Letter from Espargal: 26 May 2017

Saturday: Slavic and I laid another strip of concrete to smooth out the section of roadway between the dirt circuit that approaches the house and concrete driveway. The roadway is steep and the gravel surface can prove treacherous to pedestrians.



I'd rescued some cast-out aluminium shelving struts from a roadside bin to act as reinforcement. My part in the operation was to tractor barrows of fresh concrete 25 metres from the mixer to the site. Slavic's part was to do everything else.



After our walk I managed to take a tick off my neck before it bit into me. I'm still on anti-biotics following the last bite. Barbara was less lucky. The tick she discovered had already latched on to her skull. It's all but impossible to avoid the blighters on our walks at this time of year, no matter how carefully we check ourselves.

FIELD OF CENTAURY & HELICHRYSUM

On the spam email front I can report that the UN Deputy Secretary General and Melania Trump are among the philanthropists who have sought to bestow a fortune on me in exchange for a smidgeon of personal information and a modest deposit - as usual, via their West African offices. Bliksems! They're as bad as the ticks.



You may have come across my recent blog queries about a 1937 German nursing award made to an aunt of my neighbour, Liz Brown, who has been anxious to learn more. Now, from the Museum of Military Medicine in the Netherlands, the Browns have received the following background info:



The German pocket battleship, (Deutschland) that was moored at the Spanish port of Ibiza, was mistakenly bombed (May 1937) by the Spanish Republlcan Air Force during the Spanish Civil War. This attack killed 20 German sailors and seriously wounded 80. (British) medical personnel from RAMC and QAIMNS rendered assistance and some of the wounded were evacuated to and treated at the British Military Hospital in Gibraltar. Out of "appreciation and gratitude to the medical officers for the care of the wounded", Hitler granted the award of the German Red Cross to medical personnel involved. The decoration came in 3 classes with a fourth termed the"Ladies Cross". 23 crosses were awarded to the medical personnel. As to the ethics of wearing the award, there was much debate and it is believed that no recipient wore it.

As the incident was news to me, I turned to Wikipedia:



On May 29, 1937, a pair of Tupolev SB Soviet bombers attached to the Spanish Republican air force raided Nationalist air bases and the port of Ibiza.. The German heavy cruiser Deutschland, which was part of the International Non-Intervention Committee patrol, was anchored off Ibiza and was allegedly misidentified by the bombers' crew as the Nationalist heavy cruiser Canarias. Two Soviet pilots, Captain Anton Progrorin and Lieutenant Vassily Schmidt, dropped their bombs on the Deutschland, causing large fires on the ship, killing 31 sailors and wounding 74.



Sunday: The day dawned thick and mucky with sand from the Sahara. Yuck! Over lunch with friends, I used Google's "find phone" facility to seek the whereabouts of a missing phone belonging to one of our companions. Google regretted that it couldn't trace the device. The owner said maybe that was because the battery was flat. It's also possible that the phone was not configured to reveal its location. (It's still missing!)


On the subject of phones - I've set the Google Maps app in my phone and Barbara's to reveal our locations to each other, as much as an experiment as anything. In subsequent tests I found the software eerily accurate. At least it should simplify any future attempts to trace a missing phone. I don't doubt that the facility is a boon to parents. It was brought to my attention by Llewellyn, who uses it to follow Lucia's journey home from work in order to have dinner piping hot and ready to be served when she arrives.

OUR HOLLYHOCK

In the garden Barbara called my attention to a gurgling sound that was coming from a rockery that housed a tap. Testimony to the leak came from the surrounding plants, which were as happy as Larry. I hurried to shut off the valve. Barbara saw euro signs in the damp earth (like dollar signs, only worse!) The repair is a job for Slavic on Saturday.



Late evening I watched a Western entitled The Homesman - the strangest movie! A battered-looking Tommy Lee Jones (who also directed) assists Hilary Swank to escort three mentally-disturbed women across the plains to a refuge in the east. It's a movie where very little is predictable - rewarding rather than easy viewing. It reminded me of the Coen brothers' productions.

