Missing

Chaos in a week which felt like it lasted a month

I don’t remember a week like it. It lasted a month, but was gone in a flash. The emotional rollercoaster was so steep the cars barely stayed on the tracks.

A powerful storm brought thunder-flashes and torrential rain, battered the valley with hailstones and scared Simon the dog so much he bolted from just outside our front door and fled into the darkness on the worst of nights.

We imagined him drowned in a ditch or gored by a wild boar, we searched the land with flashlights, drove the muddy tracks, and barely slept as our little Los Angeles dog had to learn survival in the wild at 12 years old as the storm raged on.

At first light we drove the surrounding countryside shouting his name wondering why he hadn’t come home.

Have you seen Simon? The poster we put up around town

We picked through mudslides and dredged pools hoping not to find his body, we put those awful missing dog posters up around town and asked everyone we know to spread the word in their WhatsApp groups knowing more bad weather was on the way.

Our dam was leaking – in at least three places – the waterlogged clay wall slipping down the steep slope, and we started to think it might actually break and send millions of litres of water and mud sweeping down the valley.

After three months and two attempts to ship an Australian-made dam sealer from The Pond Specialist in the UK and hundreds of euros more spent importing it twice (thanks Brexit) we’d finally scattered the “Damit!” on the lake surface, but honestly didn’t hold out much hope.

Full to overflowing: but leaking too

Our road out of the valley was blocked by a slipped timber truck, then a vast cavern was carved out by the flood so now it’s only just passable...and I had two Portuguese exams to get to and get through.

The to-do list was speculative rather than realistic...although everything on it really needs to be done...

But here we sit in a moment of calm on our rollercoaster ride at the top of a hill with clear skies, waiting to see what’s coming next: how many dips and climbs we have to barrel through, how many hoops we need to loop until we get to stop for a bit.

The month-long week all began with a Plasma Party.

The container before: applying anti-rust paint and planning the first cuts

Our pillars of stability in this extraordinary week were Alan and Margery Gledson – our great friends for whom nothing is impossible.

Anything that needs to be done can be done...but a missing dog is either alive or dead and there’s nothing anyone can do to help you cross that uncertain canyon until you know which of those it is.

But before that chaos began and with a storm still approaching we’d got straight into the to-do list.

“Container plan” was top of the list and that involved converting our rusted yellow shipping container into a beautiful, functioning new building.

The 12m long metal beast will be the water treatment plant, a winter-storage area for furniture, and potentially a place to put a couple of chest freezers...once the proper power network is done.

I’d bought two off-the-shelf PVC windows, to fit along with the €20 one bought at the Wheel of Fortune auction, and neighbour Daniel had donated his old basement door.

Alan had ground off the rust, we had sandpaper, large pots of paint, the ever-willing Ray Morison in town to help us out...and we had Niels:  Prince of the Plasma Gun.

And we had a plan for how to make it work this time.

Containing myself: we had to use an angle grinder on the first attempt at cutting a few slots for the water pipes to reach the treatment system

Our first attempt to plasma-cut a couple of slots in the container for the water pipes to pass through had ended in disappointment and the use of a backup angle grinder.

The chain of power cable extensions running from a dodgy socket through a series of muddy puddles wasn’t going to cut it...or cut anything with a power-hungry 10,000C plasma gun and its compressor in crime.

For Plasma Party part two, Alan and I hauled the generator into the back of Cassie the Hilux and up the hill.

Once the first hole was measured, marked and prepped we realised it wasn’t going to be all smooth cutting...old and dirty fuel was probably the cause of the stuttering start.

Only when we split power consumption with the dodgy power cable did we start to get somewhere, and while Niels gave me a 101 in generator maintenance the rest of the gang were furiously painting.

Niels accurately cut small metal tabs which could be drilled and bent back to secure the wooden frames made from recycled planks from Joep and Vera’s now-finished and fabulous-looking building site. Great job guys!

That just about cuts it: Niels plasma cutting…like a knife through frozen butter

Two days later the door and windows were in, the gaps were sealed and the job was nearly done.

Next up will be jamming together a wooden frame on the inside walls to fill insulation and investing in some sandwich panel roofing to handle the heat of the summer sun...oh, and repainting the white walls washed away by the weather.

