I still haven’t got around to starting my life story, but rather this blog contains an update on my latest tests and the answer to a question many have asked me. That question is ”Why did you decide to retire in Portugal?”
The reason for the delay in my life story is that I am trying to do it all from memory, or by the recollection of others. My very early life and my genealogy are not too clear as I left home fairly early and therefore I was not in a position to share memories with my parents or family. I mainly have to rely on my female relations for this. I have found women have much better recall than men. I say this genuinely from my own experience. For instance, my late sister Morag used to regale dinner guests in my presence about my earlier life exploits, much to my embarrassment. Needless to say, many of these memories, I had very little or no recollection of.
The second example of this keen ability in the fairer sex is from my experiences in marriage. I have had two marriages, the first to Diane Belinsky, the daughter of Isobel and Derek Belinsky who farmed at Arden Estate on the Lomagundi Road. Diane is the mother of my daughters Storm and Janine. My second and present wife is Rozanne Cary, the daughter of Bob and Shirley Cary from Cockington Estates, Darwendale, and the mother of my son, Selby. Anyway, the proof of these two ladies' recollective power is when having a serious conversation on a subject we did not entirely agree on, very suddenly, out of nowhere a distant misdemeanour would manifest itself in the discourse. Yes, often out of context, but no matter. My daughters are now busy substantiating this evidence.
Hence, I am still trying to garner some more information before I start on my memoirs. I really need to ensure their personal recollections do not become my memories.
The Colonoscopy and Endoscopy
Last week ended off with me having further blood tests and yet another ECG. Some of these tests were in preparation for my Colonoscopy and Endoscopy, which was organised by the good offices of our family doctor last Friday. Combined with my medication, reduced fluid intake, and preparation for my colonoscopy, I have lost 12 kilograms since leaving the hospital some 14 days ago. I have to limit my fluid intake, but I eat like a horse.
Nonetheless, I was looking forward to these two procedures with much trepidation. My concern was put to rest when the doctor reassured me they would be using different tubes for the separate procedures.
I was put under general anaesthetic to carry out these procedures. The anaesthetist had done his internship at Kings College Hospital, London and the consulting Doctor was a Professor and Head of Department at one of the faculties at the University Hospital of Coimbra. Needless to say, they both spoke perfect English. But, to their chagrin, after three years in Portugal, I could not speak Portuguese. The Professor asked me, not in any malicious way, what would they think of him in England, if after three years he could not speak English. I quickly rebutted - I did not know because I was Scottish!
I received the results of both procedures within the hour. I sent my results, which were encouraging, to my surgeon. Meanwhile, we await the result of a biopsy they took of one area which could be of concern.
During our family ”Houseparty” call on Sunday evening, my children pressured me into seeking the fastest way to complete the list of outstanding tests and scans. After the call, I sent an email off to my surgeon relaying their message with a little less tirade. It was 7:30 pm on a Sunday evening. Within five minutes my surgeon replied. She asked to be given until Tuesday to try and follow up the formalised appointment times at the University Hospital. If no success by then, we can consider alternates between us. I now have both my PET and MRI scan appointments, I am just waiting for confirmation for the thorax CT scan date.
Why Portugal?
Rozanne and I often get asked the question by our friends and many others about our move to Portugal. “Why Portugal?”
My answer, which may not be the same as Rozanne’s, is as follows:
1. Rozanne’s first and only choice Weighting 30%
Rozanne had worked in Portugal in the eighties and we had visited the country together. We agreed that it was somewhere we would both like to live out our old age. Personally, I think deep down the real reason Rozanne chose Portugal was that she wanted to return to her roots. Her olive skin, dark brown eyes, and the way she has fitted into Portuguese village life has raised my suspicions. I’m convinced she has Portuguese DNA. The only opportunity to have achieved this would have been if something dubious happened in Beira during her parents' many visits there. A common annual event for most Rhodesians back then. I have not dared voice my suspicions to my mother-in-law, but if she reads this, I am sure I will get a definitive reaction. The only mitigating fact against this is Rozanne has inherited her father's work ethic and giving nature. For myself, fondness for Piri-Piri chicken was enough incentive to consider Portugal. Little did I know, Piri-Piri chicken is Mozambican and not from the ex-colonial power.
