Holding on to anger, resentment and hurt only gives you tense muscles, a headache and a sore jaw from clenching your teeth.

Joan Lunden

 

 

Well said, Joan Lunden, but I am sure that readers have had similar experiences so I am not going to write at length about each darned obstacle. I shall content myself with mentioning a couple of examples of how things conspired to delay our move forward.

Dealing wth the bureaucrats was a breeze compared to dealing with 'The Bank'. Not our bank, but one that popped up out of the blue to tell the company that they owed them big bucks and would they please pay up immediately - or else! This bank, which will remain nameless, was the product of 5 mergers over several years. As banks go they must be considered efficient, as they trawled through all the records of the previous mergers and started to collect outstanding debts.

Years prior to Maria becoming the company's main troubleshooter and 'Girl Friday', way back in the dim distant past, they had borrowed a relatively small sum of money for a project, from one of the defunct (and now merged) banks. Over a period of time, with banks disappearing and then re-emerging as something else, the company also overlooked the repayment of the loan. Each bank reincarnated compounded the situation by omitting to inform the company of its responsibility. The new bank were much more switched-on turkeys, and were now being total bastards about the matter. They not only wanted the capital sum repaid immediately, but also about 15 years of unpaid interest, which by now exceeded the capital sum by a huge amount. The weasel-wording-winkers even had the nerve to magnanimously offer to negotiate the repayment period and terms. This prickly little problem landed squarely in Maria's lap!

You might wonder how this affected us. Simple. The bank now had a claim on the company and made it clear that they were calling the shots. The unspoken ultimatum was, "Do it our way or we will foreclose." For Maria to be able to produce the money (that the company did not have readily available) she needed to sell off company assets, mainly agricultural plots. But each time she negotiated with a prospective buyer she needed to get the nod from the bank before she could close the deal. This soon became a marathon nightmare. Negotiate a price, check with the bank, get the nod, sell the plot, pay the bank. And they still hadn't begun to discuss the small matter of the outstanding interest!

You are probably ahead of me by now. I've hinted previously that we had negotiated a very favourable price for the property, based on several factors like sitting-tennants, condition of the property, the split in valuation between 'rural' and 'urban', and several other smaller 'gotchas'. But if that 'firm offer' was referred to the bank, we were certain that they would reject it. So we had to wait, and wait, and wait, until such time as Maria could slowly, inexorably, clear the company debt. Long story short, she eventaully did it, but it took what seemed like an eternity. The one thing she was determined to do was to ensure that she could present herself personally at the bank to make the final payment. This was so that she could show them 'the finger' and tell them to 'get out of her life'! I wish I could have been there. Banking in Portugal is still a male-dominated sphere, and they don't like dealing with a female. Less so when the woman has managed to outmanoeuvre them!

The furstrations we continued to experience can be highlighted by mentioning one other, concurrent, episode that impacted on everything that was happening at the time. Maria managed to negotiate the sale of a small plot of land adjoining 'our' property (always the optimists, us). The deal was with a local landowner who wanted that bit of land to build half a dozen units to rent. We weren't too worried about his plans because the rented houses would be separated from us by a wall several metres high that he was prepared to erect as part of the sale agreement. The sale was completed (jumping through the hoops I've recounted in the preceeding paragraph) and the new owner started to clear the area. Maria, always the 'wheeler-dealer', had a quiet word with him and he agreed to divert his tractor, for an afternoon, free of charge, to clear and level the back garden of the first property. We still didn't own it, but we've always been optimists - and tenacious!

 

  
  
  

 

Continuing the saga: the new owner of that newly acquired bit of land was duly notified by the local council that permission to build was being withdrawn. They, the council, had reappraised all the properties in that area and in their considered opinion building in that area was risky due to the tendency for the river to flood once every ONE HUNDRED years! The new owner immediately asked for his money back, naturally, and Maria was sent two paces backward in this infernal tango. The decision by the local council was eventually overturned, mainly because they had no hard evidence to substantiate their claim, other than 'Urban Legend', and that allowed the sale to go through. But all this tap-dancing was eating up valuable time. Weeks turned into months, and months into years!

We were beginning to wonder whether somebody had actually hatched some sort of Machiavellian plot against us ...

 

There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.

J R R Tolkien

 

 

To parody Tolkien, when you start looking for something the outcome isn't always what you expected. Sometimes, what you find comes as a bit of a disappointment; sometimes the surprise is a pleasant one.

Maria's journey into old company records was tantamount to opening Pandora's Box. The search became complicated enough to make you feel that 'Hampton Court'

Find the path from the entrance at the bottom of the Maze (red triangle) to its centre (red dot).

The Maze - the most famous hedge-maze in the world - is situated at Hampton Court near London. It covers an area of a third of an acre (about 1350 sq meters), and its paths are half a mile (0.8 km) long. You might think, looking at the illustration above, that this maze is a very simple one. But don't be misled with its seemingly "simple" pattern; it is incredibly easy to lose yourself!