Doors and windows: the whole job was done from start to finish in three days. Come back soon Alan & Marge!

At least Alan & Marge had made it to the beach a couple of times before the storm hit – we were inland on a wine podcast recording trip at the remarkable Adega Mayor winery and stayed overnight in a pousada in an old monastery we’d not been to before in Vila Viçosa.

I’ll be writing all about our time with CEO Rita Nabeiro and winemaker Carlos Rodrigues on the wine blog The Big Portuguese Wine Adventure, and featuring the trip in our upcoming podcast series on Alentejo.

Interviewing Ageda Mayor CEO Rita Nabeiro in Campo Maior

While we’d been living it up in the interior, it had been a terrible night back in the valley – Garfie had been outside barking at the thunder and lightning (to keep it away) all night...right outside the guesthouse door...and Simon had been shaking under Alan & Margery’s covers.

When we got home nobody had slept and there was more weather on the way – but “dig out plants and clear up behind the house” was on the ta-da list with huge thanks to Ray and the Gledsons.

Our fire was lit, the weather had arrived and Simon popped out for a quick pee when suddenly a huge clap of thunder struck and spooked him so much he raced off into the dark...in a second he was gone.

Crazy weather: nobody expected that…especially Simon who ran for the hills

I returned from my second Portuguese exam of the week to join the search party but after hours of looking we came inside hoping he would be strong enough to make it through the night.

Simon’s a city dog – born in Los Angeles – he’s travelled the world with us for more than 12 years but has never spent a night outside on his own.

When I met and married Ana I was lucky enough to become Oda’s stepdad and we decided not to have any more kids. Nine months after our first wedding Simon arrived.

I’d suggested a cat, but the girls found a little dog called Simon in a rescue place in LA called Bark ‘n’ Bitches.

(It’s how we are related to Drew Barrymore...she adopted her dog from there the following day, so we can say with full confidence that our dog has sniffed the butt of Drew Barrymore’s dog).

The “Dog Dad” hat that Daniel gave me certainly fits even when I don’t wear it.

Simon’s been a part of our life every step of the way, from LA to Nairobi, to San Francisco (via Sweden) and here to Portugal where countryside living has grown on him.

Angel: a touch of LA for Ana on our night in Vila Viçosa

Garfie’s the guard dog, Simon’s the lap dog getting grumpier and more assertive as he ages gracefully.

I’ve been preparing for the day when he will no longer be with us...and I know just how hard that is going to be...but both of us felt this wasn’t his time just yet.

We used the hours before the incoming storm to do everything we could to find him...and then did something we had done once before in the face of trauma...we went to the beach.

When we had watched fire consume our valley and thought our house and everything in it had gone – and there was nothing more we could do – we went to the beach...and then the phone rang telling us all was OK.

Plasma Party People Pork lunch: Marge, Alan, Ray and Niels with Al on wine duty and Ana on pictures

Amazingly the same thing happened again. The call came just as we arrived in Odeceixe for lunch with Alan & Marge.

Thanks to our neighbours Margarida and Vitor – and our fantastic WhatsApp support group of surrounding friends – we discovered Simon had fled to a neighbour’s house, had fought their dogs and spent the night under their car.

And it turns out Vitor has built a radio studio in the valley...in view of our house...to help him relaunch Radio Odemira...now wouldn’t you believe it? A new project on the horizon!

Simon was very shaken, cut by brambles and dog bites and had developed a thousand yard stare, but he was alive and he was back home and we could breathe again.

Stupid dog. Stupid animals – why do we have animals? Because life’s a little sadder without them.

The storm has now passed, but the lake overflow pipes are still being tested to capacity as a river now flows down the hill.

But the dam doesn’t appear to be leaking – it seems the Damit! who did what it said on the label (thanks Ben and co at The Pond Specialist) – and the Cow King has offered us rocks to fill the hole in the road.

Alan & Margery are back home in Northumberland (sadly, for them, they took the weather with them), out to-do list is shorter, and England beat Ireland unexpectedly in the rugby...so I guess things are looking up.

Let’s see where the rollercoaster take us next...

The wonderful Oda posted this on her Instagram