Sometimes you can forget how lucky you are....

Discussion in 'The Intelligence Cell' started by Auld_Sapper, Jan 24, 2012.

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  1. me.

    It's been a fairly slack day today so first thing this morning I hitched up the hound and wandered up the road to one of my local bars. Not the closest bar, that's an ex pat bar, and although some of them are my friends it's nice to go local sometimes. Well, actually, it's nice to go local lot's of the time (What's the difference between an ex pat Brit in the Algarve and a jet engine ? Well, the jet engine will eventually stop whining !)

    Anyhoo, had a couple of coffees, shot the shit with the local farmers, had a long one sided conversation with the owners two year old daughter about her dolly (she conducted the entire exchange with her dummy in her gob) before she gave in, giving it the old "Iberian Shrug" and wandered off muttering "Auld Sappero no understando whato the fucko I'mo talkingo abouto!" But, hey ho, it's an improvement on a few months ago when the mere sight of me would have her bursting into tears and screaming into the distance.

    Anyhoo, wandered back home with the dog and got to thinking, don't time go fast ?
    Now I don't know if it's because I live here or it's a consequence of age or whatever, but time just seems to fly and not just the years, weeks or days, **** me ! even minutes fly by! I can wander from the livingroom to the kitchen and end up standing in the middle of the room thinking "What the fcuk am I standing here for?" So I make a cup of tea and take it to the missus who moves the other three cups of tea out the way and smiles benignly.

    Anyhoo, talking about time slipping away, we're now into year eight down here in the Algarve and the time has just flashed by and for sure it's not all been sweetness and light and there has been a few bumps on the road, but, I tell you what, I wouldn't exchange it for anything. We've been here long enough to have as many Portuguese friends as we have ex pat pals, we've integrated and fcuk that's nice ! We rent a small house on a little farm with a Portuguese family and God these folks are the salt of the earth, my kinda people and that's nice too.
    Just before I headed back up to the cafe tonight for my 'vinho tinto' nightcap I spent the afternoon on the terrace with my new juicing machine squeezing a rake of orange and lemon juice for the house with oranges and lemons from the farm.

    It might be seven odd years we've been living down here but I still love the 'foreign-ness' of the place. I still get a buzz out of reaching over the terrace to pluck a lemon from the tree when I need a slice for my my G&T. I love this time of the year when spring has sprung, the flowers are out, the almonds in bloom and the birds are here and the whole place is lovely. I love the challenge of dealing with the bureaucracy that goes with Portugal and doing it in the local lingo (especially when they look at me and immediately assume I'm German !) I love it down here.

    Anyhoo, for all of the above reasons and the fact that the Belfast Bitch is still with me and for a number of other reasons (but, if I told you about them I would have to kill you !) I thank my lucky stars.

    I just thought I would like to share that with you.


    Auld Sapper

    Ubique ya bass
    • Like Like x 2
  2. Good to hear you're still above the ground and enjoying life

    "Lang may yir lum reek!!!"
  3. "Like".
  4. Good onya mate, always great to hear life's vignettes.
  5. TheresaMay

    TheresaMay LE Moderator DirtyBAT

    You know what AS? I've been thinking once my daughter's all grown up and got her own gaff and all that and I finally leave the mob - I wouldn't mind doing something similar. Always fancied Menorca, mainly to avoid the typical infiltration of summer Brits and their hoards of whining kids, that you get in the usual spots (Benidorm, Magaluf etc).

    About 10-15 years ago, our town had one or two regular flagrants who I'd throw a fiver (or a tenner if it was millionairres' weekend) to for them to get themselves a hot meal - and even the odd Big Issue seller would get a few hits so he could replenish his hessian sack full of Skol Super in time for the Saturday night kicking that followed the 3am emptying of the local clubs in town.

    Nowadays all the 'Beeeg Ishoooo' sellers are Romanian, all the friendly Portugeuse cafes have closed down and been replaced by Iraqi Kurd cuisines that are all empty because they are all stood around the entrances in intimidating groups chugging away on their stinky Turkish fags. The enitre street is drowned out at night with the sound of wailing muslim music pumping out from beneath the dirty white sheets they have blocked out the windows with (instead of buying curtains). All of these 3 bed terraces are home to at least ten Afghans/Iraqiis and consequently bins are overflowing by the 2nd day following the fortnightly collection. Elsewhere the Brits remaining in the street continue to set a shining example of how to conduct yourself by having a full-blown domestic every Saturday night, and after finally getting to sleep in the early hours of the morning, it's not long before the sound of a copper's 'Big Red Key' is smashing down No. 60's door again for peddling cocaine.

    Your kids will come back from secondary school at the end of the day with bits and pieces they have taken home from what they've been studying - Diwhalli (is that how you spell it?), Yom Kippur, Ramadam - but God help them if they mention Christmas (it's Winterval, you racist bastards!). Schools and local councils tied up in red tape, endless price hikes in fuel and cost of living, pay freezes, redundacies, lay-offs, businesses closing down left right and Chelsea, banks not lending, bankers getting richer, immigrants living rough, hate preachers winning appeals to stay in the country they clearly detest.

    But none of that really bothers me - it just makes the news more interesting.

