime Quim Quim delivered a metre of sand and ten bags of cement. I still have adequate gravel. My hope is to finish the concrete path around the park over the next two Saturdays, before the arrival of our house sitters on the 29th of this month. Madeira beckons. We have booked a week in Funchal and several days in Porto Moniz.

Letter from Espargal: 9 September 2016

This blog oozes into life around 17.00 on Monday afternoon in the study where Jones and I are both at our desks, she briefly before watering her garden.  I am seated in front of the tower fan, pausing every few minutes to mop the drops of perspiration dribbling down my neck or to squirt a fine spray of water towards the fan - not that it helps much. The reading on the thermometer is C29*; on the patio outside it's about 10 degrees higher.



The heat is all embracing. There is no escaping it. Through the window a thin blue sky is visible, clamped over us like an upturned oven dish. There's just a hint of movement among tree tops protruding above the patio railings, not enough to offer any relief. The dogs are camped in various corners of the study and living room.



Even Pally, a dyed in the wool outsider, has sought refuge inside. It's the hottest afternoon of the summer, one that was predicted several days ago along with numerous warnings to the public to act accordingly. This is not an option open to the fire-fighters trying to extinguish the huge blaze in the hills between Portimao and Monchique, an hour to the west of us.


(THURSDAY) SMOKE FROM THE FIRE FILLS OUR SKIES

The next day or two are forecast to be nearly as hot. Then, mercifully, temperatures are due to fall to around the 30* mark, at least for the next week. The weather bureau reports that this summer has been the hottest and driest since 1931. It has certainly been the hardest to bear that I can recall, an ominous foretaste of the globally-warmed world that awaits us. The very air we breathe seems to have been singed in a furnace.


FLOPPED OUT

I am biding my time until 18.00 when I must go outside to irrigate my young vines, a weekly task. Jones insists that one is less conscious of the heat when one is actually outside doing something useful like picking up carobs or watering the flowers. I reserve my doubts.



Jones has been carrying on regardless - this in spite of nursing several injured finger-tips, the result of scooping the crystalised remains from an old earthen flower bowl with bare hands.



The bowl itself is one of several whose fragments had been tossed on to a heap across the road from the Hamburgo, fragments that caught Jones's eye. I managed to glue some of the bits together. The remaining gaps are being disguised with suitable greenery.


FLOWERING YUCCA GROWING IN SECTION OF TRUNK

Sevenish we'll go walking. We keep a sharp eye on the dogs to see how they're coping with the heat. The youngsters carry on much as usual but the bigger, older beasts pant furiously. We pause with them in the shade and, if necessary, cut things short. Barbara likes to get back home in time to to watch the sunset from the telef, an ambition that conflicts with her need to finish the watering.



Morning and evening we top up the stone bird bath, more for the benefit of the bees than the birds. The former swarm around it throughout the day, seeking refreshment. There's little to be found right now in the dry bed of the Algibre river. The birds have more fun under the sprinkers that Jones sets whirring among her plants.



Llewellyn and Lucia are spending the last of four days at Milfontes (A Thousand Springs) on the west coast, a popular tourist resort on the banks of the River Mira. They have used it largely as a base to explore the region as they have reminded us with daily emailed pictures.


THE HOLES AND ARROWS GIVE THE CLUE

A pause here for thought in order to report on the week's successes. One that comes to mind is the adjustment of my new watch strap. The jeweller who supplied it had removed a link too many for comfort. So, with the assistance of a demo on YouTube, I set about replacing it myself. This appears somewhat simpler on the screen than it is in practice, especially when one lacks the right tools. Nonetheless, it was accomplished and the strap is now comfortable around my wrist.



It was with some surprise that I glanced down at my phone to see that I had somehow opened the health page linked to my Pebble watch - not something I've done before. The information it supplied speaks for itself.  While I was well aware that smart watches convey such health-related information to their wearers, this was a first experience for me - a step up from the pedometer I once possessed.



Wednesday morning: We have carefully filled in, (had) witnessed, registered and posted off assurances to the UK government that we are still alive and kicking and desirous of continuing to receive the pensions they pay us. A BBC radio programme earlier this week explained how and why the pension system arose and why it is now deep in crisis in most of the western world. It was quite scary listening.


THE FIG TREES ARE IN FULL FRUIT

If it brought home anything, it was how lucky our generation has been, those of us with final salary pensions - good fortune that the generation behind us is unlikely to share.



L&L arrived back from the West Coast last night and have gone off to the beach. Llewellyn, whose movements are being tracked by Google (with his blessing) keeps on getting requests from Google for pictures of particular facilities in the resorts he is visiting.


POOPED

An exhausted Mini has returned from a two-hour jaunt in the hills. She starts out with us on the morning walk and then takes herself off, she alone knows where. Her absence twice drove an anxious Jones up to the telef to call for her. My wife says we have to train the dog to return with the rest of the pack but short of keeping her on a lead I don't see how it can be done.



Wednesday evening: We are back from a light supper at JL's snack bar. The temperature has fallen sharply and the wind is up. What welcome relief it brings! The girls have put on jackets to sit out on the patio. Mini, Mello and Sparky are playing high-speed chase games around the garden.



Thursday: I joined some of my neighbours to watch a digger building a wall from huge slabs of rock at the bottom of the village.


OLD WALL ON THE LEFT, NEW WALL ON THE RIGHT

Then along came a truck with a new supply of slabs that it tipped into the drive with a thunderous crash amid a cloud of dust. One is reminded just how unpleasant it is to be caught inside a shaky building in an earthquake.