2. Cost of living, health care, security, and access to residency Weighting 30%
The cost of living was important to us, as was the cost of health care. When we bought our property in Portugal, two years prior to physically moving here, we looked at the cost of continuing to live in Africa compared with the cost of living in Portugal and the UK. At that time, five years ago, Portugal was about 50% cheaper than in the UK. Healthcare in Africa, due to my age, would have been beyond our means. The easiest way to gauge a countries affordability without my trusty spreadsheet is to look at the average salary and the standard of living of any said country. In Portugal, the average monthly salary is €885 compared to the UK €2,100 with a reasonable standard of living. Also, at the time we could transfer our NHS benefits to Portugal from the UK which was paid up in that country. Having access to British citizenship allowed us to register as residents in Portugal under the EU. Health care and access to residency are very important in choosing a new country of residence. I should also mention the weather was also an important factor. Admittedly, I do find winter in Portugal to be quite cold. That and the poor fishing are my only gripes.
3. The people, lifestyle and food Weighting 20%
The Portuguese are friendly, generous people. In our village, people are always willing to share what little they have or offer a helping hand. Our immediate neighbours, Augusto and Lucilia are constantly dropping by with homemade cakes, bread, chorizo along with fruit and olive oil. The Portuguese people have strong family values, structures, and great respect for their elders. Just what I need at my age. I admire those qualities.
4. Friends Weighting 20%
Rozanne and I had some very close and dear friends from Zimbabwe who had settled in Portugal. This was an important added attraction. Friends are really important to one's well being. This also allows me to diverge slightly and introduce you to some of the people that contributed to my happiness. Furthermore, in me telling you about them, you can perhaps see that it can be truly tough living in Africa.
The first friend I would like to mention is Peter Horsman, one of my farming neighbours when I first arrived in Zimbabwe, which was Rhodesia at that time. Peter had moved from Matabeleland to Mashonaland where he continued farming and ranching. He was a breeder of Brahman cattle and one of the leading Limousin cattle breeders in Zimbabwe. His wife was a racehorse breeder. Peter did not care for horses. From time to time we would decide, one or the other, to deliver a gift of good Single Malt Whisky to the other. The only rule was, we had to finish it before the bearer of the gift returned home later in the evening. Drinking and driving, much to our shame, in those days was not deemed an issue on our quiet roads. Peter moved to Portugal in the early 2000s when he was dispossessed of his farm during the land redistribution exercise. Implementation of this exercise was often undertaken by violent thugs.
Peter’s family had a chunk of land on Ardnamurchan across from the Island of Mull where I was brought up. He informed me that his family had made their fortune growing and manufacturing cotton in what is now known as Pakistan. He was a great entertainer. He often enlivened our evenings by tickling the keys on his piano and rendering his own colourful compositions.
A mutual close friend of Peter and I was Lady Daphne Powell. It was shortly after my first and only divorce that Daphne came to work for me as my cattle manager. Daphne was gay, but had been previously married and has children. I called her affectionately “Lady van Dyke”. As I was enjoying my time as a “Born Again Bachelor”, Daphne and I got on like a house on fire pursuing our common interests. Cattle and women. In that order! I once asked Daphne what the catalyst was that led to her change in sexual orientation. She candidly said, “Because my husband was such a shit.” Daphne had to leave her home on the farm under violent threat from the land invaders.
The next great friend I had living in Portugal at the time was Sally Sandeman. Shown in the picture on the right. She was the wife of my late good friend Ian Sandeman. Ian was a farmer, businessman, ex-politician, pilot, and a stalwart in our Darwendale community. Sally, in her own right, was a well-known socialite and successful businesswoman. She ran her own air charter company and was a pilot herself. Ian died in a plane crash in 1995 on returning from a fishing weekend in Magaruque, Mozambique. He was piloting his own plane while Sally was flying another on the same route. Her passengers at the time coincidentally included my current in-laws, Bob and Shirley Cary.
That brings me to my last close friend who resided in Portugal, Sally’s sister, Jane. She spends fifty percent of her time in Portugal and the rest of the time on her estate duties in England. Her husband, David, also died in a plane crash while flying over the Kafue National Park in 1997. On his death, their daughters became the heirs to the Holy Island of Lindisfarne in Northumbria. The air tragedies did not end there. Graham Younger, a good friend of Sally's, died when the plane, which he was piloting from Lusaka, crashed on the way to David’s memorial service. Sally and Jane both seemed to carry these traumatic events stoically and with resilience. Their combined experiences would have broken many.
Peter died of cancer just before we arrived in Portugal and Daphne left to stay in Cirencester, England due to loss of her sight. She has fought and won a fight against cancer while residing here in Portugal. Sally, my dearest of friends, died of cancer last year. On a final and sad note to this blog, my father-in-law died in my wife’s arms as they were about to depart to attend Sally’s memorial service.
“My greatest fear is to become a burden to my family.” Peter McSporran
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
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