From Under a Bridge to High Society

Covid was an unhappy period of isolation for most people, but for others it was a great opportunity. I belonged to the second group, even though I was not making vaccines or face masks. As an IT guy with a lenient boss, I could work remotely, and on my brother-in-law's advice I moved to Madeira. Back at the beginning of Covid, it was nowhere near as overexposed as it is today, and it was a small patch of freedom in an otherwise mad and hysterical world.

I spent most of the winter in Funchal, where the weather is acceptable all year round, but from time to time I went to the quiet, deserted north. There were countless levadas and waterfalls to discover on the island, and I liked sleeping out in nature. On one trip, I was caught by a heavy downpour and hid under a road bridge. In winter, there are no restaurants or accommodation operating on the northern part of the island, and because I was too cheap to pay for a taxi to Funchal and look for lodging at the last minute, I settled in there. It was my first time sleeping under a bridge, but it did not seem that bad. No unpleasant smells, no homeless people, and I was well protected from the weather. At night, I was disturbed only by the screeching of fighting cats. When I lifted my head to look, the fight stopped and the cute little predators stared back at me in shock.

A few days later, by a lucky coincidence, I arranged temporary, week-long but cheap accommodation through a WhatsApp group in some house with other digital nomads. It turned out to be a group of snobs in a polished villa. So I, the miser who would not spend a few euros on a taxi, the cultural barbarian who sleeps under bridges, was now going to live with European high society. By chance, I inherited the largest room in the house, with its own balcony directly above the pool, a private bathroom, and a four-poster double bed. For a movie-perfect contrast, all I lacked was my own servant.

It took only a few minutes before I began to feel just how little I belonged there. The women in the villa were genuinely friendly and welcomed a new face. Among the men, however, there was a strict hierarchy, and the local leader and I did not click at all. Even though, as IT guys, we technically had things to talk about, and he did not seem to despise me outright, I felt falseness and an acute lack of belonging. A week here would be more than enough.

My only real friend in the villa was Julian from Qatar. Together, we once rescued a French tourist. First we brutally honked at the poor woman before realizing that, in her underpowered car, she could not start on the steep hill and was therefore blocking the road unintentionally. Even though I was barefoot, I offered to drive it while Julian grinned slyly at me.

The culmination of the week was a forbidden Covid house party. I probably looked like an apparition there too, someone who had ended up there by mistake. I am not a very good chameleon. Everything happened: alcohol, drugs, flips into the pool, twerking, and then a quiet, tense fifteen minutes while the police drove by outside. The four-poster bed turned out to be useful after all, because three French girls settled into it. None of them could say a word when I then made myself comfortable between the two prettier ones. It was my bed, after all. If you are comfortable with physical closeness, four people in a double bed will not seem unusual to you. Even though I knew it was hopeless, I tried my luck with one of them and was brushed off in a nonchalant tone about how she had a boyfriend.

The next day, everyone was already packing to fly away or regroup in other villas. The group in that exact lineup was in its final days. As I later learned from the original occupant of the presidential room, he had offered it to me precisely because he had not felt very comfortable there. But every cloud has a silver lining, and I became very fond of the idea of renting a villa for communal living. Later I made friends with several compatriots and organized my own villa with a Czechoslovak group. This time, however, I was the leader, with all the privileges that came with it, and that period is among the best I have ever experienced in my life. But that is another story.