Living off the markets

Bric-a-brac veterans

A lot of soup has been served from the old painted porcelain terrine that Maria Judite Mestre, 61, holds in her hands. It’s to show that she specialises in the sale of crockery and books. The lid isn’t original – but it’s a detail no-one notices.

“These days, people are just looking for bargains. Before, when the markets first began, they came looking for curios and antiques – things that were really old”.

Maria Judite is surrounded by objects “like the plates from «Louças de Sacavém», decorated with horses, an old sink unit, an iron bed. Today, people buy things they need – as long as they’re as “cheap and cheerful” as possible”, she tells.

“Do you know who comes to the markets the most now? Often, it’s the people from the East (of Europe), who didn’t bring anything with them when they arrived. They buy their blankets here, their pots and pans – and this turns them into collectors!”

Maria Judite can talk like this as she’s had 12 years working the flea markets of the Eastern Algarve – in Almancil, Fuzeta, Quelfes and São Brás de Alportel. It’s an activity she does in the company of her husband Teodoro de Jesus Guimarães, 66. They consider themselves “adeleiros” – dealers in the business of second-hand objects.

But it wasn’t always like this. Teodoro is a “smith” – one of the few who still know the secrets of forging iron. It’s a profession he learnt from his father – and which his wife had to help him with when he bent the hot metal.

They began going to the markets to buy things – but as orders for their little business fell – and when the roof of their workshop roof in the old part of Faro finally caved in – bric-a-brac, bit by bit, became a way of life.

At the beginning, “it was the foreigners who organised the markets. Then it became the job of the town and parish councils”, Maria Judite explains. Today, spaces where people sell are reserved, and paid for in advance. Prices vary. A year in Quelfes, for example, costs around €82, but a year in São Brás is only €32.50. At each fair, stallholders receive their “pass”, issued by the local council, in case “the authorities” show up.

Market Sundays begin around 5am in the morning for Maria Judite and Teodoro. Very early, the van is loaded with items, packed in bundles in cardboard boxes. When they arrive, the sun is still hardly up. They lay their canvas on the ground, and organise their table. Little objects at the front, larger ones behind. “People really haggle,” Maria Judite sighs. “Yesterday I sold a table for €20 – just the marble on the top of it was worth double that! Maybe one day, things’ll improve!”

Intriguingly, a large part of the bric-a-brac the couple sells is given to them. “From foreigners mostly – when they’re going away, or redecorating their houses, they give us things: paintings, lamps, clocks. And then there are people whose old relatives have died. They call us up to come and take what we want”.

As for people who come to sell, “they turn up from all over the place! No-one has any money right now – everyone brings things to sell. What’s hard nowadays is finding enough people to buy!”

But although business is bad, the social aspect of the markets keeps Maria Judite going. “Whether you sell well, or sell nothing – you’ve had a nice morning!” she smiles.

On Sunday 7th, the couple will once again be at Fuzeta, and then, on 14th, you’ll see them at the market in Almancil.

Hot-potch of cultures

A tad more informal and diversified than the Portimão flea market is the one in Barão de São João, in the borough of Lagos. This one is more of a “happening” – with jugglers, musicians and a buzzing social merry-go-round full of multi-coloured clothing and acres of dreadlocks. Vans here start pitching up the day before, and many don’t leave before Monday afternoon. But officially, Barão’s market starts and ends on the 4th Sunday of every month - in the field next to the football pitch, just outside the village.

Couple Nélia and Rui Pedro from Lagos are both out of work. Last Sunday’s market was their first since setting themselves up in business as licensed market traders.

They had just returned from a trip to Spain where they bought some of their stock: clothes, underwear, watches, umbrellas.

“We still have to work out what we can sell best,” Nélia explains. “This is something we decided we had to try – we’re both out of work, and no-one helps you in Portugal. The government does nothing to help. I was fired from my last job with no warning, no unemployment benefit… nothing. We have four children between us – aged 14, 12, 11 and 5 – we can’t tell them ‘you can eat tomorrow’, we have to try, although I have my doubts that this will work.”

Among other things on sale on a little table set up behind the couple’s small car were excellent quality long-sleeved T-shirts. Just €5 a shirt. One wonders where the profit could be.

Rui used to have traditional commerce in Lagos. “I had three shops – but they’ve killed Lagos. Nothing works there now. I had to close every shop down – we couldn’t afford the rent! Now we’ve just got to hope this will work.”

Alongside Portuguese stallholders you find Brazilians, French travellers and many estrangeiro English at the Barão market. A real hotch-potch of cultures.

Yorkshire couple Dave and Emma arrived in the Western Algarve from UK in their camper van just over a month ago. They’ve brought with them all sorts of bits and pieces to sell at local markets: bags from Thailand, fused glass jewellery made by David.

“We run a festival café in England in the summer, and this is our way of making money when we take a break. It’s a relaxed way of helping make ends meet. We’re enjoying ourselves, and making a bit of spending money.”

French artist Alix agreed the Barão market was “an excellent way of meeting people”. She sells paintings, leather trinkets and jewellery from the mobile home she shares with her husband and little son.

During the week the couple live by working on biological farms. On Sundays, they sell their wares at the flea markets and fairs. “We don’t have so much money,” Alix smiles, “but we have a nice life.”

Palmira Reis and her mother Beatriz Glória, from Portimão, are regulars at Barão and Aljezur markets.

“We do this just to help bring money into the home,” explained Palmira. “I work as a bookkeeper in Portimão – but nothing is easy anymore. So many businesses are shutting down, I need to supplement my income.”

Rui is a street salesman in Praia da Rocha during the week, and sells bric-a-brac at the markets throughout the region at weekends. “It’s more of a way of getting out of the house,” he shrugged. “These days, it’s impossible to earn much money. Today, for instance, I haven’t even made a euro!

“In Spain, they have markets every day of the week. If we had that here, this way of making money could make a lot more sense – but not during a crisis! There’s just no money around at the moment!”

Bric-a-brac professionals

According to Liliana Neto of Vila Real de Santo António’s cultural association, flea markets began being organised in the town in 1998. Before, they didn’t exist – but today they attract hundreds of people, particularly those from neighbouring Spain.

Here, however, the recipe is different. Although open to participation by the public in general, the mood here is antiques. There’s an average of around 30 stalls – and none of them sell clothes, shoes, or household items.

Even more “strict” is the annual antiquities market held at the António Aleixo Cultural Centre. This year, it will be going ahead between 10th and 18th July.