Having made it through the wildfire, I woke up feeling surprisingly optimistic. In the quiet of the night, I had decided to press on with my new life.
What is it about us that allows us to make sense of traumatic events and move forward? I wonder if it’s nature, the human spirit of survival, or nurture, our life experiences that make us resilient. Have you ever experienced traumatic events? I’m sure you have, and if you have, what or who do you think enabled you to overcome those experiences, pick yourself up, and get on with your life?
I needed a plan, so I sat down and wrote a detailed to-do list, prioritising the top three activities: securing the water supply to the farmhouse, arranging the start of the renovations, and getting my Nissan Navara (truck from hell) back from Lisboa to Monchique.
First, I focused on securing the water supply. During the intense heat of the wildfire, all the plastic tubes on the farmland had melted, so I went to Monchique to buy replacements. When I returned, my Dutch neighbour Wim was on hand to offer/dictate his advice (you know the type). I think being direct is a common Dutch trait, and Wim had it down to a fine art. Wim and his wife Betty were my closest neighbours and would become my dearest friends.
Wim had studied biology, zoology, and botany at universities in the Netherlands before earning his Ph.D. He had also worked at the University of Lisboa. Essentially, Wim knew everything that I needed to know about living on a mountain but didn’t. To me, he resembled the character ‘Captain Mainwaring’ from the BBC TV series ‘Dad’s Army’, while I, unfortunately, seemed to embody the role of ‘Pike’.
Back to the water challenge, Wim started by asking “You do know how a ‘Mina’ works?” I was tempted to reply, “Yes, of course, I do, Wim”. However, the truth was, I had no idea what a ‘Mina’ even was. So, Wim will now explain.
A Mina is a natural water source found within a mountain. These ancient water mines were crucial for the people who farmed the land. The mines were created by hand-digging horizontal tunnels into mountain rock. Each Mina could take years to complete. Once finished, they allowed water to flow into underground canals.
Wim stood on higher ground while I stood at the entrance of the Mina. He began by saying, “You need to go inside.” Reluctantly, I entered the narrow, pitch-black water mine. At that moment, a frog jumped from the water and landed on my face. I won’t repeat my expletives here! I then placed the tube just below the water’s surface and quickly exited.
Wim then instructed me, “Go to the end of the tube and suck.” I followed his instructions but not a single drop of water came out. As I returned inside the Mina, I suddenly felt something slither against my leg. Was it a water snake? Panic set in, and in my haste to escape, I hit my head on the stone ceiling while screaming. Wim looked at me blankly and said, “Probably best to try again tomorrow.” He said nothing more, but I could tell what he was thinking: “You stupid boy!”
I try to never give up, so I repeated the process alone. This time, I wedged the underground tube between two large stones and then repeated the ‘sucking’ process with vigour. As I put my ear to the tube, I heard an echoing sound, and then water suddenly erupted from the tube. I quickly connected the tube to the farmhouse supply. It felt like a miracle.
Next, it was time to start the renovations, and the importance of the building work began in earnest. I had been recommended a builder ‘extraordinaire’ who could do everything, construction-wise. He was hired! I nicknamed him ‘Patrick big legs’ because of his muscular legs and his habit of wearing skimpy shorts, regardless of the weather; sun, rain, or winter frost (you know the type).
As Patrick began the renovations, I received a call from the garage in Lisboa informing me that the Nissan Navara had been repaired (I use the term ‘repaired’ loosely) and was ready for collection. I headed north again and, thankfully this time, I was able to return to the farmhouse the same day, courtesy of the Nissan Navara.
The next morning, I woke up to find that Patrick had made great progress on the renovations, with rubble piled high at the bottom of the track. Eager to put the truck to use, I loaded it with debris and attempted to drive up the steep track. However, the truck stalled under the heavy load. At that moment, I decided it was time to use the four-wheel drive.
Not having ever used a four-wheel drive vehicle, I looked down and saw two sticks that looked strangely similar. So, I moved the sticks into place, forward gear, and then into four-wheel drive. But what I’d actually done was to move the sticks into reverse gear and two-wheel drive! The truck then bolted backward. Having realised my error, I threw the brakes on!
My senses were suspended as I realised the vehicle was teetering on the edge of a steep hilltop drop, facing a potential disaster. As the truck swayed back and forth, sensing danger, Beagle Ben leaped out of the passenger side window to safety. I, somehow, also had to reach the other side of the vehicle, so I slowly crawled across the centre console onto the passenger seat. With careful precision, I opened the passenger side door, leaped onto the ground below, and shouted “Help!”
Hearing the commotion, Wim appeared and leered down at me, sprawled on the track. Having seen that I had reached safety, he turned away and headed back towards his house without saying a word, but I could tell what he was thinking: “You stupid boy!”
By Derek Hughes OBE
|| features@portugalresident.com
Derek is a former UK Senior Civil Servant. The late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II awarded him an OBE for Customer Service and Inclusion. The latter was for championing disability equality. He now lives in Monchique, with his partner Marcelino, and teaches at Aljezur International School.
