I celebrated another birthday in Portugal this week, which began in the early hours of the morning with a visit from the country’s GNR police force, and ended with the beautiful sunset beyond my Silver Coast hometown that you see herewith.
When you celebrate another trip around the sun here, I understand it’s bad luck for others to wish you well before the big day, but when it does come, you’ll most likely be treated to the Portuguese version of ‘Happy Birthday’ with great gusto, and wonderful lyrics:
Parabéns a você
Nesta data querida
Muitas felicidades
Muitos anos de vida
Hoje é dia de festa
Cantam as nossas almas
Para o menino/a [insert name here]
Uma salva de palmas
Hoje o/a [insert name here] faz anos
Porque Deus assim quis
O que nós desejamos
É que seja feliz
Tenha tudo de bom
Do que a Vida contém
Tenha muita saúde
E amigos também
My translation, and forgive me Portuguese friends, would be this:
Congratulations to you
On this special date
Best wishes
Many years of life
Today is party day
Our souls sing
For the boy/girl [insert name here]
A round of applause
[insert name here]’s birthday is today
Because God wanted it that way
What do we desire
Is that you be happy
Have all the best
Of what life contains
Have good health
And friends too
Now isn’t that lovely? And so much more joyous, thoughtful and affirming than English versions some of us might know, ranging from a mere repetition of “Happy Birthday”, over and over, to gifts of “squashed tomatoes and stew” and even looking like a monkey that (adding insult to injury) lives in a zoo.
Give me the Portuguese version any day, or at least any birthday, infused as it is with such love and goodness, even when recorded as a promotional answerphone message from a major brand, as was bestowed upon me, to my delight. So delighted in fact, I have downloaded the message and turned it into an MP3 that I can listen to again and again.
The nation’s joyful disposition around birthdays provided a splendid context therefore for a fine day, spent – again in Portuguese fashion – with close family, and with older children and more far-flung relatives making contact throughout the day.
A lemon cake crafted by Mrs M’s own fair hand, and naturally with lemons gifted us by neighbours from their own land, formed part of a breakfast featuring much fresh, sweet and juicy fruit, which balanced and calmed the bitterness and anxiety, respectively, of Portuguese and English football performances at Euro24, from the preceding days.
Incidentally, I watched Portugal’s noble but agonising final footy performance in São Martinho’s town centre, outside my favourite cocktail bar – Casa do Leme – who were offering a very reasonably priced, all-you-can-eat barbeque buffet, including a first drink. This proved a very pleasant environment for a seriously unpleasant experience (the national team exiting Euro24, not the sizzling, well-seasoned food and cool, crisp beer), in German, British and Irish company, alongside our hopeful hosts, who I never cease to be amazed by.
Here in Portugal, as I recall from a visit in 2006 when fans watched their team play in the World Cup, fans watching the big games in public spaces remain well-behaved, as well as deeply passionate, in victory and defeat, despite the free flow of beer and banter.
This was as true last week as it was nearly two decades ago, and it was me who snapped first, seeking the second half, subsequent extra time, and resulting penalty shoot-out at my local Welsh Bar, where the booze and France-bashing bants continued to flow. Alas, the French got the last word, in that cruellest of ways to decide who progresses to the next round, leaving a small but now bonded barful of blokes consoling each other as they vanished into the cool night air.
Well done to the lads on the pitch, and commiserations to all who suffered watching screens around the world, who were rooting for a Portuguese Euro victory, something I would have been glad to receive as a belated birthday gift, the occasion to which I shall now return.
A beefy stew brought a nostalgic British touch at lunchtime as the celebrations of my birth continued, albeit with local sweet potato (batata doce) mash, washed down with more ‘football juice’ – Sagres, in its ‘mini’ serving, as I prefer the cleaner taste of the Southerner’s choice over the Northerner’s, inappropriately-named Super Bock, given that ‘Bock’ would be an adequate name for that adequate beer. (You know where I am every weekday morning should you wish to take issue with me on this matter, which I say with a mixture of snobbery and trepidation).
As I put digital pen to virtual paper here, I recall a significant Portuguese historical event that has just been brought to my attention, notably that of the departure of Vasco da Gama’s on July 8, 1497, who was setting out on his first significant voyage. Da Gama led a fleet of four ships with a crew of 170 men from Lisbon, around Africa and on to India, a distance greater than the length of the equator, according to Wikipedia, with fellow navigators Pero de Alenquer, Pedro Escobar, João de Coimbra and Afonso Gonçalves.
Only 55 sailors returned on just two of the ships, having sailed for more than three months more than 10,000 kilometres of open ocean, by far the longest journey without landfall at the time. On this great, beloved and revered Portuguese adventure, Vasco and his men discovered for themselves, country and king, Mozambique, Mombasa, Malindi and finally Calicut, India.
I mention these salty souls with great respect and admiration, who give my arduous birthday evening ascent to the lighthouse you see pictured a sobering sense of scale. As challenging as it was to the family, including this ageing father and energetic five-year-old, our efforts paled into insignificance next to Portugal’s legendary navigators, whose fleet we could have easily imagined magnificent in the endless waters below us, centuries ago.
Furthermore, had it not been for that great Vascoan voyage, would we have even been able to savour exotic spices and flavours at the Royal Indian Restaurant, the climax of my birthday celebrations, located at the foot of the stone steps we climbed, in São Martinho’s Quay? Their discovery of India makes ours look a little too comfortable and pedestrian.
What a day, what a birthday. Thank you, ‘present day’ Portugal. Thank you too for your fascinating past. And here’s to thanks to come, with each additional annual turning of the earth for me, hopefully here in your ‘abraço’.
PS Grateful thanks to the police too, who (in case you were still wondering) visited my house on my birthday, not to issue their best wishes, but to track down other revellers in my neighbourhood, who were partying without me, perhaps a little too enthusiastically!
By Carl Munson
Carl Munson is host of the Good Morning Portugal! show every weekday on YouTube and creator of www.learnaboutportugal.com, where you can learn something new about Portugal every day!