    What really pisses me off is that I've recently opened a basic bank account to get a Visa Electron card to get past Easyjet's 'Booking Fee', only to find they have closed that little loophole.

    The bastards. I'm off to Spain (for an extra £9.00 may I begrudgingly add...)
    • Like Like x 1
  6. Pre paid Mastercard is your freind.. just load it up online from your bank or CC. They cannot charge you booking "fees" on those puppies.

  7. **** stumbling around drinking booze, slicing lemons and making tea. Get back to writing your book about Stumpy, you old bugger.

    P.S. Good to know you're still in the land of the living.

    Sent from my brain using my ARRSE.
    • Like Like x 4
  8. Having escaped from Manc-chester 30 -odd years ago I'd have to agree that getting out of the UK was one of my best moves. Some days it's hard to decide whether to walk down the hill and fish a world class trout river or throw the kayak on the roof rack and go chase gurnard and crayfish (rock lobster) half an hours drive away, It's great living on a volcanic rock in a quake zone in the Pacific Ocean.
  9. Don't have to go that far mate, things ain't that bad down here in Devon.....a bit expensive, but still pretty much like England used to be in other parts.....once. Not sure how long it can last though.
  10. [QUOTE
    and for a number of other reasons (but, if I told you about them I would have to kill you !) [/QUOTE]

    And I do hope you realise that feckin "quote" has taken me an hour and a half to figure out how to do it !!!!

    Ubique ya bass
  11. Batsard !! That was supposed to be a witty repost to Miner !!!

    Note to self, " Get the kids to explain how this fcuking thing works !!

    Ubique ya bass
    • Like Like x 1
  12. Auld Sapper that's one of the nicer yarns I've read here. Goodonya :)
  13. Nice one, AS :) 'Twas "Stumpy - the truth behind the handler" that I first read on here. Glad it's working out for you mate, and yeah, stick with the locals ;)

    Ubique y'old fecker

    (And where's the book?)
  14. To DC (can't make the quotes work and my fecking keyboard has decided that it#s now speaking Portuguese!!)

    One of the absolute hoots that I get down here and have had for years is the Brit ex pats and when I say Brits I mean the lot, English, Scottish, Welsh, etc is that they'll sit here in the bars, in the countryside mind not down in Albufiera or some other touristy shithole, and without the least sense of irony will batter on about "I left Scotland, England, wherever, 'cos it's full of foreign fcukers that won't learn English, not paying taxes, sponging off the State, blah dee fcuking blah" and there Portuguese stretches to asking for a beer (badly) and that's it. Then they jump into their UK registered cars (with no tax, MOT or insurance) and fcuk off up the road whinging "'cos the council won't let me build my villa on agricultural land wot I bought for buttons !!!"

    I do larf I do, but I'm reminded of a good mate of mine who worked in the Nuclear industry way back in the 80's who moved from Dungeness to work at Torness in the Scottish Borders. He took a pay cut and a substantial one, why, he wanted his kids to attend a school where the majority of the other pupils spoke English as a first language.

    Fair play to the man and 'though I did accused him of being a racist little English cnut ('cos I could and he was my mate and cleverer than me, so fair game) and accused him of doing the same thing by diluting our Scottishness by his white English colonialism he did have a point (though how much 'English' his kids learned in schools in the Scottish Borders is open to debate.

    Anyhoo, and I really must stop posting when I'm on the red wine, to get to the point, such as there is one, Britain only has herself to blame for this multi cultural nonsense. For sure I'll take the piss out of the Brits that have lived here for ages but can't speak the lingo, but I actually love them 'cos I've got a nice little business going here doing things for Brits that can't or won't learn the lingo. Tax your car, pay your rates, buy a house, pay your fine no probs I can help because I speako the lingo and I dunno about any other country in the EU but down here in Portugal you speak Portuguese and that's fecking well that.

    There is no explanation in 27 different languages at the council offices and whilst a lot of the staff, especially in Albufiera, speak English the Brits here do themselves no favours. Let me tell you marching into the offices, waving your hands above your head and shouting loudly "DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH !!!" which so far as I can see down here is the standard greeting of, "I'm a Brit abroad but I can't speak your language so I shall gesticulate wildly and shout and you will understand me!" gets a resounding, "Nao! Em Portugal, fala Portuguese!"

    And that's how it should be, for sure we Brits get off lightly because English, or variants thereof, is the international language and it is perfectly possible to live here or in other countries I do suppose and get by without learning the local tongue but what all these idiots are missing is the fact that if you can't communicate with the locals you are missing out on 60 or 70 or 90 per cent of what the place has to offer!

    On one hand I would love the Brits down here to stop whinging about foreigners living in good old Blighty and never learning the Queens English and make an effort to get their heads round the local lingo and integrate more.

    On the other hand if they did they'd infest the little local bars that I go to to get away from the fcukers !!!

    Be careful what you wish for !!

    Rave over. Red wines finished !

    I love you all !

    Ubique ya bass !

  15. My sis and her man live in NZ dude, went there years ago when he was head hunted to grow potatoes for McCains! Dunno about him but sis has no intentions of ever leaving the place.

    My argument always was what the fcuk is the point in traveling that far when you can get the same scenery in Jockland or Norway !!


    Ubique ya bass