I’ve been trying to go for a walk every day recently.
Since I’m living on my own, stuck inside my house most of the time, I certainly need to get out and do something every now and again. I’d go mad otherwise.
So I wander over to the Salinas (saltpans) opposite my house in Fuseta and walk for four, maybe five miles. It gets me out of the house, it allows me to get some sun on my face, it relaxes me, and if needs be, I can stop at the supermarket on the way back.
Today is different though.
Today I need to go and see Vitor, my builder, check how he’s doing and give him some money.
There are two problems though: getting there and getting money.
I have a couple of options when it comes to getting there: I can catch the train or I can walk.
I’d take the van, but I’ve heard that there are a few police stops around, and with my Portuguese not being what it should be, I can do without the hassle. The equivalent to an MOT is due, and I’m not 100% sure what has been decided about that. I presume that the period for testing cars and vans has been extended, but if it hasn’t?
So the obvious option is the train, but they’re not as frequent as usual, and I’m not sure how I feel about getting on public transport right now.
That leaves walking. So I’m going to walk.
Is this allowed within the current rules?
Over the Easter weekend, everyone was told not to leave their local Municipality, but I think that this restriction has now been lifted.
Anyway, this walk won’t be taking me outside of the Municipality, so that side of things is fine.
Exercise is allowed under the current regulations, so that’s good too.
It’s also recommended that we stay indoors as much as possible, but we’re allowed to go to work, and this is my work. I’ll be walking to work to see what progress has been made and discuss with Vitor what needs to be done next.
Another tick.
Social-distancing is recommended too. Fortunately, I doubt I’ll see anyone on my stroll along the coast. I rarely do.
So, all in all, it seems the right option. I’d be going for a walk anyway, and it will be nice to see some different scenery. It will also give me a chance to see what is happening in the outside world – ie Olhao.
So one problem is sorted. The second problem is getting some money – I can’t expect Vitor to work for nothing, and I’ve had trouble transferring money from my Portuguese Bank Account. There seems to be some sort of limit on it (at least I presume there is) and it doesn’t seem to want to play.
So I need to get hold of some money somehow.
I decide to wait until I get to Olhao. At the ATM inside my branch, I can take out €500. External ATMs only give me €200.
So that’s my plan – walk and take out some money when I get there.
I pull on my walking boots, grab a bottle of water and a rucksack and set off.
I head up through the square, up towards Fuseta-A, the railway station, and then down to the trail that leads through the Ria Formosa from Fuseta towards Olhao.
It’s 7-8 miles all in all, but I love it – every minute of it. The sun is out, the sky is blue and there’s a gentle breeze to keep me cool. There is wildlife in abundance, birds in particular. On the whole walk, at least until I reach Olhao, I only see 2 couples out for a stroll, and one old bloke relaxing in the sun on the side of the path with a beer. He looks happy. He acknowledges me with a minimal wave of his hand and a guttural “Tarde.” Afternoon.
As I head towards Olhao, I have a choice to make. I can either take the direct route to my house, or nip down to the front to see if anything is going on.
I take the second option – my bank is there after all.
This also takes me past the Centro de Inspecção, the place where I’ll need to take my car for its MOT, or IPO (Inspecção Périodica Obrigatória) as it’s called over here. The testing centre is closed, so I presume that I was right, that the testing period has been extended. I make a note to investigate further.
As I walk into Olhao, there are a few cars travelling around and a few people wandering the streets, but not many.
I pass one of my favourite bars, Olho Na Ria, and notice that the door is open, with a table wedged into it to stop people coming in. I peer inside – from a distance obviously – and see Paulo, the proprietor leaning over his bar reading something.
“Ola, Paulo.”
He looks up and smiles – more out of politeness than happiness, I think.
“Hello, my friend.”
He speaks a little English, having spent a few years in the UK as a painter/decorator.
Paulo is one of the people I’ve been truly worried about. He has a business, his bar, but even in the high season he doesn’t make huge money. We try and help out obviously by drinking there, but…
He approaches the door but not too close.
“How are things?” I ask
He shrugs.
“I start at 6 every morning, I sell a few coffees.”
I don’t know what I was expecting. A broken man? But no, Paulo isn’t broken. He’s just trying to do his best to survive. Stoic is the word that I’d use. It’s people like Paulo who make the world go round, and also make it a better place.
We chat for a while, and then I leave.
“Stay safe, my friend,” he calls after me.
“You too, Paulo. Hopefully I will be back soon to drink a beer outside your bar.”
“Yes, that would be good…” Probably the understatement of the year as far as Paulo is concerned.
I carry on to the bank.
There’s a couple using the ATM outside, but that’s fine. I don’t want to use that one anyway.
I head for the door.
Bollocks… there’s a big sign on it. I read it, even though it’s in Portuguese. It goes along the lines of: ‘Please do not enter the bank. Queue outside and wait for a member of staff to let you in.’
I then notice an English version of the notice and am glad to see that I have understood correctly, but a little pissed off to notice that there isn’t much happening inside the branch.
Are they all at lunch? Who knows…
But I know it’s not worth hanging around, I’ll have to use the external ATM and only take out €200.
As I said before: Bollocks…
I look up and notice that the couple have finished and that the ATM is free. I approach it.
It’s at this point that I hesitate.
Mmmmm…. An ATM. How many virus-infected hands have touched that?!
I take a deep breath, and pause for a moment. I think.
Luckily, I have my fleece with me, wrapped around my waist. I take the sleeve and cover my index finger. I insert my card with my left hand, and then, when asked, try to tap in my PIN number with my right, fleece-covered index finger.
Blimey that’s hard! Trying to apply pressure only to one button with a fleece wrapped around you finger isn’t easy!
Still, I manage it, and manage to extract the money as well – bonus!
I head off towards my house, but I’m feeling a little uneasy. My index finger is tingling. I know that I used my fleece to cover it, but even so, just touching the ATM through material is a strange experience.
How many times have I used an ATM in my life? Thousands probably. And now, for the first time, I’m suddenly thinking about how many fingers have used that ATM and what those fingers have touched, and what germs I’m possibly picking up.
I’m not sure that I’ll ever be able to use an ATM without that thought again. The fact that I’m going to have to take money out daily for Vitor slightly unnerves me.
Oh well, I’ll pass that hurdle when I come to it.
5 minutes later, I’m at the house.
I let myself in, and I see Vitor. He has a big smile on his face – I haven’t seen him for over a month. He comes bounding towards me, elbow pointed in my direction: “Ola, David!”
We both laugh, and bump elbows.
He then proceeds to show me what he has done. We also discuss what is required.
He’s telling me all the things he intends doing. Some of it is good, and some of it is bad. Apparently, the corner of the house, which holds up the roof terrace, is made of rather insubstantial bricks, rather than a pillar. He shows me, and yes, my house is balancing on nothing. He’ll sort it, he says.
I love Vitor, and everything he tells me sounds brilliant. But it will cost.
Ah yes, cost. Money. Dinheiro.
I mention that we need to keep an eye on the cost, hand him the €200, and tell him that I will be back in a few days with €6-800 – enough to keep him going hopefully.
Let’s just hope he doesn’t go too wild in the meantime!
If you want to read more about my experiences during the Coronavirus lockdown of 2020, click on the logo below – this will take you to viralchitchat.com
