By MARGARET BROWN features@algarveresident.com
Margaret Brown is one of the Algarve Resident’s longest standing contributors and has lived in the Algarve for more than 20 years.
With a clean bill of health from his consultant and return to normal life, the Boss was looking forward to his first outing in the Laser dinghy after a two month lay-off.
Following weeks of clear skies and hot sunshine, Saturday dawned in autumnal mode. Grey clouds driven by a strong north-westerly, a falling barometer and at least 10 degrees cooler than the 34ºC registered last week, it seemed more a harbinger of winter than the back end of summer.
Loaded down with boat parts, wetsuit and a packed lunch, this forever young ancient mariner joined the crowd heading for Meia Praia and, as I write, is probably stationary outside a grid-locked Lagos.
Foul weather in Britain and many of the population suffering from an attack of S.A.D. (Season Affective Disorder) at an unseasonable time of year, there appears to have been a mass exodus and rush of last minute bookings to the fleshpots of Algarve and at last the tills are ringing like Christmas.
Spare a thought for the car hire firms which, having reduced their fleets by half as a result of the recession, are turning away clients while others with vehicles to spare are raising their prices and making a killing.
At the same time, our thoughts are with a 45ft Ketch, the crew of which is sailing her home to South Wales and a sheltered berth in Pembroke Haven. Rounding Cape St. Vincent they turned right with the intention of mooring off Cascais on the evening of the first day, but because of unfavourable winds and rough seas it took them until the following morning. After making running repairs and a good wash down for both boat and crew, they left early on Sunday 9th with three days to the next landfall at Bayona.
Ant brigade
Equally bothered by the weather, holidaymakers hoping for a peaceful morning on the beach were soon leaving in droves. A northerly wind gusting up to gale force was blasting tender slow roasting bodies with clouds of gritty dust from the dunes, and by lunch time the sand was almost deserted; just as painful and not only down on the coast, eyes were sore and lungs irritated by air laden with invisible particles.
A couple of nights of heavy rain would be most welcome, a view not held by the local vinedressers who have been tending their small vineyards all season. Bunches of black grapes are hanging heavy from the vines and if this heat continues, they should provide a sweet early harvest, the leaves already beginning to shrivel as the fruit ripens.
One of the less attractive aspects of this hot spell has been an invasion of our house by ants, a common enough problem but with a difference this August. The first visitors, no more than one or two millimetres long, swarmed into the bathroom through an overflow pipe, apparently seeking moisture. A couple of days later, the Boss uncovered a nest of much larger ants under the back door mat together with hundreds of eggs. Disposing of the small colony with ant killer, we hoped that was that but should have known better.
Two days later, after a happy evening out, on entering the kitchen we found some really butch looking foragers dashing about the floor in the vicinity of a square of carpet. Lifting it by one corner released an explosion of hyperactive shiny black ants that dispersed in every direction to reveal another pile of white eggs. Emergency measures consisted of spraying with insecticide and sweeping up piles of wriggling bodies together with their eggs. Without doubt, there will be other fertile Queens looking to leave the parent nest to start their own colony and I fear we have not seen the last of them.
Versatile plant
Recently, my morning walks have been enlivened by three dogs belonging to our Portuguese neighbours on the hill and perhaps because of the heat, the animals have become very aggressive.
They hide among the cistus bushes from which they launch their attack, waiting for us as we make our way up the steep unmade road. Millie would prefer to look the other way and slink past with her tail between her legs but Brownie, her friend from next door, chooses to wind them up until honour demands a full frontal attack.
One German Shepherd, a large nasty tempered hunting dog and a middle sized Heinz 57 carry a lot of clout, but if we were to turn tail we might never be able to take that route again. Following the local habit of throwing stones, I have not found a target yet, but happily the dogs get the message and back off a few feet with tails vertical and hackles bristling. It does not help that the owners are watching from behind their cabbage patch.
Back at the ranch, we have a Prickly Pear (Figos da Índia) which since 1986 has been spreading outward, upward and is now hung with healthy fruit that is almost ready for eating. It is a very versatile plant used for centuries wherever it grows as a source of human food, medicine, animal fodder and as a dye.
Wearing thick gloves, once the prickles have been removed, the flowers, young leaves and fruit may be cooked, eaten raw in salads, used as a dessert and also fermented into a liqueur. However, my Portuguese neighbour warned me to be careful with the seeds that are a cure for Prisão de Ventre (or constipation)!
