I needed to go and see Vitor.
I needed to get to the bottom of how much money I would have to spend to get the house finished – especially now that all hopes of any income this year seem to be fast disappearing out of the window… bollocks…
I also knew that Vitor wanted me to get some door frames, so I arranged to go and see him after I’d helped Neil.
Once I’d dropped Neil back at home with his new TV and his old bike, I headed back to Olhao once more.
At the house, Vitor and I bumped elbows, and then Vitor No 2 appeared, and I bumped elbows with him too.
Vitor No 1 was like a kid in a sweet shop:
“Look what we done!”
He took me out to the kitchen with its new roof. “Fantastic!” I thought, “Things are really moving ahead now.” Although I still don’t know what it’s all going to cost, obviously…
He showed me everything else he’d done and I asked him about the door frames.
“Yes, we need door frames.”
Vitor went into a long explanation about what we needed and why – I didn’t understand a word of it.
He then told me: “I don’t need to come with you. You go.”
“Mmmm…. This should be interesting,” I thought.
“Ok, Vitor, I’ll go and talk to the man at Leroy Merlin and send you photographs of what I am going to buy to make sure you’re happy.”
“OK, David!”
“And we talk about the money when I come back?”
“Yes!”
So that was the plan.
I jumped in my van and headed off to Leroy Merlin.
It was a lovely day. I had both windows open, and a warm breeze was buffeting me, but in a nice way. I had Green Day on at full volume – nice!
As I was driving though, I was wondering: would Leroy Merlin be open? If it was, how long would I have to wait to get in? Would I have to queue?
I shouldn’t have worried.
Leroy Merlin has an underground car park. I pulled in and struggled to find a space: it was so bloody full!
I eventually found one, right over on the far side of the car park, leaving me with a fair walk back to the entrance.
As I approached the entrance, was there a queue?
Nope! Nothing at all, just a couple of people leaving the building, pushing a trolley loaded high with wood and pots of paints.
But as I went inside, I saw that the place was heaving! Just as busy as always! And there was a queue here alright – at the tills! It was huge!
It looks like DIY is just as popular in Portugal as it is in the UK on a Bank Holiday weekend.
I pushed my way through the masses (it wasn’t really that bad!) to the area that sells doors and joined the queue there – well, the one other bloke who was waiting to be served.
He just had a quick question, so it was soon my turn.
I explained to the guy serving (the one with the big plastic visor on his head) that I didn’t speak Portuguese:
“English is good,” he said
Thank God for that!
I told him what I wanted and he took me to where different-sized lengths of door frame were situated. He explained how they worked and told me that he was certain this was what I was after.
I thanked him, took some photographs of what he’d shown me and sent them to Vitor.
Vitor was straight on the phone!
He started to tell me this wasn’t what he wanted. Here we go, I thought.
I think he was talking about getting a special door frame set – at €200 apiece. Bloody €50 more than the door itself! I wasn’t particularly happy at that thought! Anyway…
I think that Vitor realised that I really had no idea what he was talking about:
“Let me talk to the man!” he said.
“That would be good Vitor, but he’s serving someone else now. I’ll call you back when I can speak to him.”
“OK, I wait David!”
So I went and joined the queue again. This time there were three people waiting – great…
The first two were served quickly, but the third? Blimey! He was asking questions about every door they had, measuring them, feeling them… it was painful…
Twenty minutes later it was my turn.
I asked the guy serving if he would be happy to speak to Vitor. He said yes, so I dialled Vitor:
Vitor answered and said: “I am going to lunch now.”
In the other ear, the serving guy was saying: “Can you give me the number? I will use my phone,” obviously concerned about the fact I may have the virus.
“Vitor! Wait! I have the man here now. He will call you!”
“I’m going to lunch!”
“Vitor! Wait two minutes please!”
I hung up and hoped he wouldn’t go to lunch in the meantime!
I produced Vitor’s number on my phone and showed it to the man.
He tried once, and messed it up… oh no… I was sure Vitor would go… especially if he hadn’t understood me…
The man tried again…
I waited with bated breath…
“Ola, Vitor!”
They were talking! Great!
The man from Leroy Merlin spoke for about ten seconds, and then didn’t get another word in edgeways for about 5 minutes…
I love Vitor, but he can’t half talk! And talk he did!
Eventually, the man from Leroy Merlin said:
“Obrigado, Vitor – Tchau!” and ended the call.
I smiled at him and said: “Vitor likes to talk!”
He laughed: “Yes he does – he says that he will come tomorrow and buy what he needs!”
Mmmm…. That did make me wonder what I was doing here in the first place, on my own at least, but that’s life.
I thanked the man for all his help and wandered off back to the car.
As I was leaving the store, my phone went. It was Neil.
“Hi mate, I can’t get NOS to work (the TV service supplier). What sort of cable do you have running from the TV box to the TV?”
“Just HDMI.”
“Not Ethernet?”
“Why would you need Ethernet? Just the HDMI cable and wifi should do it.”
“Well, there’s nothing happening.”
“Is the blue light solid?”
“Yes.”
“Mmmm… it has a signal then. I’ll pop over later and have a look.”
I was in IT for 30 years, and hate technology, but as soon as you mention what you used to do for a living, people think you can do anything to do with TVs and computers and phones – not Neil in particular, but most people.
