Author Archives: mallison77

Há muito tempo

Finally the sun is out! Around ten this morning it was a glorious 24º. The winter was long and wet and most of Portugal was depressed (so said the woman in the shoe shop).

In typical fashion I’ve spent my time here worrying about whether I need to do any official stuff to be here and whether it’ll have any consequences. I’ve resolutely done nothing to find out. Until this week. It turns out, for a stay of more than three months, I need to register at the Câmara within 30 days. Oops! I’m going to do this on Monday. I’m not really trying to fly below the radar and I’ll surely feel better being official. Plus, being registered means I get a NIF which eases all sorts of things. For example, I’ve spent an age looking for the best way to get some mobile data. Pay-as-you-go costs 40 euros/month for 2G allowance. Enough, just about, for month’s work. But, with a NIF, I can get unlimited data at 20Mbps for a 15 euro rolling monthly contract. That would let me live/work anywhere (assuming coverage!).

Having registered I wonder if they’ll start asking about employment and tax and all that? I did phone HMRC but they weren’t much help. I think I’m still resident in the UK so my pension, ISAs, bank accounts and all that are still ok. In any case I ought to just find out and put my mind at ease. I’ve done a google, of course, so I just need to follow up on what I’ve found.

For the last couple of weeks I’ve been having Portuguese lessons with Lara. I wanted to learn by osmosis but I wasn’t really immersed so I wasn’t learning much. The lessons have been great and pushed me forward. Just this morning I bought a 4G stick at Optimus. The whole interaction was in Portuguese and the assistant never once looked like switching to English. Small triumphs! Annoyingly I can’t be arsed to review my notes. Before the next lesson I’m going to try and pick off a few pages a night. I’d still love more opportunities to speak but not sure how to come by them. I’m unabashed at trying some small talk in shops and cafes now which helps a bit. But it’s not enough. I may just start writing these notes in two languages. Cristina has already said she’d happily correct my stuff.

Mum is coming to visit for a week on the 21st. My plan is to spend a few days in Porto then hire a campervan for a road-trip down to the Algarve where Mum catches her flight home. The dream is still to wander free in a van! Finally, I did something about it. There is a local firm here in Porto that does conversions of panel vans. I spoke with the boss, Luís, at length. To summarise he reckons on 11k euros for a nearly new van, 16k for their conversion and 3k for some tax. Road tax is 50€/year. Insurance around 300€/year. Fuel consumption around 8.5ltr/100km.

One of the objectives of hiring with Mum is too see whether I could really, really live and work out of a van for a time. I may extend the rental by a week, say, and see how I get on. If I love it, I’ll buy one. If I hate it then it’s plan B… The hire place also do conversion so I’ll speak to them and compare with Luís’s estimates.

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged and I cringe when I read back some of the old posts. It’s very tempting to delete some or mark them as private. Bah! Who cares? I think writing is a good exercise. Especially if I try and do it in two languages. Doesn’t matter too much if it’s mundane (I’m hardly unique in living abroad!).

After a week of more serious admin, buying some shorts has moved to the top of the list. My muscular thighs rub together and tend to wear through fabric rather quickly so the two pairs I arrived with are no more. My cleaner patched my favourite jeans before they suffered a similar fate! I still try to buy local when I can. My new trainers are Sanjo, a Portuguese Converse-a-like. A handful of shops, on Cedofeita at least, have Portuguese made things.

Long term I wondering about buying a place here as an investment. Needs a fair bit of thinking through. Given I’m generally quite useless (registered as self-employed two and a half years after the fact, failed to register in Portugal, tax returns overdue, etc) I’m not sure much will happen. But it’s on the ‘to do’ list (of which there are several – I should consolidate) and I am getting a tad better at the doing.

 

Southern Sun

What a difference a bit of latitude makes! I got up nice and early this morning feeling very smug. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky again. Having not been to the coast for ages I decided to take a walk.

Avenida da Boavista is one long straight road from the centre of the city out to the beaches. It starts about 200m from my flat. With my new winter cardi zipped up to the top I left the house. Once I emerged from the shadows I was too warm. I removed the cardi and enjoyed the heat of the low sun on my face and arms.

After an hour of walking I arrived at the Parque da Cidade.

