“Good morning,” called down Stephen (in Portuguese) to the elderly lady
who was making her way across the Town Square from the church; It was
Sunday and approaching midday.
“Up here.” Seeing our neighbour look around, a little confused as to the source of the greeting, my husband clarified where his voice was coming from.
After locating Stephen, she remained, for a few seconds,
uncertain of who the man leaning our of the 2nd floor window was, then
recognition dawned and she identified him as being one half of the
couple with whom she exchanged the time of day outside cafés, but more
recently from the previous late afternoon’s concert she’d attended in
the gardens of the library.
The concert was one that Stephen
performed, without any payment, for our friends and neighbours. We are
extremely lucky to have a good life that requires little financing; for
us no Netflix or similar packages, no TV in every room (the one in the
lounge no less than 60”, obviously), no mobile contracts, no car each...
You get the idea, don’t you?
We might have had all the above and
more if we'd stayed in London, but 13 years ago we moved to rural
Portugal for a simpler life, something we have generally achieved. Not
to say that we don’t have our creature comforts, especially since moving
from an old stone village house to a town apartment, and we sometimes
have to resist strongly being seduced by things we don’t really need or
even really want in our heart of hearts.
The younger Portuguese
people we know are not without aspirations, but even for this generation
they appear very much tempered by quality of life and family time. For
two burros (donkeys) from Blighty, this way of thinking suits us very
nicely indeed.
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