De Perros y Limones

Blue Mondays

Monday last was officially the most depressing day of the year – in western Europe anyway.  Christmas has been done, New Year has been done, Three Kings has  been done and everyone is back at work or school and feeling thoroughly fed up.  When I read about it, thought about it,  I agreed with it.  January is that one month that seems to go on forever and it’s a bit crap. 

What to do?  We need to work even if we don’t want to wake up in the cold dark, shower in the cold dark and drive in the cold dark.  It has to be done so it must be done.  God, I can’t wait for Spring.

It should be pretty spectacular here in Paco De Arcos, our tiny corner of Lisbon.  The local park is always kept very pristine and very pretty and you can see that the park keepers – of which there are many – have arranged for a lot of spring flowers to bloom in a few months time.

The park is, of course, used all the time by the various middle class residents of Paco De Arcos.  At the moment it is hosting a busy temporary covid testing tent as well as the normal Saturday organic fruit and vegetable stalls.  Before Christmas there was a lovely Christmas market full of total tat and every few weeks there is a flea market on a Sunday to give that feeling of community.

There is also an endless supply of walking dogs for Luna to bark at; a fully enclosed duck pond with openings for pigeons to join them and feel safe; a futsal pitch; a fully equipped playground and random fitness instructors yelling encouragement at their poor charges as they struggle to do their sit ups or lunges. 

Fuente Tojar

For Luna’s pleasure there is usually a young couple sat on a bench ‘canoodling’ or just holding hands and being together.  Luna, who has to have an evening walk each day to the beach and then home through the park, has a penchant for approaching attractive young ladies who are just sat minding their own business.  If there is a couple sat there, she always goes up to the lady and does her “I’m really cute and loveable and you need to stroke me and pay me attention” act. 

Which they all love, naturally.  Because everyone loves Luna.  The young man will smile and grin or laugh as his girl pets this intrusive creature that has no inhibitions as I squirm with embarrassment at being an old man encroaching upon the ruminations of young people, the squirm being worse when Luna approaches a lone young lady and does her cute thing. 

The most quietly laughing time is when Luna approaches a bench containing normally one but sometimes two young men who are smoking something ‘fragrant’.  Good lord, is it fragrant!  There is some powerful stuff going around this corner of Lisboa.  Luna doesn’t care; she just wants people to acknowledge her cuteness and all-round amazingness.  If the person is ripped to the tits on de-criminalised drugs then she just doesn’t care. The blokes love her being there, will probably have no memory of her but give me a look that says ‘hey man, thanks, your dog is really cool’. 

  • Zuheros

Such is evening and weekend life in the park in  Paco De Arcos.   

Not all of Paco De Arcos is middle class.  The farther out from the park and the station you go, the more social housing  there is.  Social housing here is, as in Spain, blocks of flats.  But not horrible ones.  Flats that are well maintained, mainly clean and well –lit and safe and with very few dodgy geezers hanging outside looking shifty.  Block living is what you do here. 

Near Sintra

In Spain and here, even if you have a ton of cash to spend on a place many will still buy an  apartment in a block.  It is the expected thing.  The rich and the poor Spanish and the Portuguese here like being in blocks of other people.   And you won’t find large groups of young men outside  looking iffy because they will all be around one of their mate’s places being fed and cooed over by the mum of the place.  How can you go around robbing old ladies at knifepoint when you know you can go around Diogo’s place where his mum makes the best fried bacalao and where you will be allowed to spend all night playing Playstation?   

Not that there would be much to gain from being a modern highwayman around here.  Here in Portugal there are things that we in the UK used to call Bobbies on the Beat.  Yes, there are police officers who walk around the area. 

Bizarre, eh?  They don’t catch people, they don’t shoot people (though they could), they don’t harass people (even smokers in the park) and they don’t stop people doing what they’re doing unless it harms others.  They’re just there.  They reassure people.  They do their thing as normal humans do like check out menus for restaurants, stroke the cute dog (I was mortified), play football with small lads in the playground and stand outside the local store talking  football.

