Paradise Lost?

I came to Portugal on a whim. Yes, I’ll admit it. I didn’t think long and hard about it. Someone told me about the opportunity pre-Brexit, and since I’d always enjoyed my time in Portugal, I went for it.

And do I regret it? Not a jot. I bloody love it here. I love my life, I love Fuzeta, I love the people I’ve met here.

Yes, I’ve met some delightful people, both local and foreign.

I’ll be honest, I didn’t actually come here to meet people. I think that subconsciously, I came here to get away, to be able to breathe, to feel a sense of freedom once more. But as a bonus, as I’ve said, I’ve since met some delightful people.

Without exception, the people I’ve stumbled across have become friends: the English (obviously), the Dutch (there’s loads of them), the Scandinavians (there’s quite a few of these, too), the Americans, the pseudo-Canadians (you know who you are, he says, with a smile on his face) and, of course, the Portuguese.

The Portuguese are lovely people. Even though I’ve been unable to talk properly to many of them due to my pathetic attempts at learning their language (although I am trying, honest), locals wave to me, say ‘bom dia’ as I stroll the streets, laugh at me (or, hopefully, with me!) and make swimming actions and shake their heads in wonder as I head off for a sea swim in mid-winter.

Strangely, I haven’t come across many Germans or French, but they’re here, although they tend to keep to themselves.

Despite everything I’ve said, Fuzeta remains a Portuguese village. The majority of inhabitants are locals that have lived here, probably for generations, and long may it continue.

But sadly, I somehow doubt it will.

More and more foreigners are now arriving: buying property (or surveying the area before buying), visiting friends, touring…

In terms of property, locals now can’t get a look in. Prices are skyrocketing.

And the problem (as I see it) is that not all of these foreigners seem to understand that we are guests here, and as such should try and melt into the background, become part of the scenery, appreciate local customs and the genuine affability of the locals.

Slowly, things are changing. At least, I think so. I’ve noticed a different type of person arriving in Fuzeta. I’ve noticed that some people coming here believe that their way is the right way, and all others should fall before them – and I don’t like it.

Today, I was in the small supermarket up by the square. Here, you can buy most things that you need: food, hygiene products, cleaning products. Also, the staff are so friendly, they really are. Even more importantly, the produce is seasonal and they bake bread on-site, fresh daily. This is the supermarket I frequent most often.

Today, as I entered, I headed for the aisle that holds household cleaning products. I was after some white vinegar – yes, I do clean the house sometimes – and had to get past the fruit and veg section to find it. In my way was a lady, presumably a visitor to Fuzeta.

In here, the aisles are very narrow, and she stood there, waving something at an older lady a few feet in front of her – I think it was an avocado:

‘Do we need this?’

‘No, I don’t like the look of it. Put it back.’

Since they spoke English, I then asked her:

‘Can I get by please?’

Was she deaf or did she simply ignore me?

She continued:

‘Are you sure? I think we need it.’

I tried again, a bit louder:

‘Excuse me, please!’

She turned and looked at me as though I was something that was stuck on the bottom of her shoe. She looked me up and down, still holding the avocado up in the air. She then moved slightly, to just about give me enough room to get past, and harrumphed as I did so. Weird… no local Portuguese lady would ever have behaved like that.

I made it to the household cleaning products aisle, and realised that this lady wasn’t on her own. There were four of them, shouting to each other about what they were after:

‘Grab some peanut butter!’ one lady called.

‘I can’t find any!’ came the response.

‘There must be some!’

At this point, I have to ask:

‘Why?’

Peanut butter is not exactly a staple here in Portugal. For example, I love bourbon biscuits, but I don’t expect to find them in a small supermarket here in Portugal. These people have no understanding of living or even being in a foreign environment. Then I heard more:

‘We need some ham!’

‘Find some crackers!’

‘I can’t find any crackers!’

Yes, food in shops here in Portugal isn’t always what you might find back in your native country. You can probably find it somewhere, but not in a small ‘supermercado’ here in Portugal.

Next, I heard one of the ladies banging on the counter, the cold meats and cheese counter.

Quite often, when you go to this supermarket, ladies are serving on the till or maybe stacking shelves. There isn’t always a lady behind the meats and cheese counter. So, the locals simply wait until there is.

But these people? No:

‘Is there a bell? Why isn’t there a bell?!’

Mmmm… demanding immediate service isn’t a good way to go here in Portugal.

Then I heard it. She was banging on the counter:

‘Charcuterie! Charcuterie!’

Bloody hell… these people need to leave Fuzeta right now! If I’d have been a staff member, I would have (quite rightly) ignored the rudeness of this customer and stayed away, but the staff are Portuguese, and as I’ve said already, people here in Portugal are good people. One of the ladies went to help.

Then I heard it… the slow and loud…

‘WHAT – CHEESE – GOES – WITH – CRACKERS?’

Bloody hell… do they sell crackers here? Do the local staff know what a cracker is? Do they even speak English?!

Even with my minimal Portuguese, I know that I should at least make the effort to ask in their native language. That is the first thing I made sure that I was able to do when I first came here. And if I couldn’t ask for it, I wouldn’t expect to be able to have it, wouldn’t expect to be able to ask for it in English.

Bloody hell, I really hope that this isn’t a sign of things to come. I love my little bit of paradise. I really don’t want it to become ‘Paradise Lost’.