Bernie and Di: Adventure of a Lifetime

I never intended to spend the rest of my life in the USA.  Heck I hadn’t intended to be there this long. When I was in the Army, I didn’t know about the option to take a “European out” or how to go about leveraging my presence in Germany to make contacts or get a job. And once back in the states, I got a job, got married – and life “was what it was.” But as we got older, my husband and I got talking about retirement, and I found that he was OK with the idea of retiring someplace other than the US. And then we discovered that as a police officer, he could retire at a much younger age. The discoveries kept coming and in the end, they led here: the two of us, at 54 and 57, retiring and moving to Portugal!

We’ve been here a week now, and I’m going to try to keep track of our adventures – both the grand elements of discovering a new country, and the smaller (but just as significant) elements of learning to get along in a new place.  There’s a lot – of both of those! – so use the section headings to decide what parts you may want to skim over ad what parts are interesting to you. But it’s all going to go here, so our friends and family can join us on the journey,

Getting There

We stayed overnight near the airport, since we had an early departure. Dinner with one of our favorite families was our final “Seattle memory”. With two long flights ahead, we splurged for first class – and boy is that an entirely different experience.  Angel sat at – or on – our feet for the 6 hour flight to Newark, where we stayed on the ground for 24 hours before continuing on. Earlier medical misadventures left me with a lifelong increased risk of blood clots, and I was nervous about flying so far, but my ankles were barely swollen, and by the following morning were normal again. The day on the ground gave us time to visit with an east-coast friend, a long-time Warcraft buddy who was kind enough to drive three hours to have lunch with us, and that evening we were back at the airport.

Newark has one of United’s 6 “Polaris” lounges, open only to passengers with “Polaris” tickets – like ours.  Whole different world indeed.  Once through security, we took advantage of the ‘quiet rooms’ to escape the bustle. Our entire cabin crew were dog lovers – and one has just let her old pup go – so there was plenty of love and attention for Angel. They even changed my seat to give him more space to lie down.

The passport line in Lisbon was the most efficient I’ve seen, the automated queues supported by an attendant who helped folks get their passports lined up and follow the clearly-posted instructions.  We were through in no time. Bernie picked up luggage while Angel and I took his health paperwork to the vet for review.  Margaritta, it turns out, lives near our new apartment and walks her dog in the same park, so perhaps we will meet her again.

My phone’s display died in Newark and I didn’t have my WhatsApp, but I managed to connect with our driver and our landlord via Bernie’s Facebook and email.  Pedro waves out his window as he approaches, and we find him continually effusive, though I can see Bernie tensing up at his tendency to waver over lane lines in traffic as he leans over his shoulder to look at me in the back seat when he addresses me. Rui follows in a second car carrying our 7 suitcases. Bernie and I are both ‘put it in a carryon’ travelers, and he has been embarrassed by the amount of luggage – so Pedro tells him stories of expats who arrive with a dozen huge ‘moving bags’ (huge sturdy duffels that are 3-4’ long) as we drive over the Vasco de Gama bridge – one of the longest in Europe, exceeded only by the bridge in Crimea. The sun shines brightly over the broad Tagus, so wide it seems more like crossing a bay, or maybe Lake Pontchartrain.

Augusto, our landlord, is personable and seems very sincere. He takes a great deal of time to walk us through the apartment and help us get oriented, inviting us to send any questions – not just about the apartment, but whatever we need to get settled.

At last, it’s just us in our too-big, echoing apartment. The real estate market was a little competitive, and we needed a lease for our visa, so we ended up with a 4-bedroom place for the two of us. It’s huge, even by American standards, and feels very empty! But there’s a green space next door, and a Lidl (Americans: halfway between a 7-11 and a Safeway) at the other end of the block. By the end of day one, we have food and toilet paper. We lay out the thick quilt that we packed into a suitcase, cover ourselves with Angel’s travelling blankets, and go to sleep on the hardwood floor, waking around 1 am to the COLD! No matter what we do, we can’t make the radiators generate heat. 

