Bob of Small End

by David Hockey

  Chapter 3 Portugal

  It was still dark when Bob climbed into the station wagon Monday morning. He had packed his suitcase Sunday and tied a strip of red cloth to the handle so he could easily recognise his bag when they arrived in Faro. He put the novels Sam had given him at Christmas in his take-on bag together with a few sweets. Jane suggested that he suck them during take-off and landing because they might help him equalise the air pressure change and stop his ears from hurting. “I use sweets but Joe doesn’t,” she said. “He just swallows and that works well enough for him.” Bob said he’d try Joe’s way first to see what happens. It was an exciting thought, to be flying through and above the clouds. “I hope I have window seat,” he told her.

  Joe parked the station wagon in the long term parking lot at Gatwick and they took a shuttle to their terminal and joined a small crowd whose suitcase labels indicated that they would be on the same trip. Jane and Joe chatted with a couple of them until their guide arrived. She welcomed everybody, said her name was Charlotte and counted how many were present. She then told them they couldn’t check-in yet because there were four more people to come. Ten minutes later they turned up and apologised to everyone. “Our bus was caught in a traffic jam. We’ll catch an earlier one next time.”

  Charlotte told the group to take their baggage to the counter and check-in. Bob stood immediately behind Joe and Jane and watched what they did. When he gave his ticket and passport to the agent she asked him if he wanted a window seat. “Yes please,” he replied. She then gave him his boarding pass and stuck the ticket for his checked-in bag on the back.

  Charlotte was flying with them and when everybody was ready she took them to the boarding lounge. Forty-five minutes later Bob was staring at Gatwick from the air. He recognised the main road they had driven along that morning then clouds blocked his view, replaced a short while later by bright sunlight. It was amazing to look at the white fluffy shapes, occasionally catching glimpses of land far below him. Shortly afterwards he saw the Channel, then Europe, lying beneath their feet.

  Disembarking at Faro, going through Immigration and Customs and collecting baggage was easy and quick, so quick that he had to review what happened when he was on the coach to be sure that he remembered the details for any future visit. Ninety minutes later they arrived at their hotel in Lagos. He was happy to learn that it was close to the centre of town. He would get up early each day and take a walk; he wanted to see as much as he could and make the most of his first time aboard.

  The two week holiday was a mixture of free- and coach-days, when they visited other parts of Portugal. Their meals, when they were in Lagos, were eaten in the hotel. Bob got a bit tired of that and several times went with Joe and Jane, or with anther couple, to eat in the local restaurants. First he ate fish and chips then he tried barbecued sardines, having been told by a man who went there every year that he should try them because they were wonderful. Bob liked them immediately but he also tried several other seafood dishes. Fish, cooked by any means, quickly became his favourite food and he decided to cook it more often when he was home.

  Walking in the early morning became a habit and he quickly memorised the streets in the centre of the town. On his third day he noticed an attractive-looking bar and took Joe and Jane there that evening. They liked its ambience and often dropped in after their evening meal. One night they sat next to a group of three women who were celebrating an anniversary. Two of them occasionally spoke English so Jane asked them what they were celebrating.

  “Maria has been divorced for three years and both Isabel and I are divorcees so we know how it feels to be free of an unhappy marriage.”

  This surprised Jane and she said that she and Joe had been married for thirty three years and were still very happy. Bob added he also was very happy during his marriage but his wife died three years ago.

  “Would you like to pull your table next to ours?” asked Jane. “We have longed to talk to some Portuguese people. Joe, buy us a round of drinks.”

  It turned out that Maria and Isabel were travel agents and enjoyed practising their English. Most of their time was spent booking people on tours and, occasionally, guiding them. They worked together in the same agency; Liliana worked in the shop next to the agency where she sold dresses. They chatted about Lagos and Portugal and then about England. All three had visited London and Maria had guided several tours there and in the Lake District. A few minutes before leaving that night Bob asked Maria for her agency’s business card.

  “I very much like Lagos, its streets, buildings, restaurants and people, and I’m thinking that I’d like to come again next year, for a longer time. If I decide to do that what would it cost to rent an apartment for a month?”

  “It depends where that apartment is and its size. The agency doesn’t rent apartments but I have a friend who does. I’ll get some ideas from her. Would you like her to show you some?”

  Bob looked at her and smiled, “I’d rather you did that. Can you?”

  Maria looked at him and his smile and thought, ‘Well, why not? Time I got used to being with a man again. A walk with him can’t do any harm.’

  She smiled back and said, “Okay. I can take an hour or two off, they owe me several days. When would you like to go?”

  “Joe, when’s our next free afternoon?”

  “Wednesday.”

  “Could we meet, say at 2 on Wednesday Maria?”

  “Sure. Meet me at the agency. The address is on the card.”

  As he got ready for bed that night Bob thought about what he had told Maria. It seemed he’d already decided to make enough toys to pay for a holiday next year. Until that minute he really hadn’t been sure what he was going to do. He must have made his mind up subconsciously. He wondered if it was the correct decision as he drifted off to sleep.

  The agency where Maria worked was in the Old Town, three blocks away from his hotel. She had the addresses of four apartments from her friend. Two of them were within walking distance. The first was within the Old Town; it rented at twelve hundred pounds a month during January and February. The second, which was just outside the Old Town’s boundary, cost nine hundred pounds a month. Both were nice places; each had a bedroom, a small kitchen, a living room and a tiny balcony.

