I can’t remember if I mentioned it or not, but the other day, I went to see Vitor, my builder, and he’d said that I needed to buy a couple of doors.
“Why?” I asked.
“So I know how big holes must be.”
It was obvious, really!
He’d mentioned to me before, that next week he intended to knock through the walls where the new doors were going to go in the kitchen area. Now he just needed to know how big to make the holes. Fair enough I suppose.
I have doors though. I bought some for my other house, which didn’t get used. Vitor knows this.
“Yes, but they don’t have….. fixings?” He motioned to the wood around the door. He meant the doorframe.
“…and we use them for the bedrooms.”
OK then, Vitor’s in charge – he seems to know what he’s doing. I’m glad someone does, is all I can say!
We’ll buy new doors then.
So he gave me my orders.
“You must go to Matdivers and look.”
I have no idea where Matdivers is, or even what it is…
I must have looked perplexed.
Vitor’s friend, Vitor, who’s helping him on the property, pulled out his phone, tapped in a few things and showed it to me. It was a shop, and it had an address.
I tapped the address into my phone and it showed me where to go – up the EN125-10 to Sao Bras.
“So why do I need to go there?”
“Vitor says they have good doors and cheap,” said Vitor
I know, with two Vitors it gets confusing.
But there’s only one Vitor who can speak English, and that’s the first Vitor, Vitor the builder as I call him – if that helps…
“OK,” I say, “I’ll go and have a look.”
Vitor looked pleased.
So I headed off.
As I wandered towards my van, I wondered whether I should be doing this. Was I allowed to drive ten miles to look at doors? I really wasn’t sure.
I drove out of town, and on the way to Faro, up by the roundabout near McDonalds, I saw a police roadblock. It was on the other side of the road, fortunately.
They weren’t stopping everyone, but there were a few cars that had been pulled over and the police were talking to the drivers.
Mmmmm…. That didn’t look good. I made a mental note to avoid this road on the way back.
I carried on towards Faro.
As I approached the road to Sao Bras, I was confused. I was looking for the 125-10 to Sao Bras. This was the N2 to Sao Bras. Another Mmmmm……
Should I take it? Should I not take it? Should I take it? Should I…?
I didn’t take it.
It definitely wasn’t the N2 that I needed, so I carried on, looking for the next turning, which just happened to be the 125 (or the IC4, depending on which sign you’re looking at) – but heading to Loule.
Bloody hell, this was getting confusing! How many 125s are there?
I turned off anyway, and headed up the road to Loule. I knew where this road went – to IKEA – and I was pretty sure that it wasn’t the right road.
When I got the chance, I pulled over and checked Google Maps. Bollocks! It was the N2 that I should have taken! I was on a dual carriageway now, so I had to go a fair distance before I could turn around and head back the way I’d come.
I puffed out my cheeks, and then just thought: “Ah well, I have nothing better to do…”. So I simply opened the windows, turned up the music (a bit of ‘Tindersticks’), relaxed and carried on.
Eventually, I was back on track: I hit the N2 and was heading north towards Sao Bras.
Cars whizzed past me whenever there was a gap, since I wasn’t driving fast. I was too busy looking for Matdivers, whatever Matdivers was.
Eventually, I saw the sign, just off to the right – a big sign on top of a building. I turned off and looked for a parking spot. There was one on the side of the road opposite the Matdivers building. I took it.
I got out of my car and looked. It turned out Matdivers WAS a shop, a DIY shop, and unlike in Olhao, there was no queue of masked shoppers outside. That was good news.
I entered and yes, it was a big DIY store, but also with some food, pet stuff and what looked like well-priced beer too. Well, that’s a bonus, I thought.
I wandered around, up and down the aisles, making sure not to pass too closely to anyone. A few people did have masks on (and the girls manning the shop had big plastic visors) but not everyone.
I rounded a corner, and then there they were: the doors. There wasn’t a great choice, but I liked a couple of the options, and Vitor (No 2) had been right – the prices were good.
I felt the quality and was happy enough, so I took a couple of photos and sent them back to Vitor the builder, explaining what I thought.
“Now for me!” was what went through my head next.
The beer was stacked near to the tills: four tills, but only two girls on duty, so two tills in use.
I looked around and was pleased to see there was no queue, just a few sporadic shoppers in the aisle behind me, so it seemed like a plan: buy some cheap beer, get served quickly and head off home.
As I was ‘umming and aahing’ as whether to buy one tray of beers or two, a Portuguese guy walked up to me and rattled something off.
I had no idea what he was saying, so I apologised and explained that I didn’t speak Portuguese, only English. He shrugged, smiled (as if to say, moron…) and wandered off.
I really have to learn the lingo…
As I was picking up my beer (I’d eventually decided on one tray of 33s and one tray of 20s), it suddenly occurred to me – was he asking if I was in the queue? And if so, where had he gone?
Just as I was about to approach one of the tills, I looked over my shoulder.
I could see him way off in the distance, right at the end of the aisle that runs away from the tills, standing behind the few sporadic shoppers I’d noticed earlier.
Blimey! What was he doing up there?
And then I thought: “Those sporadic shoppers standing in the aisle…” (my brain was whirring…) “Bloody hell! Is that the queue?”
As I said, I’d noticed a couple of people in the aisle and simply thought that they were perusing the shelves!
Oh no! They weren’t perusing; they were queuing! But they were so far apart that to the naked eye, they just seemed like random shoppers – and I had just been about to push in front of all of them! That would have been embarrassing and probably would have started something too!
I picked up my beer and wandered to the back of the four-man queue – about 30 metres away.
“They’re taking their social distancing seriously here!” I thought.
As I got there, the queue suddenly disappeared – typical!
Two more girls had arrived at the tills, so now there were four serving, one for each person in the queue in front of me. I walked the 30 metres back to where I had been standing a few seconds before and waited my turn. I then paid, and headed back to the van.
I put the beer in the back and set off home via the scenic route to avoid the roadblock. Fortunately, I knew the way: the Roman ruins at Milreu, Estoi, Pechao, Moncarapacho and back to Fuseta.
It was a lovely drive, along narrow empty roads, with blue skies above and the warm wind blowing through the open windows.
I’d done what I’d been asked. I’d also managed to get away from the house for a bit. I’d enjoyed the drive at the same time – but there’s always something at the back of my mind…
It would have been nicer to have done that drive with Sue.
One day, when this is all over maybe…. Hopefully…
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
