I don’t remember a week like it. It lasted a month but was gone in a flash. The emotional rollercoaster was so steep the cars barely stayed on the tracks.
A powerful storm brought thunder-flashes and torrential rain, battered our valley with hailstones and scared Simon the dog so much he bolted from just outside our front door and fled into the darkness on the worst of nights.
We imagined him drowned in a ditch or gored by a wild boar, we searched the land with flashlights, drove the muddy tracks, and barely slept as our little Los Angeles city-dog had to learn survival in the wild at the mature age of 12 years old as the storm raged on.
At first light, we drove the surrounding countryside shouting his name wondering why he hadn’t come home.
We picked through mudslides and dredged pools hoping not to find his body, we put those awful missing dog posters up around town and asked everyone we know to spread the word knowing more bad weather was coming, and the skies were darkening in other ways.
Our dam was leaking – in at least three places – the waterlogged clay wall slipping down the steep slope, and we started to think it might actually break and send millions of litres of water and mud sweeping down the valley.
After three months and two attempts to ship an Australian-made dam sealer from the UK, and hundreds of euros more spent importing it twice (thanks Brexit), we’d finally scattered the “Damit!” on the lake surface, but honestly didn’t hold out much hope.
Our road out of the valley was blocked by a slipped timber truck, then a vast cavern was carved out by the flood making it only just passable…and I had two Portuguese exams to get to and then get through.
The to-do list was speculative rather than realistic…although everything on it really needed to be done…
The month-long week all began with a Plasma Party.
“Container plan” was top of the list and that involved converting our rusted yellow shipping container into a beautiful (ok, slightly better), functioning new building.
The 12m long metal beast will be the water treatment plant, a winter-storage area for furniture, and potentially a place to put a couple of chest freezers…once the proper power network is done.
I’d bought two off-the-shelf PVC windows, to fit along with the €20 one bought at an auction, and neighbour Daniel had donated his old basement door.
We had great friends visiting who were happy to help, and many hands were making light work of scrubbing off rust and layering on paint, as our Swiss friend Niels, Prince of the Plasma Gun, stepped up with his 10,000C machine and started cutting some holes.
Two days later, the door and windows were in, the gaps were sealed and the job was all but done as the weather turned.
Simon the dog had just popped out for a quick pee when suddenly a huge clap of thunder struck and spooked him so much he raced off into the dark…in a second he was gone.
I returned from my second Portuguese exam of the week to join the search party but, after hours of looking, all we could do was come inside and hope he would be strong enough to make it through the night.
Simon’s a Hollywood dog – born in Los Angeles – he’s travelled the world with us for more than 12 years but has never spent a night outside on his own.
Simon’s been a part of our life every step of the way, from LA to Nairobi, to San Francisco (via Sweden) and here to Portugal where countryside living has grown on him.
Garfunkel is the guard dog, Simon’s the lap dog getting grumpier and more assertive as he ages gracefully.
I’ve been preparing for the day when he will no longer be with us…and I know just how hard that is going to be…but both of us felt this wasn’t his time just yet.
Thanks to our Neighbourhood WatchApp group, we discovered Simon 18 hours later at a nearby house where he’d fought the owners’ dogs for a space to sleep under their car.
The little dog was shaken, cut by brambles and a couple of bites and had developed a thousand yard stare, but he was alive and he was back home and we could breathe again.
Stupid dog. Stupid animals – why do we have animals? Because life’s so much better with them.
The storm passed, the dam stopped leaking – it seems the Damit! did what it said on the label – and the local farmer offered us rocks to fill the hole in the road.
I passed my A2 Portuguese exam, the container looks great and Simon’s back to his old self.
So here we sit in a moment of calm on our rollercoaster ride at the top of a hill with clear skies, waiting to see what’s coming next: how many dips and climbs we have to barrel through, how many hoops we need to loop until we get to stop for a bit.
Let’s see where the rollercoaster take us next…
Alastair Leithead is a former BBC foreign correspondent now living off the grid in rural Alentejo. He writes the blog “Off-grid and Ignorant in Portugal” and is on Insta @vale_das_estrelas. To apply to volunteer at Vale das Estrelas, click here.
