For a short period, I am now living in the British enclave of Burgau on the south coast, where I'm allowed to look after Lars' apartment whilst he's in the Netherlands for some days. It takes me two attempts and nights, respectively, to find the hidden keys but then I'm in. Washing machine, shower, internet, and infinitely available electricity take me some time to adjust to. On my first night I feel a bit of both lost and claustrophobic between the walls of this spacious two story flat. So I decide to pay the bar below a visit for a beer and to mingle with the locals. I am the only guest.
So I sit down at a table and join the landlady watching an American action movie with Portuguese subtitles. Soon, two middle-aged couples come in. They seem to know the landlord and talk to him in a language that uses English vocabulary but to me has an unmistakable element of a Slavic tongue. They turn out to be very warmhearted people from Scotland. I finish my beer and join them at the bar, where the landlord now explains an interesting game of dice. The goal is simple, who scores the lowest pays a round of shots. Although I explain that the remaining coins in my wallet would hardly be sufficient to do so, I'm asked to join. The shaker goes around and as it's my turn, beginner's luck is on my side and I throw the necessary pips to keep the wallet in my pocket. Relief. Eventually, the lady next to me has the honor to choose the drinks. This is how I meet my old acqaintance Medronho, a local distillate from the fruit of strawberry trees. And surprinsingly, the four shots only cost 2,40 EUR which explains why money has never really been a prerequisite to join the game in the first place.
The next day, one of the rare south swells providing clean surf on my door step has arrived. I choose working over surfing during the day and only at sunset I get into the sea. It would not have been the same had I done it the other way round. This way, all duties for the day have been carried out and there is nothing distracting me from the glassy walls casting their shadow over me as they are approaching in the last light of day.
It should be my last surf for the next few days. One morning I wake up feeling dizzy and cold and as the day goes on, my body cranks up the thermostat and transmutes my ever-present appetite into a faraway illusion. At least this means going easy on the resources. Luckily, Djinga makes me go outside three times a day, where I discover almond trees sprouting and the sweet scent of their white and pink blossoms waking every butterfly in my tummy. The humming bees in the hedges and the chirping sparrows on the surrounding roof tops leave no doubt that spring is approaching the south of Portugal.