HOT SUN RISES
Last weekend we made our annual pilgrimage to the parish fund-raising party - the Benafim Corn Festival, highlight of the summer season and an occasion we never miss. And since there's not much to report, you might as well get to meet a few of the characters.
CORN FESTIVAL
"We", in this instance, was the Bensons and our neighbours, the Masseys. Pictured above - down from Dublin - are Massey daughter, Anita, and her niece, Chloe. More Masseys follow. (Feel free to scroll up if you're not in the mood to meet people.)
We settle ourselves around tables on the cobbles that slope down to the community centre and the dance floor. There's a choice of wine, beer and soft drinks to accompany either the traditional maize porridge (my preference), salads or barbecued chicken. Dress code is relaxed. As long as you wear something, it doesn't matter what. As ever, the ladies tend to take more care with their choice of garb than the lads.
This is Fintan (daddy Massey), arriving with a jug of sangria. The concoction didn't meet with universal approval, prompting wrinkled noses and pursed lips. I can't tell you why. There was certainly nothing wrong with the wine and the beer. What was a problem was the occasional, unpredictable gust of wind that sent our plastic cups and their contents flying across the tables.
After each gust we'd clutch our cups for a few minutes and then forgetfully put them back on the table. Three times Barbara's red wine narrowly missed her skirt. She was just proclaiming her good fortune when it got her with another gust. (Fortunately, the stains washed out!) Here she exchanges some thoughts with Pauline (momma Massey).
The festa is a mighty convivial affair. Come to say hello were - right to left - Selina (daughter of Manuel & Graça, who run the nearby Hamburgo restaurant), Luis (who assists Manuel) and Luis's wife (Marisa). The Hamburgo, as you may have gathered, is at the centre of our social lives. We hardly know what to do with ourselves when it shuts its doors for a winter break.
Selina (in the red dress above), like Chloe (right) is an ace social media exponent. Chloe's thumbs piston up and down on her mobile phone keyboard like a couple of sewing machine needles. She can even text one-handed with her phone in her pocket. From her I learned a great deal about Snapchat, Instagram and other apps that are apparently integral to the lives of every wifi-wired, smartphone-equipped teenager.
Anita is another accomplished iPhone exponent. She has the gift of mixing easy charm and discretion so that companions are aware of the former rather than the latter. It's possible to enjoy a pleasant evening's conversation with her, only to realise later that you're none the wiser as to whether she's a model, a mechanic or a hospital matron. Somewhere along the lines at the festa, she acquired a hat. Wish the camera were half as kind to me.
On the patio below us, a crooner belted out popular songs and folks did a little old-fashioned whirling around. As always, there were more gals than guys on the dance floor so the girls simply danced with one another. If the evenings have been perfect for partying, the days have been cooked up in hell as Portugal sweltered on the fringes of the Lucifer heatwave that has stifled southern Europe.
The mornings have been just tolerable. In the afternoons I've had a fixed appointment with the air conditioner in the study - the dogs sprawled supine around me. Jones says she feels cooler if she works in the garden. With luck, the worst of the weather is behind us. It's almost time to look forward to our coming holiday in the Portuguese islands although the weather news there hasn't been encouraging.
YES, IT'S TRYING TO LAND
For three days high winds semi-closed (Madeira's) Funchal airport - considered one of the world's most demanding - stranding some 15,000 travellers. Departing passengers were being transferred several hours by ship to the neighbouring island of Porto Santo, whose small airport was still operating.
We're also planning a few days in the Azores, undeterred by the gale that shut down our departure airport last time. On that occasion passengers were taken in a corkscrewing ferry across to an adjacent island with an airport in the lee of the wind. The flight that followed was almost as hairy as the boat ride!
Changing tack: In the centre of the picture you may see a most beautiful butterfly that Jones spotted clinging to a flower in her garden, and hastened to photograph. It's wings were folded together so she couldn't get a full shot.
Judging by similar pictures on the internet, it would appear to be the Scarce Swallowtail, also known as the Pear-Tree Swallowtail. What a gorgeous creature! I reflect often on the irony that some creatures need to be ugly or, at least, plain in order that others may be beautiful.
HOMEWARD BOUNDBarbara found Portuguese neighbours deeply upset midweek when she went round to fetch the cheese and bread delivery that they take in on our behalf. A day after their bull terrier bitch had given birth to seven puppies, she consumed the entire litter. The shocked neighbours had no explanation. They had endeavoured not to interfere with the pups, which the mother had moved once or twice. From my subsequent reading on the internet I gather that the phenomenon is not uncommon.
Another neighbour, Armenio, to whom we give our carobs, arrived at our gates one evening with a load of melons, grapes and tomatoes. He told us about events in his orchard (just beyond the village) where a heavily-laden bough had broken away from a huge old plum tree - one whose fruits we have enjoyed in the past. This windfall delighted the wild boar that have been raiding the orchard nightly by the light of the moon.
The visitors have not only scooped up the plums lying on the ground but have also stripped the tree of all the fruit within reach. Between the pigs and the birds, not a lot has been left to humans. Let me add that after 15 years of walking the hills, we've yet to come across wild boar during the day - although others have, and we have seen a couple on the road at night!
Enough unto the week!
JONES SUNSET FROM THE HILLTOP ONE CLOUDY EVENING
No comments:
Post a Comment