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| View of Portugal from Spain |
You probably know the story of the tourist cramming Europe into a two-week
holiday: “If it’s Tuesday, then it must be Paris?” Luckily for those
of us who cruise on a boat at four or five knots, this confusion
doesn’t often happen. Unless of course you are anchored on the
River Guadiana between Spain and Portugal. Here is a story from last winter. Originally published by Sail magazine.
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“Obrigada,
oh, drat, no, I mean Gracias.” I’m in Spain,
and I just said, “thank you” to a store clerk in Portuguese. This
morning I was in Portugal to check my email at the local library and
of course I said, “Buenos Dias” to the librarian instead of “Bom
Dia” in Portuguese. I keep getting confused.
I am spending the winter on my sailboat, Eidos, anchored on the River
Guadiana, which forms the southern-most end of the border between
Spain and Portugal. Meandering for twenty navigable miles north from
the coast of the eastern Atlantic, the river is wide and calm enough
to sail comfortably and the locals of the twin towns of San Lucar de
Guadiana (in Spain) and Alcoutim (in Portugal) offer welcome to the
visiting cruisers.
Both towns have docks for big boats and dinghies. The general store
in Spain has almost everything I need and will order what they don’t
carry. In Portugal, I can check my email and search the Internet at
the local library. The post office in San Lucar accepts snail mail
addressed to me care of General Delivery without a fee and the one in
Alcoutim has public telephones. A wonderful restaurant on the hill
in Spain that often has a live band and a terrace bar with a view of the
river in Portugal is a regular hang out for the cruisers and expats.
San Lucar offers free Spanish lessons, while Alcoutim has a
convenient bus to the coast and bigger towns for shopping and
cultural events. English-speaking expats live on both sides of the
river in case homesickness sets in.
And so, in the course of an average day, I cross the 150-yards wide
river and border several times, leading to my confusion of where I am
and what language I should attempt to speak. I suppose that prior to
the European Union making things easier, I would also have had to
deal with passport control and money exchange difficulties, so I
should consider myself fortunate.
To add to the confusion with language, time on the Spanish side is
one hour later than in Portugal. And so when I hear eight bells
sounded by the local church, I don’t really know what time it is
until the second bell rings nine times. Then I say, eight o’clock
in Portugal, nine in Spain. I keep my watch set to Spanish time in
general agreement with other cruisers but last week I arrived in
Portugal an hour early (again) for the opening of the library. And a
few days ago I woke up an hour too early to catch the Portuguese bus
to the coast. I suppose that’s better than being late…
To get anything done, I begin my day in Spain while Portugal is still
sleeping. I take the dinghy to the dock, leave my trash in a nearby
bin, walk up to the post office to check for any “snail mail”
packages or letters, then up the hill to the general store for the
usual bread and butter items. By then Portugal is “open” and I
cross the river dropping off purchases and picking up my laptop from
Eidos, which is on a mooring on the border between the two towns, and
on the way.
In Portugal, I stop at the library, sign up for Internet and spend a
couple of hours writing. I check my email and am done before the
library closes for siesta. Sometimes I walk over to the post office
to make a phone call. I then return to the boat for lunch and some
boat work. The stores on both sides of the river don’t open again
until late in the afternoon and so I have to wait if I need anything.
However, this is also the time the cruisers are most likely to gather
on the terrace in Portugal for a beer or to check the book swap
shelves in Spain. In the evenings, I cross over back to Spain for the
four-times-a-week Spanish class and some tapas.
And so, since my Spanish is now better than my Portuguese, I suppose
I can be excused for saying “Buenos Tardes” in Portugal instead
of “Bo Tarde”. Or perhaps I should instead do what the locals do
and say what is understood in both countries: “Hola!”
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