The park was busy with walkers, runners and cyclists. I’ve run on and off over the years and never stuck to it. Despite that I found myself again thinking of getting some running shoes. A few circuits here seems like a great way to start the day.

Somehow in the summer I’d decided the park wasn’t very nice. Probably because I only saw the very end where it is sandy and a there is huge flyover with cars thundering overhead. In fact it is very lovely.

At the end of the park you arrive at the Edificio Transparente and the beach.

The Edificio Transparente is full of restaurants. Having walked more than four miles I figured lunch was deserved. As it was such a beautiful and warm day there were lots of people sat outside.

It was lovely to sit and bask! I had a delicious chicken burger followed by chocolate cake. I’m eating sensibly at the moment but allow myself a treat on weekends.

As I sat and watched the activity around me I felt a little alone! The group in front of me seemed to know almost everyone that passed by. It would have been nice to have had a chat. Nonetheless it was still thoroughly pleasant just to sit there and watch the impressive surfing that was going on. I might have to take my landlord up on the offer of hooking me up with his instructor friend.

Some cool dads were sat in front of me having some cheeky lagers while the kids were skateboarding.

I’m not entirely sure why I look so worried (and a little disturbed I look so porky having lost about 2kg in the last few weeks!).

Despite the look on my face I was enjoying myself!

Eventually I got restless and set off home. Not the way I’d come but down the coast instead. It’s a lovely walk along the blue flag beaches that ends with Praia dos Ingleses. There is an excellent bar here right on the beach. I was torn between having a drink or two or walking on. The exercise felt good so I decided to carry on but it was oh-so tempting.

After the beaches you reach the mouth of the Douro river. This is also lovely to walk along.

I see so many little cafes and restaurants I want to try out sometime. Yesterday I had a coffee in one. When I went in to pay I could smell garlic, see the fresh vegetables piled up, see the freshly caught fish being washed and hear the water bubbling in a large pot. I’m sure lunch would have been delicious.

After half an hour of the sun on my back I turned left and began the long, slow climb back up to my flat. I had a bit of a pace on and was sweating. Still in a t-shirt I think I got some funny looks from people wrapped up in their winter coats and scarves.

All told it was probably ten miles walking. Nothing like the intensity of a run or bike ride but I still felt great after it. In my endorphin high I was thinking of running, finding an outdoor ‘boot camp’ class and getting back to the gym……

Plus ça change

The weather has changed but it seems I have not.

Last Sunday was a glorious 32°. On Monday the temperature fell about ten degrees and the rain started. It hasn’t really stopped since! Still warm enough for some outdoor hacking but I’ve had to seek shelter.

Moving here was a quick and temporary solution because I’d not found somewhere else while living in the last flat. You’d think I’d not want to be in the same situation again…

I did try to find somewhere. I looked on all the recommended websites and made a short list. I made a few phone-calls and sent an email. Everyone keeps telling me it’s so easy to find somewhere! The problem is I left it a little late (yes, really!). Had a panic on Thursday night. Went to a meetup on Friday. Got serious on Saturday but estate agents are closed. Saturday was my notional moving out date. What was I thinking!? On Saturday night I got drunk and there seemed little point doing anything on Sunday.

It’s not all bad though. Through my hangover on Sunday I was thinking about the van plan. Buying one without having tried the idea out seems rash. I looked again at the rental websites but they are expensive. Perfectly fine for a week’s holiday between two or three people but prohibitively expensive for one person for an extended period. People must hire these things privately, I thought. My searching turned from flats to vans. I found a local one. No price given so I sent an enquiry. By widening my search to neighbouring regions I found another. At a good price too (comparatively. It’s still way more expensive than renting a flat for a month!). I sent another email and waited. My mind seemed set on the van plan now.

Just as I sent a message to my sis to say I was getting despondent as I’d not heard from anyone about anything an email arrived from the van owner! He needed proof of address and my vehicle as collateral. Entirely reasonable requests but problematic! I replied saying I could pay the sale value in escrow should I decide to bugger off and not return. Having got past the obstacles it looks like I’m going to rent this for a few weeks.

Isn’t she lovely!? It’s done about 300,000kms and only reaches 90km/h but the engine is indestructible according to the owner. I hope I’m not jinxing things as I’ve not signed on the dotted line yet.

