Espera!

Well, that was an interesting moment. Not the whole day, you understand, just one moment that has made the last year worthwhile.

I’d spent the day watching rugby with friends. We’d had a few beers, both during the games and then between them. Between them we’d headed out for a drink, at Pescador, at Dois Ruis, at Shack 1. Yes, it had been a good day.

And then, at the end of the evening, after we’d had enough beers at Shack 1, the decision was made. It was time for everyone to go home.

And so, I went home, too.

When I arrived home, I found that on the TV, England were playing Argentina at rugby. Being a Welsh supporter (when it comes to rugby, anyway) I wasn’t really bothered.

It had been a great day, really enjoyable, but…

But now I was home and I was a tad hungry. My stomach was rumbling big time. So, what to do?

I’d just been away, back to the UK for a few days and the larder was empty. I know that we normally need to man up and accept a bit of hunger, but after a few beers, I decided that I needed something more substantial. And what was that something?

Well, earlier, Nigel had mentioned ‘Ponte Grande’. Apparently, Ali (the best maker of kebabs anywhere in the world) was back.

‘Mmmm…’ I thought, ‘shall I head up there for a ‘quinze’?’

A ‘quinze’ is a kebab on a plate, with chips and salad… bloody lovely if I do say so.

So, yes, I headed up to ‘Ponte Grande’.

I shook hands with Ali as I entered and ordered the ‘quinze’, which came with a beer. And since the place was so busy and time was moving on, and my food hadn’t arrived, I didn’t complain but simply ordered a second beer. Bloody lovely it was, too.

Then my food did arrive and I ate and enjoyed – after I’d requested the chilli mayo, obviously. Man, it was good.

When I’d finished, I went to pay. Ali was busy with a family, so I waited. Then, I felt a presence behind me. It was someone else trying to pay. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was trying to catch Ali’s attention by waving a ten euro note at him. Being of an English disposition, and believing that a queue means something, I stepped in front of him. In turn, he stepped to the side and tried to capture Ali’s attention once more.

At this point, my year of learning Portuguese came flooding back. There’s lots of things that I could have said, but I kept it minimal:

‘Espera!’ I said. Wait! ‘Sou o próximo!’ I am next!

Blimey, a bit stern, I know, but I had had a few beers.

And what I realised at that very moment was that the whole year of Portuguese classes has been worth it!

I looked him in the eye as I spoke and his mouth dropped open. I think that he thought I was a tourist and that he, as a Portuguese person, should be able to push his way in front of me.

I was having none of that, and enjoyed the moment as his hand holding the fluttering €10 note lost its enthusiasm and dropped down by his side. One word and he knew who was boss.

Ali turned to me after dealing with the family, told me what I owed and accepted the money that I offered.

He smiled, said: ‘boa noite’ and offered his hand.

I shook it, and wandered out of the front door and homeward.

It had been a lovely evening, with a few beers, great food and a realisation that I can now put someone in their place (in Portuguese) if I really need to.

Bliss…