It makes me laugh – the fact that I was mainly involved in Project Management, and (in the latter stages of my IT career) Data Analysis doesn’t matter. I was in IT – I can do technical stuff apparently.
Oh well, if I can help…
“Where are you now?” Neil asked.
“Leroys – looking at door frames.”
“Cool, any chance of picking up some sharp sand?”
I have no idea what sharp sand is. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but when it comes to DIY, I know nothing!
“Of course! When I get to it, I’ll give you a call to make sure I’m getting the right stuff.”
One thing IT did teach me – always cover your arse!
I went back down to the car park, got in my van and drove round to the area that holds all the construction stuff.
Here, you simply drive through and pick up what you need, get to the kiosk where they scan what you’ve picked up, then you pay for it and leave.
It sounds simple in theory, but there’s one major flaw – there’s only enough room for one car to drive through the area. As soon as a car stops for the driver to pick up materials, or even worse, look for a member of staff to help with their requirement, all you can do is sit and wait.
About 10 minutes later, having had to wait behind a big blue 4×4 whilst its owner decided what he wanted, I reached the area with the sand. Was it sharp sand? I had no idea.
I turned my engine off, got out of the car and looked for a member of staff. I was now one of those people I hated – I was blocking the way for everyone else…
I found someone, mentioned that I didn’t speak Portuguese, and again I was told that English would be fine.
“I’m after some sharp sand please.”
“OK, this way.”
He took me to the cement section.
“This is good,” he said, slapping a big bag of something. It didn’t look like sand.
“What is it?”
“Sand and cement. Add water, ready to use.”
“I just want sharp sand…” I said with no confidence at all.
He looked at me quizzically: “Just sand?”
“Just sharp sand…”
“OK…”
We walked over to what turned out to be the sand section: “This is good,” he said, slapping a bag of what definitely looked like sand.
“Thanks for your help!” I said.
“No problem!” he said, and went on his merry way.
I was meant to take a photo at this point and send it to Neil, but I was aware of a queue of traffic starting to form.
I decided to risk it (ie that I was getting the right sand) and carried a couple of bags back to the van, ignoring the 5 vehicles queued up behind me. I threw the sand in the back and headed off to the kiosk to pay.
25 minutes later, I was back in Olhao and talking to Vitor.
The first thing he said was: “Ah, David! We don’t need door frames. I just use cement and gypsum.”
Eh? He could have told me this before! Then Vitor No 2 arrives, and says something to Vitor. I have no idea what language they’re speaking – Russian? Ukrainian? Moldovan? Who knows? But after a couple of minutes, Vitor No 1 turned to me and said: “Vitor knows a better way!”
To be honest? I don’t really care what the solution is – I just want a solution. The two of them seemed to have hit on a plan, so I was happy. I trust them. Everything they’ve done so far is exemplary.
So then we began to discuss money.
I’ve used this simile before, but it’s so apt in this instance. Trying to pin down a price with Vitor really is like ‘herding cats.’ It’s bloody impossible.
I asked Vitor what he’d spent to date.
Fair play to him, he’d listed it all on a bit of paper, but trying to understand what related to what was not easy. And did it include all the work that he’s done to date as well as the materials? Who knows?
I asked him: “If we stop now, will I owe you anything?”
Vitor started telling me about what still needed to be done…
I wasn’t sure if this was a language problem or a ruse to ignore my questions about money.
I had no chance.
Every time I questioned Vitor on something, he went into a ten-minute monologue about what he’d done, how he’d done it and what still needed to be done.
I love him, but I really needed an answer.
Eventually, I pinned him down to a list of what he’d spent and a rough idea of what still needed to be spent – I think.
One area that we couldn’t pin down was the dry-walling. Vitor told me that he would work out the area we needed to cover and would give me a price on Monday or Tuesday.
I wrote down everything that I’d gleaned, and said that I would pull together a schedule of costs to see where I stood.
‘This could be quite a depressing process…’ I thought to myself, but at least I’d know where I stood.
We all bumped elbows and I headed back to Fuseta.
Half-way there, I get a phone call, so I pull over. It’s Vitor.
“David! David! You forget paper!”
Bollocks! After all that, I’d left my notes on all the costs back in Olhao. I really couldn’t face going back, so I told him: “I will come back this weekend Vitor. I’ll see you then!”
“OK David. Tchau!”
And so I carried on back to Fuseta.
Once I got there, I parked up, got out, grabbed the sand and knocked on Neil’s door. He answered almost before I’d finished knocking.
“Thanks mate,” he said as I handed him the sand. “How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I replied. It was only about €3 and I’ve generally found that what goes around comes around…
“How’s the TV?”
“I can get Netflix, but not NOS.”
“Can I have a look?”
I went inside. The boxes he had were different to mine – the router and the TV box – but the principle was the same. All lights were blue, and the cables all looked good. So I used all my IT knowledge and pulled the power cable out of the back of the TV box, and put it back in again.
A few seconds later, the NOS signal was showing on the TV.
“What did you do?”
“Rebooted it.”
“I did that! Several times!”
Ah yes, but 30 years in IT makes a big difference I tend to find… It’s the old adage: you’ve either got it or you haven’t… So all was good.
“Fancy a quick beer?” he said.
“Why not…?”
Another successful day – I think…
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