The timing is good because Rich and Jake are coming over here cycle touring. Of course I ought to be on a bike as well but I’m so unfit the whole thing would not be enjoyable.

Part of what helped me decide is that the last two weeks have shown that I can work with the mobile internet. 3-4Mbps is absolutely fine. Portugal is reputed to have good mobile coverage so I’ll buy that 4G dongle I mentioned a while back and I might be enjoying 50Mbps at the beach!

Unfortunately the van is not available until 12 October. Where am I going to stay until then? Happily Sr Osório offered me another little studio on the same property for 250€/month. That’s just over 8€/day! Except it’s not. That rate is if I stay three months. We’ve come to a 300€ deal for the two weeks. Back home a place like this would easily be more than £100/night so I can’t complain. By time the end of the year comes around it’ll be certain that things would have been smoother and cheaper if I’d signed a 6 month contract in June. But that’s only looking at things monetarily (which I have a terrible habit of doing, after the fact).

Third time lucky? Now I’ve two weeks in which to find somewhere to live after I return the van. Googling “loft apartmento no Porto” turned up an amazing property which I’m going to follow up on tomorrow. Photos to follow if I get it. Don’t want to risk another jinx.

Odd one out

Around 4pm the man who delivers my bread in the morning came to summon me up to Sr. Osório’s house. Earlier I’d been catching some rays and swimming.

I got changed out of my swimming shorts and walked up the hill.

Jorge, S Osório’s son, got me a beer and we chatted for a bit. When I described my techno-nomadic status he said he was quite jealous and that I was too young to be roving free!

A large group of children was herded down to the pool and I followed. My inclination was to join the kids and have fun but, instead, I talked some economics, politics and Europe with the grown-ups.

As we arrived back up the hill the tables were being laid.

I’d never seen so much effort put into the dispaly of fruit before!

The next few hours were spent grazing and trying some very nice Vinho Verde. If I only knew more of the langauge I’d have felt like less of a spare part!

The occassion for the party was the joint celebration of the birthdays of cousins Sophia, turning 8, and Matilde, turning 6. Eventaully cake was brought out and ‘Happy Birthday’ (or the Portuguese equivalent) sung.

A piece of that chocolate cake went down very nicely!

The party started to wind down and tired children were packed into the backs of cars. I said my thanks and retired to minha casa.

It wasn’t just the kids that were tired. Whether it was the sun-bathing, food, alcohol or the combination I was wiped out. I flopped on to the bed.

At 9.20am I was once again on my way up the hill. I’d been invited for breakfast at the big house. As I left my place people were arriving. The preparations for another party were already beginning.

Last night’s party went on longer that I thought. Mrs Osório got to bed at 2am. Jorge, her son, had stayed over to get some sleep. He often works during the evening but doesn’t get much rest with Matilde and Mafalda around. Granny looked after the meninas while Dad grabbed some kip.

Stuffed full of bread, cheese and ham I waddled back down the hill.

At lunchtime I was seated at the head of the long table that had been set out by the pool for the day’s festivities. My heart sank a little when the food came out. Tripas! I can happily eat liver and kidney but other offal I’m not so keen on. I didn’t want to offend. After all it was very kind of them to invite me to lunch. Fortunately there was some meat so it at least looked like I’d eaten something. The odd looking bits remained on the plate. I just couldn’t bring them to my mouth. Two desserts came out. A mille feuille and a variation on creme caramel. Both were very nice. One of the grannies there managed three portions! All the while there was still no sign of Jorge. He as obviously taking full advantage of the chance for slumber.

I returned to my room for a while. No one spoke English (or so I thought!) so I felt like a spare part again.

Some hours later I was summoned out for soup. I could tell I was being talked about but had no idea what was being said. It turns out at least one of the family speaks English perfectly well! There seems to have been some confusion. People keep being told there is a German staying. I’ve no idea how this came about. I can also imagine that some people weren’t too interested in talking to a random tourist intruding on their family gathering. Fair enough I think. I’m pretty sure I heard something like “he’s had everything: soup, beer and dessert” being said. Oh!

After dinner I chatted with one of the younger member’s of the family and his wife. He asked me about William Wallace and told me of a good place nearby to go and see some very good Roman ruins. I asked that he thank his family for inviting me, feeding me and giving me alcohol. I hope I wasn’t too much of an intrusion.

