It's Time...

WITH the windows thrown wide open on these hot, sultry evenings, it often feels like that awful moment when war has just been declared and people are expecting a squadron of enemy planes to appear overhead. Far worse than the threat of bombs, however, is the fact that every house in Portugal is currently awaiting that first terrifying cry of the new season: “Mosquito! Mosquito!”

Forget about the former Spanish oppressors across the border, no doubt enjoying their latest siesta, this is the moment when the eternal struggle between the defiant Europeans of the south-west and their traditional insect adversaries really begins. As a foreign national who is inextricably caught up in the treacherous crossfire of this annual bloodbath, I am forced to choose between a perilous forest of rolled-up newspaper and the unparalleled horror of being eaten alive.