The Maze was planted in the Hampton Court Palace Gardens in 1702. It still attracts people from all over the world, and every year thousands of them are happy "to be lost" in it.

 

was in danger of being relegated to the second division.

In retrospect we regret that we didn't make copies of the older, hand-drawn documents that Maria stumbled across. We were in a hurry by now, wondering how many more obstacles were going to be thrown up by the bureaucrats; there were many! But for now we were concentrating on finding irrefutable evidence of the existence and layout of the properties as they were today. One of the earliest documents that showed the current layout is reproduced below. At least this was a start.

 

 

An encouraging start! Further research brought to light more recent 'mapping' of the area undertaken by 'The Conservatory', the department responsible for keeping and issuing records of properties. If they issue you with a document to support your claim, it lasts for 30 days and it will cost you a few pennies, but it is the 'proof' you require when you have to deal with other local busy-bodies (don't you just lurve bureaucrats?) to have more permanent documentation produced.

 

  

 

More digging by Maria, and things started to take a downward turn. By this time she was wearing two hats; one as the 'seller' (the Company's representative) and the other as the 'buyer' (representating OUR interests). Nice work, if you can get it. The small problem this time was that 'The Conservatory' clearly indicated that, although the property was shown as a group of five houses, all with their own enclosed 'garden' space, the houses were classed as 'Urban' and the gardens were classed as 'Rural'. It meant that even though the plans showed roofed areas on the land, they couldn't be built on if the land continued to be classed as 'Rural'. Worse, the split between 'rural' and 'urban' also meant that the houses and land had to be bought as separate parcels. In other words, none of the houses actually had gardens attached to them! How could this have happened? Who knows! All we knew is that past and present owners and administrators of the company had never really given the situation any thought. Why should they? They owned the lot!

There were several solutions to this predicament, but only one that made sense.

• We could have elected to buy the property as it was, a split of 'urban' and 'rural'. Since there was more 'rural', and the price of 'rural' was about the tenth of 'urban' the combined property and land would be that much cheaper. But we would not be able to erect any structures on the rural bit.
• We could have elected to only buy the houses and allow the 'rural' bit to come with the houses by default. Attractive thought, but one fraught with danger. If at some future date one of the successors to the current owners decided that he or she wanted that little bit of land and simply took it, we would not be able to do a thing about the situation.
• We could arrange to have the two bits combined as a single parcel which would obviously increase the cost, but it would simplify the deeds.

We plumped for the last option.

Maria, with both hats firmly clamped to her head, arranged for the property and land to be amalgamated officially. We paid for the 'search' (not as magnanimous as it may seem), the company paid for the rest. It was in our interest to hurry this along; it was in the company's long term interest to establish a precedent for the sale of all the other properties when that time came. And there was "simple-ole-me", thinking that the only obstacle to buying a house was actually getting hold of the money to pay for it!

Little did I know that even bigger, unforseen headaches, were just over the horizon ...

 

Evaluate what you want, because what gets measured, gets produced.

James A. Belasco

 

 

Time for a bit of introspective assessment. Time for inventory, to itemise, to take stock! We needed to calmly assess the 'Pros' and 'Cons' before rushing a decision.

 

Pro's

  The look (will be retained, 'as-is')
  Location (self-contained and by the river)
  Buying whole street
  Five houses (one or two will be combined)
  Half an acre of 'Garden' (this is not a plus!)
  Water & electric already hooked up
  Price (preliminary talks indicate 'affordability')

---

Con's

  Condition of property (pretty run-down)
  Cost of restoration (roofs and toilets essential)
  Sewage & drainage need to be connected
  Cesspits need to be filled in
  Occupied by sitting-tenants (for how long?)
  Isolated (the flip side to being 'self-contained')

 

This was a quick assessment. Not a long list. We knew more would be added as time marched on, but would they be 'tics', 'tacs' or 'toes'?

Some sensitive sleuthing established that only two of the three 'occupied' residences actually were. One old fella had been forcibly removed by his family to live with his son in the local village, and it didn't appear that he would be returning. He had reached the stage where he was incapable of looking after himself. That left the two houses in the middle. The one that adjoined the larger end house (the one I initially thought was the one we would be buying) was occupied by a 90-year-old lady in obscenely good health. The other, the one that was a roofed-over converted passageway between two houses, was occupied by another old couple.

It transpired that the couple had a son who also lived in the local village. He immediately became a PITA when the whispers reached him that we were interested in the property. He took an aggresive stance, proclaiming that he would be enquiring with the local council as to whether his parents would be evicted from their HOME; that it would be grossly unfair; that if anybody had a right to the house it should be he! Of course I took all this as a lot of 'hot air', but it was nevertheless unwelcome as we had absolutely no intention of evicting anyone. Much to our surprise the geezer slang:
The English Dialect Dictionary defines geezer as, "a queer character, a strangely-acting person"

It probably equates loosely to today's 'dude'

followed through on his 'threat' and approached the local council to ask about the best way he should go about acquiring the property "... for his parents."