Bernie discovers that the cold tap on the tub does not provide water, and notes some water on the bathroom floor; we have that moment of wondering whether we did as well in acquiring a home as we had thought.  A quick message to Augusto yields instructions on the boiler (which runs hot water all the time but has a separate circuit for heat, that can be turned off separately. A-ha!) and a promise to be there, with the handyman, on Monday. Meantime, we’ll just use the other, smaller bathroom.

Our First Outing

Google shows us where to find a ‘home goods’ store and we set out with our foldable wagon to acquire a couple of chairs and a table for our balcony. I’ve measured and planned and ordered stuff from around the area to furnish the apartment, but most of it won’t arrive til next week and we kinda need a place to sit now.

We stroll past the local Portugal League football (soccer) stadium, and a huge, gorgeous park, and finally the 15^th-century monastery, the first known example of Manueline architecture. The store is on the next block. We pack our table and chairs into the wagon, and arrange to have a kitchen table and chairs delivered. Just as we are ready to step out the door, Bernie decides he’s feeling a bit off, and sits down for a minute. I turn around in time to catch his shoulders as he passes out.

Ivonne, the store’s apparent lead, calls the medics and, having heard me attempt to speak Portuguese, suggests I let her do the talking. When they arrive, she obligingly scans the QR code on Bernie’s medical info card, which quickly informs the medics of his stent and medications. (Carlos Santos, our medic, seemed to really like this idea!) Heat, travel, stress all seem to have combined to drop his blood pressure. It’s unlikely to recur, and Bernie is sheepish at all the fuss, but admits it’s best to be safe. The medics joke with us about how terrible the local soccer team is, look to me to promise that if it should happen again I will get him immediately to the hospital (taking time to reassure us of how helpful and supportive the hospital is) and phone back to their central authority to obtain confirmation of our decision not to transport him now. Once authorized, they have Bernie sign a document indicating that he’s choosing not to be seen, and wish us well. Carlos clearly concurs with our assessment: random moment, nothing to see here – but does so without minimizing and affirms the decision to call them.  He and his partner were warm and personable throughout. Later that night, Ivonne messages me on WhatsApp to ask how Bernie is doing, and to let us know that she doesn’t live far from us – we should call if we need anything…

We’ve discovered a few missing essentials (like soap and dish soap) so I run off to Continente – we’ve already been to Lidl, now time to see how far away the next competitor is!  After a brief discussion, we leave the working phone with Bernie, and remind him of the emergency number (112, not 911!).

We try sleeping in our loungy balcony chairs but that totally doesn’t work – the chairs are comfy for sitting but not designed for snoozing. The cold, hard wood floor makes the second night unrestful despite having heat.

Taking Care of Business

The Alegro mall is closer than it seems on the map.  It’s a quick stroll, and with Carolina’s help we rapidly have our internet in order (the installer will come tomorrow!), and I acquire a new phone. Alegro also has an Auchan (like a WalMart Super Center) which yields an air mattress with pump included. After two nights of sleeping on a hardwood floor, I have never loved a $40 air mattress more.

We have lunch at the mall, walking up to a place with an Orange Julius vibe, but which sells fresh salads and sandwiches. Our meal – like all the ‘fast food’ meals in the area – is served on porcelain plates with drinks in heavy glasses.  I try to set my phone up – but the new telephone wants to walk through all of its stuff, too, so I tuck the sim safely into my purse, discarding the remnants of the plastic ‘credit card’ it shipped in. Once home, I set out to finish setting up my phone and discover that the  plastic card had the magic PIN I need to do so.  I set up Bernie’s phone, update our numbers in our contacts online so they will synch, then walk back to Alegro where a customer service agent is able to retrieve the info for me.  Bernie stays home to mop the floors, which are amazingly dirty. 😊

I was going to call Bernie when I got my phone set up – but once it was set up I realized: new phone. My contacts aren’t synched here- and I don’t have my password manager and authenticator app so I can’t even login to do so.  Once home, I set it all up and start messaging folks to tell them we’ve arrived safely.

