Quartermasters

A week later the truck arrives in Vilar. We have found a rental along the main road of Vilar. It is pouring rain and freezing cold. The house has been uninhabited for a long time and it is not modernised. It is huge though, and has three bedrooms. The furniture is awful and worn down. We move most of it to the basement.

We mount our beds. New matresses and linen. Portuguese carpets on the floor for our cold feet. We furnish the kitchen with our own stuff and try to add some TLC. But it turns out to be very hard in thie house. It is too old, too dingy and the atmosphere feels wrong. Also, when it is cold, it is cold until the last tiny corner of the house. For the first time in years we need hot water jugs in our bed, plus the excess of all duvets available. During the day I try to work on the kitchen table with an electric heater under the kitchen table and some extra blankets… we are slightly suffering….

And this is not really our taste…

The water from the tap tastes like iron. We find out that it is groundwater, pumped up from a well in the garden. We also find out that this pump keeps us awake during the night, especially as one of the toilets keeps seeping through. We cannot cook with this water or brush our teeth with it. It leaves red stains in the bath. The taste and the smell cling onto everything. We don’t even know whether this water is safe. The geyser spits out only luke warm water. After a couple of days we diminish the time spent in the washing room and go to bed early under the pile of duvets.

Our landlady promises to repair, time and time again. She sends her husband or some handymen. But nothing gets properly fixed, despite our encouragements. They have all kinds of excuses, but more and more we sense that they actually really want us to leave. They did not foresee all these extra chores and investments when renting out their house. Meanwhile we suffer a bit more and more every day. We need to find a better place, soon!