Much to his (and OUR) surprise the council informed him that they didn't actually have a record of the property he was enquiring about, which meant they couldn't proceed with his request! On further reflection we concluded that the council was probably right, even though all the other service providers recognised the 'address'. It was, after all, a passageway that had had a roof stuck over it and a doorway built into the front facade to turn it into a 'house'.

Fortunately, that was the end of his limited attempt at tilting at windmills (and he isn't even Spanish!), but the ball had now bounced firmly back into Maria's court. She would have to do some detailed digging in company records to establish exactly what was real, and what was an apparition.

Discarded Shakespeare and took up Agatha Christie and the Belgian waxed moustache. This mystery was more up his street, "N'est-ce pas?"

Curiouser and curiouser ...

 

Fear is a habit; so is self-pity, defeat, anxiety, despair, hopelessness and resignation. You can eliminate all of these negative habits with two simple resolves: 'I can' and 'I will'.

Anonymous

 

 

It was a nice feeling to think that this picture-postcard setting could be ours. Then the enormity of the task sank in. Sure, it looked pretty. Sure, the location was ideal. But what was the reality of converting these 'houses' into something that we could occupy and in which we could feel comfortably 'at home'? I mean, did we have the time for all the crap that would certainly come our way? Did we have the time to undertake the 'undertaking', and still be able to enjoy it? I suppose I went through the whole gamut of 'negatives' that appear in the quotation above!

You can assume, correctly, that I was on a downer. Maria on the other hand was up-beat enough for the both of us.

Let me introduce you to a couple of 'Maria-isms'.

Mild spring Sunday afternoon. Late, lazy breakfast. I, with (ex)military precision and correctness, offer to do the washing up. She has other plans.

ME: "I'll wash up. Won't take a minute."
SHE: "Nah!"
ME. "Honest, I'll have it done in a jiffy!"
SHE: "The sun is shining. The dog could do with a run on the beach. The dishes will always be there. The sun might not. Let's catch it while we can."
ME: "Oh, OK!" (able to see the rationale of the argument, and always able to recognise an order when I hear one)

AND

On the occasion I was tinkering with a shelf over the computer monitor and allowed the screwdriver to slip, gouging a huge scratch into the front face of the monitor bezel:

ME: "Bugger!"
SHE: "What?"
ME: "Stupid, stupid, stupid me! Ruined the monitor!" (I've always been prone to exaggeration)
SHE: "Don't worry about it. It will last forever." (and how right she was; the scratch still haunts me to this day!)

So whereas I, the pessimist, could see only dungeons in the air she, the optimist, was able to see the castle - (thank you Reader's Digest).

I still had many questions, not least of all was how many of the 'houses' were occupied. Turns out the three in the middle still had tenants. So, we could only be sure of actually occupying the two end houses! There would be a whole bunch of itinerants 'parked' between our lounge and kitchen on one side of the house and the bedroom and bathroom (the latter would still need to be built) at the other. Remember, these are sitting-tenants who have the right to continue to live there. For as long as they lived, that is!

I took up reading again. Macbeth and Hamlet became firm favourites.

Especially the more grisly scenes ...

 

You gotta have a dream. If you don't have a dream, how you gonna make a dream come true?

Oscar Hammerstein II

 

 

We eventually managed to arrange a trip up north about ten days later, not because we didn't want to go earlier, but because other matters colluded to keep us from taking the "Magical Mystery Tour" of the site that Maria had discovered.

Our arrival, although designed to be as low-key as possible, was still an event for the residents. A whole contingent of gabbling old women (and a few toothless old men) took every opportunity to welcome 'Donna Maria' into the fold. The word had got out that we were showing an interest in one of the houses, and they were going to make damn sure that Maria was not given the slightest impression that she was anything but welcome! As far as they were concerned they were going to get their very own 'representative', at the high court of the company, living amongst them. It appeared that I too was accepted, as her 'consort', and the fact that I hadn't even seen the property, that we hadn't made a decision, that it was probably unlikely that we would be as charmed with the reality as we were with the picture-postcard view hadn't crossed their minds. And why should it? Simple folk; delightful people!

My first impression of the house was to wonder if Maria had 'blown a gasket'! It was pretty obviously run-down; I'd seen that from the pics. But I wasn't prepared for how small the house was. It was tiny, and I mean TINY! Four little rooms and no bathroom and toilet. WTF. Depression set in fast. So fast that I didn't even think of bringing up the subject of price. Why should I? This was a no-brainer. NO SALE!

Maria still had a surprise up her sleeve. She informed me that even though the house we were looking over was pretty darn small, there was scope to increase our living space when we knocked down a few internal walls and combined the space gained from the other FOUR houses. Come again? Yes, we were not just going after the house on the right, we were going for all five. The WHOLE STREET!

One just has to take a step back and reassess the situation when faced with news like that. And the panorama above is more or less what I saw. Suddenly things did not look so bleak. Yes, there was plenty of potential there. And the little ones on the left, probably the original cowshed and pigsty, could also be adapted into something liveable.

As the song says, "You gotta have a dream."

Our 'Dream' was rekindled ...