Silver Coast expats trying to keep up appearances…

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Loving the Silver Coast, leaving the Silver Coast.

If only life was always like it was in the first 2 years after leaving the UK. No worries and plenty of cash. It was never going to stay that way, but even during the last couple of years when things got really tough, it still remained possible to live on a significantly smaller amount of money than the UK.

Having taken opportunities to work for peanuts doing many menial tasks and work harder than I ever had in my life for a pittance, we managed to survive and while not exactly prospering, we got on with doing what we could within our means.

Then came the really tough year…2011. Shan’t be sorry to see the end of that little bugger!

Karen of course, had her back injury, I had the stress of seeing some good work being offered but never materialising, then there were Karens family berievements that shook her world and then the operation to remove part of a herniated disc.

The long separation of myself and Karen lasted nearly nine months and meant that I had to take on all the villa cleaning, gardening and laundry by myself. I had to keep our own house in good order too because of B&B guests arriving and my own pride. I had to try and market the properties for sale and so created a website to do just that Silver Coast Property, and then attempt to get jobs completed in the house next door because it is almost done but not quite.

It seemed that 2011 would be a trying year, but looking back it was also a successful year. Karen and I are together again, my web design and search engine marketing has work has been better than I expected and we managed to sell the caravan.

More tears at that. The caravan that was our room with a thousand views. Gone now…gone for ever.

And now we need to overcome the negative attitudes that prevail due to the economy, the austerity measures which will hit us all, and the falling real estate prices. Wish us luck if you can…we will need it.

 

Sailing a catamaran on the Lagoon.

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Yesterday was a genuinely new experience for me. My friend JD took me out on a catamaran on the lagoon at Foz Do Arelho. We started at the sailing school on the banks of the lagoon about 3km inland from the ocean, and right from the start JD was really good at putting my rookie mind to rest and explaining what would happen.

We arrived after midday and found the conditions to be fairly calm and sunny but the wind was coming and going and changing direction all the time. I did not really understand the consequences of that until we got out onto the water and headed off towards the far side.

The school itself was a friendly place with many different types of craft to go out in. A first timer like me would normally pay for a guy to accompany me and teach me what needed to be done in every circumstance, but JD was an experienced sailor and so it was just the two of us with me feeling slightly nervous. I need not have been.
He went through all the things once more as we took off our shoes and socks and pushed the catamaran out into the deeper water that would start our journey. He showed me the ropes.
‘There they are’ he said.
He stifled a chuckle and carried on explaining what each rope did, and how I would need to take care when we swapped sides to turn the boat in case my head got struck by a billowing sail.

So we sat on the canvas deck checking all was well but the left hand rudder was being a right PITA and kept popping out so the plain sailing became slightly more spicy.
Eventually with the sails tightened and the wind puffing slightly harder, we took off.
Of course that is not strictly true, we carried on forwards on the water, gently at first and then as a sudden gust caught our sails we really sped across the lagoon. I was encouraged to hold onto the plastic handle and put my feet through a webbing strap so that we could lean backwards out of the craft and use our weight to counter the push of the wind and make us travel faster.
JD was insistent that it was not anywhere near as fast as the vessel could go, but I was quite happy to absorb the sensation of speed we attained as the spray from the tiny waves washed over us. It stopped again just as quickly and we slowed to a crawl, but then we had to leap across to the other side and turn before we got tangled up in the shellfish pots of the fishermen that were scattered all over the water in front of us.
We had to move quite fast to the other side of the boat because if the wind took the sails before we had moved our weight than there was a possibility of capsizing.
A couple of times we made good speed and then JD asked me if I wanted to take the rudder.
‘Do you want to take the rudder?’
‘No thanks’ I said. ‘I am quite happy sitting here letting you do all the work.’
He said, ‘but you only really get a feel for what is happening when you sit here where I am and you can feel everything that happens.’
I was unable to feel comfortable enough to do that.
Looking back now, it seems very silly and I hope there will be a next time and that the wind will be a little kinder.
As we drifted slowly back to the sailing school, I reflected on the expertise with which JD handled both the craft and my obvious nervousness and reluctance to take over at the rudder. He was a gentleman and I look forward to another outing some time.

So thanks JD, I enjoyed my first session and it so different to my normal day that it will stay with me for a long time.
Cheers.