A few weeks after the recent property purchase aborted, I was contacted by a land owner who was given my details by the man I had been trying to buy from. The other man had land quite close to the previous property, and dealing with him was as it should be – a pleasure! What a pleasant change. He answered all my questions (even taking the time to translate into English) and the ownership documents were all present and correct. However, when architect Odete checked the land classification for planning, it was ‘no-go’ for my project. Bummer! It was only a quarter of a mile from the previous land, but its classification was affected by proximity to a river and this severely restricts the buildable area. However, he told me he had other land in the south of the Braganca region, an area I was planning to investigate, as it happens.

So, I decided to take a trip the following weekend. I would see his land while I was there, even though I couldn’t check the classification in advance. Usually, information is available on each municipality’s website but as classifications are under review, the web page has been taken down. I was told, however, I could visit the municipality offices in person and request it. Completely illogical. But this is Portugal.

A few days later, I set off in rain and fog which was forecast for the whole trip. The southern part of Braganca, like the north is sparcely populated, rural and extremely poor. The towns I visited were traditional and utterly charming. A hard life for the local population but aesthetically attractive to outsiders. And the scenery was jaw dropping, though inhospitable for my project. Steep sided valleys, carved by dramatic rivers such as the Douro and Sabor which snaked across the landscape. As the heart of the regional wine growing industry, vineyards stretched as far as the eye could see, planted on painstakingly carved terraces that went to the very top of the hills, which were home to almond and olive groves too. How much blood, sweat and tears were shed building those terraces? The Portuguese are incredibly tenacious, though a life time of physical toil is evident in the bodies of the elderly, who are bent and bow legged.

The next day I visited the Sabor River Beach. It was shrouded in thick fog but I managed to catch a glimpse of majestic river. It’s common in Portugal to create inland beaches on the larger rivers and lakes, often importing sand from the coast. In the summer, they look like any coastal beach and even have life guards. Smaller rivers usually have ‘swimming pools’ with steps taking you down from the grassy banks into dammed sections of the river which are designed for swimming. Whether or not they live on the coast, the Portuguese can enjoy the water in the heat of the summer.

Sadly, the land I viewed was not suitable but it was useful to see it, along with several other parcels of land I had found online (which were also unsuitable). You have to put your feet on the ground to get the feel of an area, when you are planning to buy. As a result of the trip, I was able to discount southern Braganca and re-focus my efforts on the north of the region.

However, very little land is advertised for sale, so I need to move as soon as possible to make local contacts and see what I can find for myself. Finding a house to rent is proving to be another challenge, partly because there is not much tourism in the area. This would be appealing if I wasn’t looking for accommodation. So, I have had to consider a few other strategies. One is to buy an inexpensive house to live in while I acquire land and submit a planning application. The process could take a year, and I am definitely feeling the need to unpack all my boxes now and live in a less temporary and more comfortable living space. I have had enough of being cold. Portuguese houses are designed for the summer and most are miserable in the winter, lacking central heating or insulation. It was warmer in my fifteenth century farmhouse in Wales than in the brand new house I am currently living in, and that’s saying something. Today is quite a pleasant spring day – outside, at least. But inside, as I write, I am wearing four layers and a woolly hat. The evenings are worse. The only places I am truly warm are in the shower and in bed! An alternative strategy is to buy a small piece of land and put a yurt or a wooden cabin on it (with a wood burner, of course).

Having spent several hours researching houses to buy (thankfully, these are not in short supply), another trip beckons. This will be the ninth trip to the region in the last few months, which is a six hour round trip from where I am living, plus all the driving when I get there. My poor car would also benefit from moving.

I have to say, things are feeling on the messy side at the moment, two steps forwards and one and three quarter steps back. Of course, it’s good practise maintaining my balance and staying connected to the divine helping hand. Being an eternal optimist, I live in hope. So, I imagine the gates of opportunity will burst open at any moment now.

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