  “There are two more to look at but they’re further out. Do you like the ones we’ve already seen?”

  “Yes I do. Especially the first. I like its layout better than the second and its balcony looks onto a square. It would be nice to sit there with a coffee and watch people pass by. But I think it’s a bit too expensive for me.”

  “Well lets go and look at the other two,” and Maria took Bob back to the agency and into the small parking lot that lay behind it. “We’ll use my car. The apartments are not far away but it’s uphill. Do you mind walking back? You told us you like walking and I’d like to drive home after we have seen them though I could take you back to your hotel afterwards if you want me to.”

  “Let me see where they are before I decide Maria.”

  The next two apartments had the same features as the ones they had seen, a bedroom, living room, kitchen and a balcony. The monthly rent was eight hundred pounds. One apartment faced west and the other faced east, that was about the only difference between them. They were about six blocks from the Old Town and about the same distance to the waterfront.

  “How do you like these?”

  “I prefer the second one, the one that faces west, but the first one you showed me this afternoon is still the best because it’s in the Old Town. It’s close to the waterfront, the restaurants and the bars. That’s the place I would rent if I can afford it and I should know if I could by August or September. Would that be too late to rent it or another one like it, in Old Town?”

  “I don’t think so but I’ll ask my friend to write to you so you’ll know if you should book it earlier. Give me your address.”

  Bob copied it down on the back of one of her cards then Maria said, “I must
go now. Do you want me to take you back to your hotel?”

  “No. It’s not far and it is downhill. I’ll walk, see some of the city I haven’t been to before and I won’t get lost. Thanks for showing me these places. Will you be in the bar the next four days?”

  “No. I’m going to be with my mother. She lives in Lisbon and I won’t be back until Monday. That’s the day you leave isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Well, if I return next year I’ll see you then. Thanks for showing me these places.”

  “I’m glad I did. I hope to see you again.”

  “I hope to see you too,” replied Bob, with a smile.

  As he walked away Bob wondered why he said that. Was he just being friendly? Or had Claire’s influence awakened a wish to become friendly with women. Interesting. He didn’t usually say things like that.

  His walk back to the hotel was enjoyable. However the views of the waterfront were broken by buildings, several old, dilapidated, but graceful homes and some modern, uninteresting-looking apartment blocks next to several others being constructed. The area was certainly not as interesting as the Old Town. Yes, he decided, that was where he would rent, even if it cost more. He could easily earn the difference, selling forty train sets would do that. He wondered how many Rose or Jenny had sold by now. Probably none, for it was still the wrong time of the year.

  There were two more coach outings that week. The first was to a vineyard, the second they had visited. The first time Bob hadn’t bought any wine but this time he liked the red and bought a bottle, noting that it was much cheaper than the wine he bought in England. He had already decided to buy a couple of bottles of Taylor’s Tawny Port at the airport’s duty-free shop. Port was now one of his favourite after-meal drinks and he had drunk a glass each evening since he had been given one on the first night.

  The last outing was to a long beach, twenty miles east of Lagos. Children and a dozen people dashed in and out of the water and others made castles with the sand. Bob and Joe walked along the beach for a mile or more, chatting about the holiday and saying how much they had enjoyed it. Bob told Joe that he was thinking of renting an apartment for a month next year. He asked if they would be interested in doing the same thing but Joe told him that they had been discussing Spain. They liked Portugal but they also wanted to see a bit more of Europe. The year after that they thought that they would try a week in Paris or Berlin.

  “You should think about going with us to one of those cities Bob. They would be quite different from Lagos. We’d visit the museums and art galleries on that trip. Would you like to do that?”

  “I think so, but I’m not ready to do that yet. I’d like to join you if you go in a couple of year’s time and if I have enough money.”

  “Good. I’ll remind you of that,” said Joe.

  They returned to the group to have lunch, a special farewell buffet held in a large restaurant. Bob chose a mixed seafood casserole and drank a local beer instead of wine, just for a change.

  There were no organised activities on the last day, Sunday, February 11th. This gave everybody time to do what they wanted, to buy last-minute gifts and to pack their cases for the airport bus which was leaving at six Monday morning.

  As Bob had expected the journey home was simple. There were no surprises for he remembered the Faro airport layout and now knew what flying was like. The only thing he didn’t know was the Customs procedure entering England but it was easy to understand and remember. Walking back to Joe’s car Bob realised he could easily travel to Europe by himself now. He didn’t have to go on a tour, especially not if he had an apartment waiting for him. The only problem would be getting to and from the airports but there were plenty of busses in England and on the Continent and he didn’t expect that part of the journey to be difficult.

  “Thanks’ for asking me to go with you Joe, Jane. It’s been lovely. I’ve learned so much and had such a nice time.”

  “And become a seafood eater and a port drinker too!” said Joe.

  They laughed and Jane repeated what Joe had told him, that they would be going to Spain the next year, and asked Bob if he would like to go with them.

  “I don’t think so Jane, but I might return to Portugal. I haven’t decided what to do yet. Maybe in the end I’ll decide not to take a holiday.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “Well I’ll have to make lots of toys and I won’t do that if they’re not selling. I’ve been thinking a lot about what I should do during the holiday. I’ll tell you what I’ve decided when I know.”