It has been a long time since I have had the time or inclination to sit down and write.
My mother finally succumbed to the cancer she had been fighting for the last 2 years and began to decline rapidly in early December, numerous admissions to hospital and doctors visits culminated in her admission to Saint Gemmas Hospice, Leeds, where she died on the 7th of March this year.The huge sense of loss and grief were somewhat tempered by a feeling of relief that at last it was all over both for her and for the family who had spent four months awaiting the inevitable. The funeral service though heartbreaking was quite beautiful and it was enormously gratifying that about 150 people turned up to pay their respects and wish her a last farewell.
We had promised ourselves that when it was all over we would flee to Santa Luzia at the earliest opportunity and let the magic of our little Portuguese paradise ease all the stress, pain and tension but the formalities of probate etc. meant we were unable to escape until early April.
Thus we arrived with friends Barry and Netta on the 4th of April at a now completely no smoking Faro airport. I never really believed that the Portuguese would swallow this nanny state stuff and embrace the smoking ban but early indications are that they have, most bars, restaurants etc are now non smoking and people are begrudgingly complying, however that is what happened in Spain for a few months and now you can have a cigarette with your drink just about anywhere there and I strongly suspect the Portuguese will follow suit.
Arriving at the house in the early evening we quickly realised that the aftermath of my roof repairs in November was going to take a lot of erasing and a massive cleaning operation was launched there and then. This major operation was to continue on and off throughout the entire 9 days we stayed.
Now I have been promising myself for the last seven years that one day I would do some fishing from the pier and, during a visit to the local Aldi to stock up on cleaning materials, I took the opportunity to abrogate all responsibility and immerse myself in the special offers section, particularly the fishing tackle sets. We came away laden with bleach, brushes, scourers, sprays, powders and a 39 euro fishing tackle combo.
The weather on Friday and Saturday was excellent, clear skies, a hot sun and a cool refreshing breeze so on Sunday afternoon I ventured down to the quay and set up my gear.
Bliss....... the tide was running fast and heavy, the breeze was blowing gently and the sun was shining. Not for long.
When I started my quest for a seafood supper I was sat on the pier with my legs dangling over the side casting my line into the fast running tide some 3m below but within an hour the combination of rising tide and wind had me bathing my feet in the waves and sitting on my various bags boxes etc. to prevent them blowing into the briny. Being an intrepid Englishman I continued my struggle with the elements and finally as the tide reached its peak (almost at the top of my now beleaguered pier) I hooked into a fish. And what a fish......... my rod bent double and the spool of my reel screeched against the clutch as the monster of the deep realising he had swallowed something decidedly dodgy made a run for the ocean. The thrill of the contest was however quickly over as the beast contemptuously snapped my line and departed the arena.
If I were to make a guess I would suggest my intended but now departed supper was a fine sea bass. On this disappointing note and with the waves now actually beginning to break over the edge of the pier I finally realised I was bloody freezing cold so packed up my gear and returned dejectedly to the house with my never to be believed tale of "the one that got away".
The strong winds are often the portent of a storm in Portugal and sure enough the rain arrived around lunch time Monday and fell torrentialy until late Thursday afternoon which was bad news for the group of English tourists we met in the new Indian restaurant in Tavira on Thursday night. They arrived on Monday as the deluge began and were departing Friday morning just as the sun returned. Each time we visit now we are amazed at the number of Tourists in evidence at any time of the year.
We spent most of Tuesday in Faro at the Forum Algarve shopping centre and once again the special offers at Jumbo supermarket got the better of us and we returned home the proud owners of a 26" flatscreen LCD TV which I busied myself installing as the clean up operations continued unabated all around me.
During this stay we kind of did the holidaymaker thing and enjoyed meals in some of the more upmarket restaurants, Vincents.......rack of lamb, Canto Azul................duck breast with fruits, and Casa Do Abade.............fillet steak but we did not forget to visit our favourite local eateries Mourao..............Prato do dia only €7.5, Tridoce..................three course meal including wine and coffee for four €28.00, and Bica.....................authentic local cuisine.
We also spent the best part of a day attempting once again to get the local water company Tavira Verde to put the water bill in our name and thankfully (after 2 years, 3 disconnections and innumerable visits to their office) we succeeded. The big stumbling block was that you have to get the previous owner of the property to sign a form transferring the right to be the billpayer????? We simply fibbed and said they had emigrated to Brazil.
Anyway come Friday and the re-appearance of Mr. Sun I determined to relaunch my assault on the denizens of the deep and late afternoon saw me back at my hunting sight on the pier.
My octopus tentacle bait had dwelt in the fridge all week and was frankly pretty slimy and quite smelly and whilst the fish seemed to be biting well it quickly occured to me that they were spitting out my offerings in disgust as I simply could not react fast enough to hook into the blighters. After some time I took myself off to a local shop and purchased a small bag of frozen prawns. Re-tackling with my new bait and a growing confidence I once again entered the fray.
The bites came thick and fast, my quarry were certainly much happier with my new offerings but were damned quick to nick them off my hook and leave me wildly striking at nothing.
Then on one particularly vicious strike ( oh I was determined) I felt that familiar knock and jag of a fish firmly on the hook, this was not the monster who tormented me 5 days ago, the rod had a barely discernible curve and the clutch on my reel was unquestionably in command of the creature attached to my line. Never the less it was a fish and I excitedly reeled him in and pulled him up onto the pier. He turned out to be a maxarra, a type of small bream, and had a row of vicious looking spikes on both his dorsal and pectoral fins, not to mention two rows of razor sharp little teeth which made the unhooking process a little complex and slightly perilous. Having unhooked him and placed him in the carrier bag Ihad brought along to carry my haul off in Idecided that as my first catch in Portuguese waters he should have a name by which I could recall him when recounting the tale of his capture. BRIAN seemed to me an excellent name.
I fished on for a while in the company of a small Portuguese boy who insisted on chattering away despite my constant "Sou Ingles, Noa falar bem portugese". His father eventually called him and he trotted off with a cheery " Ate amanha aqui" , I had neither the heart nor the necessary portuguese words to tell him I was flying home to England tomorrow..........bet he was disappointed when he turned up.
Brian meanwhile was carried home in triumph to be displayed to all who would look.
I am told had I managed to land a few of his pals they make very good eating so he was consigned to my freezer where he awaits his companions.
Since returning home my exploits catching Brian have entered local legend (and Brian has grown considerably as things do in fishermen's stories) and I have already formulated a plan to capture the monster who evaded me on my first expedition.
I have however found that you should hold a license to fish in the sea in Portugal, this was apparently introduced in 2007 and is even harder to come by than the fish, so my first expedition on my return will be once more into the realms of Portuguese officialdom and bureaucracy.
I have added a fishing in portugal link on this page for anyone who needs to know the law.
Sunday, 20 April 2008
Life of Brian
Labels:
fishing
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