On Monday, the NOS installer spends almost 2 hours getting our internet activated. He had to phone a friend and used coax instead of the fiber hanging out of the wall. Whatevs – we have internet now. Augusto and his handyman arrive and we find that the last tenant shut off the cold water valve to address a leak in the faucet, and just didn’t bother to mention it. The water on the floor is from the bathtub’s overflow valve, which gets cleaned and re-sealed as well.

While the handyman works, we chat with Augusto about the state of the world and find that we’re aligned in many of our views – except he is less cynical than I am. Every time we speak, we like him better. He seems a very sincere man who wants to be a good landlord.

Taking Care of Business – In Portuguese

Bernie and I both wake too early on Tuesday, not yet adjusted to the time zone. But there’s no time for napping this morning, as we are off to locate the Junta de Freguesia (parish council) to apply for a document that confirms our residency. We leave early, miss turns and take wrong directions but generally use the time to explore the neighborhood. We arrive ten minutes before they open.  Precisely at nine, a group of women arrives and bang upon the door – co-workers who have walked or gotten off the bus together. A moment after they are admitted, one of them turns the sign on the door around.

We look up the word on the sign. It’s not “open” but “push.” In the US, fire code requires that exterior doors open outward but in Portugal they all seem to open inward. I fought with the exit door to our apartment building for some time before figuring that out.

Andrea speaks no English but I have prepared well and have the right things, so am able to puzzle out which she is asking me for. She exercises the “phone a friend” option a couple of times to have her coworker tell us that (a) one of the utility companies has cut off our address, so she needs to understand if it is “2D” or “2DT(O)”, and once to tell us that there is a cost (we knew this) for the application and it is 4 euros 65 each. She asks if we want both names on one atestado, but we decide it’s best for each of us to have our own – but sweet of her to try to save us 5 euros!

I turn to my translator app twice – but only once in relation to the application process. The other one is to look up a phrase so I can tell Bernie “and now my key Portuguese phrase is gonna have to be “be patient with us, we’re still learning Portuguese. But we get better every day”. Andrea laughs and our entire interaction is genial. In the end, we get through it all just fine. The documents now have to be signed by the president of the Parish council, so we’ll come back on Thursday morning to pick them up. While there, we pick up a brochure of Independence celebration stuff happening in Setubal, all year.

We’ve scouted the route to the nearest branch of our bank, with a laundromat along the way. We don’t see the laundromat but get to the bank and sit down with a banker to update our address and phone number and request debit cards (they don’t seem to send them to overseas addresses, so we’ve had to wait til we got in country). I had been told we’ll need to go to the main branch on Avenida Luisa Todi (“Downtown”)  but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Sandra updates our addresses based on the provided utility bills, and both of our phone numbers. Once she’s certain the address change has gone through, she adds the request for debit cards. These are not issued at the bank, but sent by mail. PINs are then mailed separately, and cards activated. To save us time, she hands us the PIN documents – as soon as the cards arrive, we can activate them in our bank app and be good to go.  In the meantime, Sandra lets us know, if we need cash, we can use the first ATM in her lobby by entering our web site credentials! She apologizes repeatedly for her English, which is excellent, and we finally tell her that we’re in Portugal – it is we who are sorry that our Portuguese is not yet up to this task, and we appreciate her help!

Then we trace our steps back a bit and locate the laundromat, tucked into a shady nook at the end of the row. There’s a vending machine for coffee, but not laundry supplies, so we go home by way of Lidl and pick up some laundry soap. Once home, it’s “divide and conquer”. Puppy and I head off to find the pet store and Bernie tosses the laundry bag into our foldable wagon and heads to the laundromat.

