Today’s post, dear reader, is a race against time, for reasons that will become clear as we continue. Probably the first thing to tell you is that I am writing to you from the glassed-in balcony (which, I suppose, makes it a kind of conservatory, although that sounds a lot grander than the reality) that leads off the bedroom of our house in Penamacor. Yes, we are here!

Last Monday, we went through a very thorough check-in process at Ben Gurion airport, which involved presenting our vaccination certificates (of course) and (a requirement of the Portuguese authorities) a passenger location form giving our seat allocation on the flight and our contact details in Portugal, so that we could be located in the event of any close-by passenger having Covid-19.

We also had to complete, online, (a requirement of the Israeli authorities) a form of which we had been completely unaware, stating that we were not travelling to any country classified red by Israel. Ironically, by the time we landed in Portugal, Israel had taken all countries off the red list. Completing this form provided a healthy adrenaline rush while we were queuing for check-in.

My phone refused to read the Q-code displayed on boards in the queuing area. Bernice had more success with her phone and completed and submitted the form online in both our names. Showing astonishing presence of mind, she then took a screenshot of the confirmation that the form had been submitted successfully, which is just as well, because, although the form was supposed to be sent to her email, it never arrived. Fortunately, the check-in clerk accepted the screenshot as sufficient proof of submission.

At each stage of this process, we were allowing ourselves to believe with a little more conviction that we were actually going to make it to the kids.

After that rather stressful 45 minutes, we were through to the departure lounge, for our traditional airport Aroma snack: tea and a sticky bun – an almond chocolate croissant for Bernice, a cheese bun for me. We regard this as advance compensation for the fact that we cannot enjoy a similar snack in any of the Penamacor cafes, because of kashrut.

By the time we finished that, it was time to make our way to the gate. Boarding was on time, and very quick, with the plane about two-thirds full. We took off on time, and, after a smooth flight, landed 15 minutes early. The official at passport control asked to see only our passports, and then waved us through with a smile. Our luggage arrived at the carousel a minute after we did, We were not stopped at customs, and stepped through to Portuguese soil, feeling like Steve McQueen sailing over the wire on his motorcycle in The Great Escape. On a more prosaic note, there was no queue at the car rental desk, and, apart from one superfluous lap of the airport car park, we made it to our hotel without incident, arriving about 70 minutes after landing.

The hotel was absolutely fine for our needs, clean and comfortable, with a 24-hour complimentary hot and cold drinks machine in the foyer and the usual channels on Portuguese hotel TV: 24 channels of Portuguese news, game shows and reality shows, a couple of movie channels and several sports channels, all with Portuguese commentary. This, for some reason, always includes Eurosport snooker. Over the years, I think I have watched Ronnie O’Sullivan in at least ten languages.

The following morning, the weather was bright and clear, and we were on the road by 7:40, having spent 10 minutes taming the car’s nat sav system. The hotel was only a two-minute drive from the motorway, and since I felt well rested and we did not need to break the journey, we arrived at the house at 10:30. It was wonderful catching up with the kids and, to our delight, Tao was completely at ease with us immediately. Even Lua, the kid’s dog, seemed cautiously accepting of our presence, which is just as well, since she is (theoretically) a guard dog, and, although a puppy, she is already the size of a small pony: the perfect size for the kids’ land, but ridiculously oversize for our little house.

Over the week, Lua has grown much more relaxed. The first night, when I got up to go downstairs to the bathroom in the middle of the night, Lua was sleeping in the hall outside the kids’ bedroom, and gave one low, quiet growl. By the end of the night, she had realised that my wanderings throughout the night are just bathroom breaks, and not attempts to murder the kids in their bed, and she remained silent. When we took Tao to bed with us one night to give the kids a break, Lua spent the night on the floor in our room, just to make sure Tao was okay. Since then, she has slept downstairs, as usual.

The rest of the week was fairly routine: shopping, playing, shopping, playground, shopping, shabbat. We managed to combine one shopping expedition with a visit to a fairly large playground, which Tao enjoyed, but apart from that most of our time has been spent reading to and playing with him at home. Since we have a long video call every week, we did not expect to see any dramatic changes. However, we have been surprised by the complexity of Tao’s sentences. One example, from before our visit to the hypermarket 40 minutes away, was: ‘Go to supermarket, buy truck with doors that open and close.’ What grandparent could fail to comply with a request expressed with such competent complexity!

We have also been struck, not for the first time, by the intensity with which Tao plays, and the length of time that he can stay absorbed in what he is doing. He is passionate about diggers and dumper trucks, and can play by himself, narrating to himself what he is doing, for a very long time.

He is also an avid devourer of books and songs, giving the reader or singer his undivided attention. Needless to say, both Bernice and I are quite comfortable with that state of affairs, and it is nice, for a change, to read a book with him on our lap or sitting next to us, rather than having to turn the book to face the screen and read the story upside down, peering over the top of the page.

Shabbat was very special for us. Tao had been eagerly looking forward to it: not only because he had spotted the bottle of grape juice we had brought, and because he loves challa. On Friday night we sang, and he remembered that he had to wait for the bracha before drinking his wine. On shabbat morning we sang, and then ate lunch. When we finished singing havdala, Tao said: ‘Now we eat’, and was rather disappointed to discover that, no, now we go to bed.

Today (Sunday) was a very special day indeed. The long, complex and multi-layered process of preparing the floor of the tipi* on the kids’ land has been continuing for many months. After levelling the ground, building a retaining dry-stone wall, laying a layer of rocks, a layer of gravel, a layer of soil and then a levelling layer of fine-sifted soil, Micha’el and Tslil were now ready for the final layer of cob. This is a mixture of clay-based earth, double-sifted to almost the consistency of sand, water and straw. The kids had prepared what they hoped would be enough soil for the cob, and today was the day for laying the floor.

They enlisted the help of a few friends, and invited us along to watch the momentous event. First, Bernice, ably assisted by Tao, watered the floor to ready it to receive the cob, while one team began mixing the cob, by hand, by foot, and then with spades and trowels in a wheelbarrow. The second team then began laying it like plaster in the tipi. Micha’el was uncertain whether we had enough sifted soil, and, after the first couple of loads, it seemed likely that more would be needed.

By this stage, I found, much to my surprise, that I felt invigorated by watching so much hard work, and wanted to join in. So, Micha’el and I headed off to a nearby part of the land, where he had started digging a swale – an open trench following the natural contours of the land, to catch rainwater and channel it to be used for permaculture irrigation. We carried on digging, then sifting the dug soil, and wheeling it back to the tipi area for a second, fine, sifting. Bernice, Tao and other two toddlers (children of the friends helping) joined in with this. We were able, over the rest of the day, to sift enough extra soil so that just enough cob was produced to complete the floor.

After a delicious alfresco lunch of pasta, salad and fruit, work proceeded a little less energetically in the afternoon (certainly, as far as I was concerned). Bernice and I headed back home with Tao early enough to shower before the kids arrived home. Once we were showered, I came upstairs to start writing this, knowing that it was a race against time. It’s now 7PM and I can already feel myself starting to flag. So, I’ll stop here, and leave you with some shots and videos from today’s activity.

*When I was growing up, Red Indians lived in teepees. (Well, of course, they no longer did, but you know what I mean.) Now, I understand that they are Native Americans, and it appears that they live (or, more accurately, no longer live) in tipis. Some people might call this progress, but I’m not entirely convinced myself!