Postcard Portugal

My departure from the flat I was in was a little hasty. In typical fashion I’d not done much about finding somewhere else. Not nothing but not much. In the end it was suggested it would be better if I moved out. Entirely reasonable! I was not supposed to be there once Ana came back.

The day before I’d seen a nice looking place by a river. It was more money than I was thinking of spending but overnight I decided to go with it anyway. I needed to, and wanted to, move out. And now I was being asked to do so.

In the afternoon it occurred to me that I hadn’t checked that this place had internet. Where doesn’t have internet these days? Oh. I left a message saying I would have to cancel. Finding somewhere for a night or two would be no problem so I wasn’t worried about getting to 5pm and not having a bed yet.

I received a message in reply to say that the owner of the river property was looking for a solution. By 5pm I’d know more. Around that time another message arrived to say a 50Mbps MiFi had been bought. The ‘internet is solved’!

Packing up didn’t take too long.

After doing the dishes and stripping the bedding I left. It was quite a relief actually. No point in dwelling on it but I realised I hadn’t really enjoyed living in that place very much.

The train took me about 30km out of Porto to a small station. All I had was the address. No map or directions. A teenager was loitering and I actually hesitated before speaking to him. Youth these days you know? However he was perfectly nice, polite and helpful. We sort of managed a conversation in Portuguese. He tried to describe the way but I failed to understand. A few minutes later his brother turned up and I was given a lift right to the gates of the property. Obrigado!

The lady of the house said ‘no speak English’. ‘Frances?’ I enquired. ‘Oui un peu’. She handed me over to her husband who showed me to my studio. He doesn’t speak much English either but we managed perfectly well in French.

It really is a terribly pretty spot. In the morning, before the sun hits the valley, it’s lovely and cool and a mist floats around.

My daily bread was delivered around 8.30am by the man who comes to clean the place, start the pool pump and set up the tables and sun loungers.

The MiFi was in the communal sitting room. I turned it on. After a few moments it got a signal. “2G”. Noooo! Nothing like good enough to work with. With resignation I figured I could get the train in to Porto and work in the Capitolio for the day. Not a major drama but not ideal. There was also the shadow of a thought that this isn’t very professional. However, wherever I end up connecting I think I do do an honest day’s work.

The lounge has thick stone walls. More with hope than belief I took the MiFi outside. “3G”. Wohoo! Speedtest.net said almost 3Mbits/sec. Hardly fantastic but good enough for work which is mostly shuffling (compressed) text around.

I set up my workstation and got started.

At 11am I met the owner to drive to the supermarket. The area around is all hills, vineyards and rustic villages. ‘Paradise’ Mr Osório said.

Even Paradise has a supermarket though! We asked the chap in Worten about the MiFi. We could get up to 21Mbps and he suggested waiting 24 hours to see if we get improved speeds. Hastily I grabbed some supplies and we drove back.

1pm and only an hour of work done. Not ideal but better to have food in the fridge than not.

After work I took a dip in the pool.

Then made some dinner.

I’m not yet bored of pasta, tomatoes and olive oil!

Quinta do Rio is a really nice place to be and I’m glad I randomly ended up here. It’s reminded me I have the freedom to move about and try new places as I wish. I can live in a tower block in any city. That’s no fun. Taking a morning dip in the river as the sun comes up…is (or might be, if I’m brave enough tomorrow!)

Transience

In the middle of an Iranian bazaar an Australian introduced me to CouchSurfing. I misheard and thought he said ‘kite surfing’. Given that the nearest sea was hundreds of miles away I wondered what on earth he was talking about. He then explained that he’d been traveling around and staying with locals on the way. With no money changing hands people offer to put up travelers for a day or two. Usually host and guest spend some time together with the host giving the guest a local’s eye view of the place. Sounded pretty cool I thought.

That was 2008. Finally in 2013 I had my first experience. Bored in Stranraer I persuaded mum to let me offer her house to travelers. Almost as soon as I signed up I heard from a French girl who was cycling from Paris to Marseille by way of Dublin. As she was getting the ferry she needed a couch in Stranraer the night before. I offered and she accepted!

Setting off for Cairnryan

Lucie was very nice. Quite quiet but an interesting character. Dusting off my French was fun.