The store turns out to be a little grooming shop that also sells quality food, operated by two ladies – friends or sisters. Susanna and Rita are wonderful!  Susanna pauses grooming a little doggo to fuss over Angel and Rita fusses over him constantly.  We buy a 4kg bag of food to see if His Majesty will deign to eat the kibble (and because the 10 kilo bag is a bit much to carry home – all good as my airtight container isn’t here yet so a small bag means the kibble won’t go stale). Responding to my skeptical glance at the huge bag, Rita volunteers that they deliver for free.  I take their card – Rita tells me just to call to order! – but realizing that might be harder without visual cues, I ask if they have WhatsApp. They don’t. When I explain that I can use my translate app with that, Rita brightens and Susanna gives me her WA contact.  Everywhere today, Portuguese people seem to be apologizing to me for THEIR English, when it is I who have come to their space.

Bernie returns from the laundromat and tells me it seems the machines add their own soap and even fabric softener (you can clearly smell it on the clothes). We hang a few things on the line, that didn’t get completely dry, and the breeze finishes the job in short order. Three pairs of jeans become our experimental case for the dryer in our apartment.

I pop over to the vet two buildings away to see about getting Angel an introductory appointment, so he can be registered in the central database and establish a relationship with the dog-tor. The lady at the front desk asks me when, and I tell her I am happy to work with whatever is available. He goes tomorrow at 3:00.

The Little Things

The bank calls – central office, confirming our account changes and debit card requests.  He asks for my NIF and I rush to my computer to get it. I am reminded once again that these floors are slick!  This is the second time I have fallen – this time I knock the back of my head on the tile floor. Once I’m done with the phone call, I add non-slip house slippers to my amazon shopping list.

And since I have been craving pizza ever since someone mentioned it the other day, we decide tonight is the night we learn to order pizza. The delivery guy is mystified and slightly offended looking when I try to tell him to keep the change. He does not. Lesson learned. I knew American tipping culture was not the thing, and studied up on taxi drivers, restaurants etc, but had assumed a delivery person might be different. So much for my American assumptions.

The kitchen table and chairs arrive just as we finish wolfing down pizza

Finally, we learn some lessons about deliveries. Our apartment building’s mailboxes do not have any large-package boxes and there is no package drop that we can see. What we learn is:

• We get email from vendors to us when things ship and even amazon does not actually bill until the item is on its way.  Order ten things and get anywhere from one to ten hits on your credit card. Confirmation emails generally include the specific item link so you know what’s shipped. These messages also give a delivery date/range prediction.
• If mail comes via CTT (the postal service), we get a text message with a numeric PIN. The person who delivers our package enters that PIN in the system and when it matches, we get our package and it’s recorded as delivered.
• If it comes vis DPD (kinda UPS/FedEx), we get an alphanumeric PIN.
• If it comes from Amazon Germany (for electrical stuff, since the Germans use the same type of plugs) or Spain (for basically everything else, since it’s closest and there is no Amazon Portugal), the courier asks for the NIF of the person who ordered it. (a fiscal ID similar to a US social security number, but used freely in transactions. Recording your NIF means the tax info is automatically reported to the central tax authority and simplifies taxes and deductions by having the info right there on the portal when you do your taxes).

And everyone tries only twice – after that, the package gets returned!  It makes me wonder about how many households have someone at home during the day. My first assumption is that maybe Portugal just isn’t much of am online kind of country – there are definitely still places here that don’t take a card, for example. But that doesn’t fit. I’ve been able to freely order online and the experience is better than the US in multiple ways, so clearly it’s a thing. I’m not sure how they balance it but I know what we’re doing: since my name is on the orders, I’m on “package receiving duty” until everything arrives. Bernie does the errands and pops out to the grocery as needed, while I stay home, where I can answer the entry phone when it rings and provide PINs and NIFs as required.

By the end of our first week, the apartment is no longer totally empty. There’s a modem in the living room, an air mattress in the bedroom, a table in the kitchen and, finally, a desk in Bernie’s office. Our washing machine and microwave arrive, and it’s getting downright livable.  Puppy has met his vet (and we love her!) and acquired a Leishmanasis vaccination. Next week will be a rush of furniture and ‘stuff’, at which point it will start to get ‘comfortable’ – just in time to decide whether to brave the train to Lisbon for the Independence Day parade, or stick to our local area here in Setubal. Meantime, I see that at least I won’t be bored while I sit home – I have over 200 emails to catch up on!