Their crime solving percentages are probably terrible.  Their criminal arrested and crime ratio is undoubtedly awful.  But that isn’t their point.  They are here to get on the trains and walk into shops and to drink coffee in cafes to be a part of the local community and to make people feel just that bit safer so they can be happier.

How the Hell do you measure that?  In my mind it is the difference between knowing the cost of something and understanding the value of it.  In my experience, socialists do the latter.   Portugal is a socialist country.  I like it most of the time and hate it at those times when you have to deal with government bureaucracy which is even worse than Spain.  No, seriously.  Honestly.

We are bit more skint today after one of the most expensive dog walks ever.  Our friends Denise and Stuart were visiting Lisbon and parked their mobile home in the biggest campsite I have ever seen which is about ten minute’s drive from the centre of Lisbon.  It is an incredible place and so, after a lovely Saturday wandering around, we decided to take our dogs to them so we could meet their young pup Zoe and go walkies together.  What a wonderful idea!

What a bloody nightmare.  Zoe went a bit mental, running around a lot.  Luna went a bit mental barking at Zoe and then running around a lot.  Dora and Bindi were both a bit bewildered by it all but just followed us as we went round the thousand acre site.  It was going fine.  Then we let Dante off lead.  He was okay at first but as soon as Zoe went off on one of her mazy runs he lunged and took a chunk out of her.

  • Lisbon Central with beer museum and authentic-looking beer scientist

The poor thing.  Denise was really good about it as Zoe had done something similar a while back to another dog.  But Zoe is a puppy really.  Dante is supposed to be a mature dog.   Sonalee and I were dismayed.  Yet again Dante had lost his shit and done something stupid.  He isn’t going off lead again if there is even the merest hint of other dogs.  Zoe needed treatment immediately on a Sunday and the dreaded cone of shame this past week.  The poor thing.

I am not going to reveal just how much this has cost in vet fees but suffice to say it is infuriating.  And we know that if he had done this to a stranger’s dog they would not have been so forgiving as Denise and Stuart and that we might now not have him with us anymore. 

Paco De Arcos beach.

The only sliver of good from that day was courtesy of Luna who bolted over to the enclosure with chickens and one massive goose.  She began her annoying yapping only to be absolutely owned by a furious goose who scared the living daylights out of her when it spread its voluminous wings and spat at the irritating creature on the other side of the fence.  Luna legged it sharpish, squealing straight into the shower block and took five minutes to cautiously exit again. 

What to do?

Well, we are looking for jobs for September.  No luck yet despite a couple of interviews.  If we wanted to work in Asia or Africa we would be snapped up.  In Spain, however, there is fierce competition for any job and we know now that we really are going to have to fight hard to get anywhere.  It’s dispiriting not to even get an interview but it’s really depressing when you have two interviews for a school and then they don’t even bother emailing you to let you know either way.  Actually, it’s bloody rude.  Perhaps we dodged a bullet there if that is their way of treating adults. 

  • Paco De Arcos at night
  • Shabby but still full of life

I think it is fair to say that the last three academic years have been traumatic, hard work, intense and challenging.  And I think it would be fair to say that we would like to find somewhere where we could be happy to stay for a few years rather than constantly move around.  We shall see.  Lots of applications to do, lots of EduSpeak to write and lots of trying to sell ourselves.  Sonalee is obviously concerned at getting a job that matches her career aspirations whereas I am a whore – I will work anywhere and do any job that pays me a salary.  I’ll do it well, of course, but the only jobs I would not take on would be anything to do with music or art, mainly because I have all the talent of a teabag in either sphere. 

Ayubowen

Hasta Luego, inshallah

Tchao

Paul

PS: The haunting cover version. The original, still brilliant to listen to. RIP Steve Bronski, thanks for the beat.

Paul

139 responses to “Blue Mondays”

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