The phone rings. I always answer, because it could be cyclists doing the Eurovelo, for example, who want to camp. And that is always a YES. I hold the phone to my ear and hear: “Bom dia, are you … she has some trouble with my name … Hell …?”
That is how marketing call always starts
I answer affirmatively and wait. She continues with: “Are you over sixty?” Oh, that is different from the sales pitch I was expecting. It is about something completely different: an offer for a bone decalcification test, and a few more of those things, cholesterol, diabetes, vascular narrowing, and all those other things you are apparently supposed to expect as a sixty-something.
I’d rather not. But I prefer to stay healthy, so perhaps it isn’t so stupid to have something measured for a change, and thus know a little more. It is better to stay ahead of the problems, right? Don’t you agree? Generally speaking, I really like to avoid this kind of medical stuff, but I can appreciate that the Portuguese government apparently wants to keep its population in good health.
I might as well do it then.
She then bursts into a monologue of, believe it or not, about 10 minutes, which I listen to with increasing astonishment and amusement, judging by the sound of it without taking a breath. If I understand correctly, everything that can possibly be measured and examined is measured and examined, and I get the results after an hour. And I am not allowed to drink coffee after breakfast.
“Wow!” I say, laughing, when she has finished speaking, “Is that entirely from memory, or are you reading it from a piece of paper?” She laughs too: “No, entirely from memory.” “Respect,” I say, and we wrap up the conversation in good harmony. Tomorrow I am expected at 5:30 pm in Pouca Pena, not far from here.
I get lost. Of course. Even the no-nonsense American from Waze can’t make sense of all those small roads and equally small villages. (But! It is a beautiful area, mind you, so close to where I live!)
When I’ve nearly boxed myself in, and am trying to ask for directions from a bench full of old men, a neat new white car pulls in between, with a neat young white lady inside wearing gold sunglasses, who offers to drive ahead of me to Vila Nova de Anços so I can turn onto the little road to Pouca Pena from there.
The famous Portuguese helpfulness from an unexpected side. I wave to the old men, who keep shouting and pointing that I need to turn right *there*, and then left *there*, while I turn and go after her. Because of that friendly action, I’m on time, but that wasn’t even necessary because, of course, I have to wait a bit.
A man soon approaches me
with a broad smile and a brilliant comb-over, who asks me for my name, age, and weight. “I weigh vinte-e-oito kilos,” I answer, and he steps back a little, looks at me, and laughs heartily: “Nonononono, that can’t be!” I think: “Do I look that fat, or what?” and confirm once again: “Certainly, vinte-e-oito … well … it might be vinte-e-nove…”
What I say is that I weigh twenty-eight kilos, and when I find that out, we both burst out laughing. “Once upon a time,” he laughs, “but that was probably quite a while ago.” And whether I would like to wait a little longer, because Doctor Helena is taking a short break.
But then it is finally going to happen.
Doutora Helena is an articulate 74-year-old woman, as she explains, with three daughters and six grandchildren, and after some medical-sounding questions about whether I take medication, have any ailments, or sleep well, she soon starts talking about a Clínica de Milagres – the Miracle Clinic – where this doctor … she taps on what appears to be a frequently used A4-sized book … is the head of, and this doctor …. tap tap tap …. is a sort of miracle doctor because if you sleep on his mattress, that is the best thing you have ever experienced in your life.
At least, that is what everyone says
We move to another table where a small device stands, connected to a laptop. I have to place the small rod attached to the device by a wire loosely on my hand, no squeezing, and then the device starts measuring and knowing all sorts of things. Aha! “You won’t find this so easily in Portugal,” says Doutora Helena, “but in Spain they are everywhere.”
A screen appears on the laptop showing a cross-section of a human, of lungs (because those are measured too), and a few colored graphs in between. A beautiful green line moves up and down, and there is quite a lot of life in the graphs as well. Next screen, roughly the same but with a heart, different colors. In the room, various people are sitting at tables pushed far apart, talking softly.
Is this what this marketing call was about?
Different than expected yet again. A day full of surprises. Some pages are printed, we go back to our table. Doutora Helena takes the printed papers with her – I notice: she doesn’t print everything, I would also like to see the thyroid function graph? – and she begins her explanation. I should buy tourmaline, because my heart is tired. Blood is a bit thick (I think: here we go – everyone on blood thinners!), the elasticity of the vessels is a bit diminished, the pumping isn’t quite as smooth anymore, the pressure in the coronary artery is a bit worrying, but otherwise everything is fine.
The little device measured my cholesterol, knows about the calcification of the spine, and provides figures on the coefficient of rheumatism, osteoporosis, and bone hyperplasia (excessive growth of your bones, if you want to know). “What are the conditions in your bedroom, what is your mattress like, how do you sleep?”
I answer that I have tried everything, including an air mattress, but now I have a very thin mattress, which at least doesn’t dent when I sleep, and that I always have the window open.
Based on my answer and the results, I should really consider placing tourmaline next to my bed – “You believe in natural remedies too, don’t you?” Absolutely! – and there she starts talking about the miracle mattress again. It concerns a topper that incorporates graphene and has two massage points. If you had a good mattress, you wouldn’t have to spend even more on a new one; you could just put this topper on top.
“If we are to believe everyone, that is the solution to so many problems! And since your back and hips certainly need some attention, I would definitely give this mattress serious thought.”
The man with the comb-over comes back, at her discreet calls, to make a lucrative proposal. Whether I would prefer a lump sum or installments.
I say: “That depends a bit on the amount, doesn’t it?” – and he writes the amount at the top of the paper.
By now, it is clear to me what this marketing call was about
But – fair is fair – it is a nice experience, a pleasant drive through a beautiful area, a great memorized pitch, and a particularly professional presentation.
Back home, I quickly Google a “mattress with graphene.” At Groupon, they have a real nice promotion for 199.99 euros, with a 66% discount. If you’d pay that off in 60 months, it would be 3,33 euros per month – instead of their 56,66.
.
(Disclaimer: I’m a bit tired of the keyword stuff and Google’s dictatorship. So here they are, and I’m also hoping for the cleverness of AI in this matter that it will still be found and read, but that I don’t have to force myself to use the right terms in the title and headings. #marketing #medicalcheckup #mattrasswithgraphene )
We moved here in 2000 from Rotterdam, the Netherlands, to the Termas-da-Azenha, Portugal. We started to rebuild one of portugals cultural heirlooms: Termas-da-Azenha, an old spa.You’ll find mosaics and paintings everywhere. Since Covid we rent the houses for a longer period of time, not as holiday houses anymore.
Each week a little blog about what is happening around us. An easy read. A few minutes in another world. A little about what it going on in Portugal. If you plan your holiday to Portugal, it might be a nice preparation.
In the weekend we publish it on Bluesky, Facebook, Pinterest and Instagram.