Ana, my landlady, is an active CouchSurfing member. With her permission I set my (her!) couch to available. Oddly there are many more people seeking a place in Porto than Stranraer!

For the past two nights I’ve had the Bayer sisters staying over.

Coimbra bound

Both students, they are surfing their way through Portugal before the next semester starts.

A Portuguese friend of mine doesn’t like the transient nature of the CS interactions but I think I’d rather meet people than not. I had a nice time with the Bayers and some interesting conversations. If I’m ever in Berlin and need a couch I know who to call now. After talking to Sabeth I’ve firmed my resolve to learn Portuguese and end up in Brazil!

I still think it’s a pretty cool thing and it remains completely noncommercial.

Unfortunately you can’t keep the weirdos out. There is a reference system but there are still risks. Particularly for females. I’ve heard a few stories. However Julia said she’d not had a bad CS experience and I’m sure most people are ok. The weirdos are often easy to spot because they don’t bother to complete any profile information. They sign up with the bare minimum.

It’s a tricky area. Some people have complained of the corruption of CS saying it’s turned into a dating site. Do I think it could be fun if someone turned up that I really fancied? Of course. I’m sure such thoughts cross womens’ minds too.

The other problem, which is much less serious, is that site is really confusing. If I were a UX hacker I might offer to help out. It could be much cleaner and simpler.  A couple of times I thought I’d created an Ibiza itinerary but it turns out I hadn’t. Also the Porto homepage reports no outstanding couch requests which is simply not true!

Some weekend I have to find a place that the Bayer’s previous host took them too. A series of natural pools with clear water all linked by waterfalls. Somewhere in the mountains north of here.

 

Decisions, decisions

I can’t make them! So many plans, so little action.

For the last couple of weeks there has been the Ibiza plan. Go and live there for the end of the clubbing season. But I’ve not put much effort into finding a place. I could have just jumped on a train, Porto – Coimbra – Madrid – Valencia, then ferry and sorted out a bed and internet once there.

Now there is a cycling plan. Rich and Jake are coming over to Portugal in October for some cycle-touring. I’m horrendously unfit and don’t like cycling anyway. Right? Despite that I’m thinking I could fly to the UK, cycle down to Portsmouth, ferry to Bilbao and ride back to Porto. Then I’d be in shape to join the other two. All the while I’d need to work. Maybe ride for three hours in the morning. Do a day’s work then ride for another hour. How will I work? I’m assuming decent mobile internet coverage combined with a good solar charger to run my laptop.

Of course there is the campervan plan! Really not sure how to proceed on that one. If the past is anything to go by I’ll end up making a rash decision and buying the wrong thing. People actually buy these things so there must be a way through this problem!

Staying in Porto a while could be a plan too. There is no particular rush to go anywhere. Some sort of a life is developing. Slowly I’m learning the language and have now joined a weekly group. There is a three month course starting soon too. After Portuguese, Spanish is easy. That opens up the whole of Latin America for adventure.

The trance plan needs some work too. I love electronic music and trance in particular. I want to spend time in cool clubs and bars where I like the music. Porto seems to lack this scene. Hence thinking of Ibiza and wondering where else I might get this. Is it a strong enough reason to move on from Porto? Should I just park the idea for a number of months and see how this phase develops?

Before language practice yesterday I had a coffee in the Capitólio. António was telling me he is going to let his house for 500€/month. It has four bedrooms and a huge terrace. I’m paying that for one bedroom at the moment! That could be interesting. Friends and family could come and stay. CouchSurfers too. If I was ruthless and money oriented I could airbnb the spare rooms!

As ever there is the gym plan. I’ve been in and out of the gym since I was a teenager. It was all ineffective until 2010 when I trained with Chris in Bath. Pound (Sterling) per pound (of lean mass gain) it was a horrifically expensive endeavour (gym fees, £30/hour for Chris three times a week and a huge food shopping bill). But I put on 14kg-ish of mostly lean mass in two months. Annoyingly it didn’t get me a girl. Then I stopped, got fat and eventually trained with Chris again. Then I stopped…….and trained with Mark in Stranraer. Then I stopped! Now I’m out of shape and fat and thinking of having one more go. Jorge at Fitness Hut will do me 8 weeks membership for 67€.

Maybe it’s fine to do none of the above? I really don’t know!