Madeleine – the Farm Of The Poppy

As it was the 99th anniversary of the end of WW1 recently, I thought it would be interesting to show our home – The Farm Of The Poppy.

Portugal was neutral in WW2. It tried to be neutral in WW1, but it got sucked into the conflict. Madeira and the Azores were shelled by U-boats, and the Portuguese sent artillery units to fight on the Western Front. There is a war memorial to the Portuguese dead in one of the main squares of Lagos, and I visited that on Luz Tour #7.

By pure coincidence, our new home is called The Farm Of The Poppy. Note poppy is singular. The plot almost certainly was farm land once, but poppies were never a crop. It is simply a pleasant name to stick on the front of the house.

The connection, or non-connection, to Madeleine is simple. It takes about 25 minutes to get from here to Luz. Our US visitor has just made that journey, with the aim of watching an Algarve sunset. After a walk on the beach they ate at the Paraíso, the restaurant used by the Tapas 7 on the afternoon of May 2007.

I have not checked the search radius that was used for Madeleine, but I’m pretty confident we are outside of it. So think 25 minutes by car, and let me talk you through The Farm Of The Poppy.

The plot faces roughly south-east at the rear. Look near dead-centre and there are 3 larger trees and a shiny metallic object. Those are roughly 120m or so down the garden, and represent the half-way mark.

There are lots of plots in and around Luz that make our garden look tiny, so do your own arithmetic on how many men would be require to search just one house and one plot of the thousands within the search perimeter.

The Farm Of The Poppy is on 4 levels.

At the bottom are 3 ageing, decrepit outhouses. They were stuffed with the previous owner’s junk. Now they are stuffed with our family’s junk. I could hide more or less anything human-sized in there. There is also in there somewhere a commercial-sized chiller. And the outhouses have a working electricity supply. Though the chiller is not in use at the moment because it is under so much junk.

By the way, the thing in the outhouse that looks like a small car is a tiny BMW look-alike, bought for our 2-year-old’s birthday.

Just above the outbuildings, you can see the underbuild. That’s where us oldies live. Most of it is obscured by our lemon tree in the centre. We converted what was a large garage to be our lounge. Before that, it was filled with yet more of the previous owner’s junk.

Above that, with the 4 arches, is the main level, where the kids live. Although that looks high at the rear, it is actually at road level on the other side. That layer is 3-bed, lounge, kitchen-diner etc., and I suspect was once the only real living area in The Farm Of The Poppy.

Perched on the roof is the final level, another bedroom with two small windows on this side. It has larger windows on the other side, which is cooler in summer.

This is around 150m down the garden. The shiny, metallic object from the first photo turns out to be a light trailer. The brown heaps on either side are the remnants of a row of trees that have been trimmed. One could conceal a large object under that lot, and finding it would take a great deal of manpower.

This is the bottom of the garden, perhaps 250m from the house. Most of our land is unfarmed but flat, so concealing a body requires digging harder than Scotland Yard’s Operation Grange did in 2014. But if you look closely, you will see other challenges. Much of the east and south sides of our property are unfenced. We simply have a ditch and bulrushes. A searcher’s nightmare.

Our neighbour’s property poses different challenges. Three houses, building supplies, a chicken coop, and a goat pen. Our house did have a pig pen, but it had to be removed on order of the Câmara.

All photos were taken on he 99th anniversary of the end of WW1. I will commemorate the 100th anniversary with something a little more sombre and respectful. This was simply a test run to check out some of my planning.

One final thought. If we had lived here in June 2014, when Operation Grange was digging up central Luz, I would have had no reason to visit the dig. Consequently I would not have got interested at all in the disappearance of Madeleine McCann. It would simply be an event that passed me by a fair distance away.

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