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Ellie and Hub lived in Lagoa 10
years ago, while in their early 40's, they had a carpentry business near
Algoz.
You can reach Ellie at: Gantree1@aol.com |
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Back To Business
The apartment where I stay in Carvoeiro overlooks a busy little back
road and has a kind of cliff face opposite. I spent quite a bit of
the day sitting on my small balcony with a cool drink, just lazing
in the warm sunshine and watching the birds that circle above;
pigeons that seem to come from a tiny sort of shack on the cliff
top. They circle high above the apartment block and then go back to
roost at the small dwelling. Its from this little shack that the
cockerel crows and whenever I hear it I think of our time in the
countryside and of the old Portuguese woman who kept chickens just
along the road from where I worked the large garden…
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It is around Easter time in ’94 and we had just arrived back at our
workshops, after an ‘interesting’ long drive overland from England.
I hadn’t slept well that night and woke early to the sound of old
Miguel’s dogs. Feeling somewhat drowsy, I grabbed my wash bag and
towel and very quietly let myself out of the campervan, making my
way over to the washroom next to the workshop’s office and indulged
in a cool shower in order to wake myself properly.
When I got back Hub had a kettle on and Jamie was starting to stir.
A knock on the camper’s door startled us but on opening it we found
old Miguel beaming up at us and holding out his hand. Jamie jumped
down from his lofty bed above the cabin and was soon outside
chatting to Miguel (we always called him ‘Senhor’ Miguel out of
respect). He seemed genuinely pleased to see us. As we chatted about
ourselves and the business (he in broken English and we in
‘fractured’ Portuguese!), Jamie asked where Belo, the little
Chihuahua-type dog was? Miguel looked sad and went on to tell us
that Belo had run out of the main gates one day into the busy road
and was knocked down and killed. |
Jamie was upset at this news. Belo had been considered his dog by
all the workers as he used to follow Jamie around all the time and
they had played together. Belo was also a hero. He had killed a
large Adder that had been troubling the workers who picked the
fruit. We always found it amazing that such a tiny dog had killed
this large snake. My thoughts went to Calado, our young Portuguese
carpenter lad, who had been called up for army service; of how he
had teased me with the body of the dead snake when he learnt of my
snake phobia!
But now Belo was gone and we all felt rather sad. However Miguel
said they had another dog called ‘Sputz’ and he took Jamie to meet
him. We couldn’t tell what breed the dog was; it was what one might
call an ‘all sorts’! But it was a nice little dog and Jamie soon
made friends with it.
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Carlos and Maria turned up later that morning in our old Renault van
with their two boys, Miguel and Ricardo who were on school holidays
and I can tell you all, that it was quite a tearful reunion as I
greeted my old friend.
Carlos had done a good job. The business had been running well with
some good orders and lots of repair work. Apart from the robbery
that took place soon after we reached England, all had gone
smoothly. Young Miguel, Carlos’ son, was a teenager now and had been
helping his dad out at weekends and was showing promise as a good
carpenter.
Maria asked me to have coffee with her one morning and when I said
Hub would drop me off in Lagoa, she said “No. I pick you up here”. I
looked at her puzzled, then she laughed and said “That’s my
surprise. I drive now!”
It was very strange having Maria drive me to town but she seemed
very good at it and quite confident. We went to the little café in
Lagoa’s park and ordered toasted sandwiches; Maria laugh when I told
her how much I had missed them. But there was a sadness in her eyes,
sort of anxious look; I had noticed this when we met at the
workshops and I wondered what was wrong. |
Somehow or other we got round to talking about the church. Although
Maria belonged to the church choir she wasn’t a regular churchgoer
and only went on special occasions. She didn’t like the local
priests and moaned constantly about them turning up at her house and
asking for donations. I could understand this as they didn’t have
much money to spare with two growing boys. But her sad look was
nothing to do with the priests. She told me her story.
One day, after shopping in the high street she had walked back to
her house when suddenly a notice caught her eye. It was outside a
small building and advertised a meeting for the ‘Seventh Day
Adventists’. Maria was a modern young woman with an open mind; she
took note of the date and time of the meeting.