ORIENTAL POPPY, ONE OF THREE GROWN BY BARBARA FROM DONATED PLANTS

Jones slept, or tried to, against the background of occasional distressing howls from the unfortunates. She's not into stressful films.



Monday: My English class talked about the Blue Whale phenomenon. A Portuguese youth living in Ireland has died, apparently after taking up the online "challenge". The Portuguese authorities are warning schools of the dangers and investigating numerous reports of self harm arising among followers of the craze. It was created by a Russian student who felt that it was a good way to rid the earth of inferior individuals. I hope he takes some of his own medicine.

SWALLOWTAIL

I watched a 30 minute TV interview in which an unusually hapless Theresa May was flailed after succumbing to party pressure to reverse an unpopular tenet of the newly-issued Conservative manifesto. As dreadful as the Manchester bombing that evening was, both Jones and I reflected that the prime minister must have been grateful to be out of the headlines. It brings to mind the infamous 2001 Jo Moore episode when the UK Labour government adviser suggested that the government publish its bad news in the wake of the attack on the World Trade Centre. Machiavelli would have approved.



Tuesday: After visiting Olhao, just beyond Faro, we tracked back west along the coast to lunch at the Electrico, a favourite snack bar on Faro beach. Sandwiches and a glass of wine are typical fare. However, there's a group of older men for whom the proprietor sometimes prepares a sumptuous meal - not sure how often.



From their conversation and tastes, we speculate that they are professionals of some kind. Over sandwiches, with the dogs at our feet - too hot to leave them in the car - we watched in fascination as a succession of plates and bottles of wine were delivered to their table.



On the way home we stopped at the newly-opened Ikea store that has risen like a giant box midway between Faro and Loule. The site  looks  more like a township than a shopping centre, reached  off the adjacent highway via a confusing series of traffic circles.

WHERE DOES ONE START?

All around the warehouse-like Ikea building, construction continues apace. Signs inform visitors that more than 100 shops and a multiplex are coming. We didn't explore the store, contenting ourselves with coffees (once staff had shown us how to use the self-service coffee machines).



Wednesday: Carlos the vet arrived at 13.00 to vaccinate the dogs - that's our nine and two of our neighbours'. In preparation we had buried tranquilizer pills in the three orphans' breakfasts and managed to enclose the little dogs in the south patio. Even so, tranquilized they were not. Between us we managed to secure them all long enough to be jabbed, and for Sparky to have her problematic ears treated. (The improvement is encouraging.)



Then we bribed the rest to sit still long enough for Carlos to inject them, having blocked off the door to the kennel to prevent Bobby seeking refuge there. It was done in an hour. Proof of rabies vaccination is required for the renewal of dog licences.

GIANT FENNEL

Thursday: After our walk I got Jones to check my torso and neck for ticks. She found none. Ten minutes later I plucked one off the back of my head. And ten minutes after that I plucked another off my crown. How on earth do they get there? I always wear a hat outside the house. I'm sick of ticks. Jones is sick of hay fever. So is Jodi, who gave me my weekly tune-up today. She says she needs a double daily dose of allergy suppressant in order to function.



I trimmed Russ. At this time of year he needs trimming at least once a fortnight. Russ was never intended by his genes to endure Algarve summers. He was designed for cooler climes. He's the sweetest guy, albeit a bit strange. His den is the spare room. When I come downstairs, he emerges. When I go upstairs, he returns.



Later we went to the Browns  for a joint house-warming cum farewell to our old friends and long-standing Sunday co-brunchers, Sadie and John. The couple has decided, after decades in Portugal, to return to the UK.



Sadie's in her 80s, John in his 90s. For their company and reminiscences, we thank them. We shall miss them. Go well!

SOME OF THE GANG AT THE FAREWELL