Under pretext of going to see the lady she worked for, she went
along to the meeting. She became very interested in this movement
and decided it was what she was looking for, in answering her
religious questions and so she went along to several more. The last
time that she went, Maria was sitting in the small hall listening to
a speaker when suddenly there was a loud noise as the door burst
open. When she looked round who should she see but Carlos and his
parents. They walked straight up to her through the packed hall and
demanded that she leave the building and as she stood up they
literally frog-marched her out of the hall. She told me it was
obvious that she had been followed and as she spoke tears sprang up
in her eyes as she said how embarrassing it had been for her, with
everyone in the hall looking at her. But I think there was more to
it. She was quite a strong-willed woman and she had felt hurt and
humiliated at being treated this way. I must say that I felt anger
at a grown woman not being able to choose her own religion. But I
forgot, that although it was 1994, Portugal was still a macho
country and still a place where the husband’s word is law and in
this case Carlos had his parents there to aid him, whilst Maria’s
own family lived a long way off close to Lisbon. She had no choice
but to give up going to those meetings.
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When I told Hub he was angry too as he liked Maria. She had been a
wonderful friend to me and had often helped us with the business
acting as an interpreter. But he also told me it was none of our
business what went on between husband and wife. Trouble was, I could
see a change in Maria, there was resentment and I felt that life
between her and Carlos would not be the same again. I can’t say that
I blamed her for feeling that way, though I took Hub’s advice and
kept my feelings to myself.
I recall Hub dropping me off in Lagoa one day to do some shopping,
saying he’d pick me up on his way back; this I was going to enjoy! I
could have a nice, leisurely stroll around the town, then have a
little rest and a coffee in the park. Of course I headed for the
street we had lived in and sat in the nearby park (the one with the
‘Nossa Senhora’ shrine). Gazing up at our top floor apartment and
wishing myself in there once more. My eyes wandered to the left and
the flat roof of the large house next door and memories wafted back.
I recalled the young man who used to practise his Karate on that
roof on hot summer nights. There he would be in his white outfit,
throwing punches and kicks at an invisible foe and then, when he’d
exhausted himself, would stretch out on a wide ledge and sleep
beneath the stars.
I remembered his father, who on celebration nights such as New Year,
would come out onto the roof terrace and let off rockets from his
hand up into the midnight dark sky. |
I wanted to be back in that apartment but there wasn’t much chance
of that, I expect it had been let to someone as soon as we moved
out.
Having coffee with Maria one day, I asked her if Carlos had done any
repairs for Sally lately? But she shook her head saying “No. Shop is
closed. Sally has gone”
I was quite shocked to hear this. Somewhere in the back of my mind I
had half hoped that I might be able to get my garden job back again;
it was a vain hope I know but I had thought it possible. But now all
hope of that had gone.
The school Easter holidays were nearing an end and soon we were
delivering Jamie back to Faro airport. Jeff was to pick him up at
Stansted, in order that he could return to school and his studies.
Although I had dreaded the moment he was to go and knew we would
miss him dreadfully, I didn’t feel quite so bad after we had a long
chat with him.
He had met up with old school pals in Silves but he told us he
didn’t feel the same about the place anymore and that he was glad to
be going back to England; that there was more going on for him
there, not just school and his mates but facilities, like cinemas,
theatres and most of all for an academic like him, libraries and
museums. When I heard this I felt some relief; at least he would be
happy and I was sure he and Jeff would probably have a good time
living together.
We were still living in the campervan and I was getting a bit fed up
with the cramped conditions. The weather was warming up and I missed
having a garden very much. We were on a hard standing next to the
workshops and we had beautiful surroundings of lemon and orange
groves but there wasn’t much privacy; you could say that we were at
work ‘all the time’!
In town one day, I decided to go to the farmacia to get myself some
sun protection cream. My skin had started to tingle in the
increasingly warmer weather. Having very fair skin I knew that was a
sign that I should be wearing a sun cream.
The farmacia was quite busy and I waited near the door. The chemist
was serving a woman and advising her on something; the voice sounded
familiar. As she turned and came towards the door she smiled at me,
then looked shocked,
“Ellie! What on earth you doing here?”
It was Sally.
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