Recently we wrote about the process we used to select Portugal as our home. Our reasons were long - and varied. It got us wondering - how did Portugal work out?
In St. Louis we had dear friends who decided to move to Iowa. They wanted to retire to a small town in the Midwest, and figured why not move there now and spend time building a community? They made a list of what matters to them and spent the next nearly 2 years visiting different places till they found one that fit. And then off they went. We were talking to them one day in their lovely home in Iowa and it sparked a conversation that we have done yearly for the past 10+ years. We call it Big Rocks. We even have a notebook called the Big Rocks notebook that keeps each year’s discussion.
Every year, the biggest rock of all, for both of us, is community. So when we said in our recent post that community is important to us, this is something of long-standing.
Let us back up a bit. We both grew up in Connecticut. We married there - in Amy’s mother’s yard - and bought the perfect home. In a perfect neighborhood - a huge historic district. We had great neighbors and fabulous friends. It’s just that we decided to move. So at about age 40 we ended up in St. Louis. And quickly discovered friends and neighbors on an order of magnitude much deeper and more meaningful than we’d ever dreamed of.
Given that this is the - not a, but the - bedrock issue for us, how is Portugal working out?
Wow. For our first party we sent out invitations to 18 people. Our apartment was tiny but we figured we would ended up with a nice group from whoever RSVP’d yes.
Y’all, they all came.
We have friends from:
a board gaming Meetup group
this blog
people we bump into - a Portuguese tutor and her friend and her other friend, our dog sitter, ……
and Amy hasn’t even talked Scott into the swing dance meet up yet!
One of the reasons we were so happy with our new apartment is it has a good-sized, flexible front room. We can easily fit 18 people in it. But our invitation list has grown to the point where we run the risk of not having room for everyone we invite.
And it’s not just quantity. We’ve found people who are true family. We are blessed, we know we are blessed, and we are so grateful.
As we’d talked about, our priority was community. How do our other measures stack up?
How goes the escape from being mired in US politics and the miasma of hate and anxiety that were prevalent in our day to day lives? Quite well, thank you. A bit of a remove, physically and mentally, makes you realize the US isn’t the only country out there, and reduces the do-or-die anxiety we felt in US politics. That’s not to say we don’t follow what’s going on. We still vote and voice our opinion to our representatives as appropriate. But being outside the bubble of the United States has created a wholesale shift in our perspective. Add to that that many of the people we have in our lives don’t talk about US politics - they may never have been to the US - and the amount we care desperately has gone down a notch. Or three.
This plays out in many unexpected ways. We were never people who were all that concerned about safety. Here, though, the lack of concern about safety (for our stuff, for our personal safety, for safety as a woman) makes us realize we were a lot more uneasy than we knew. We haven’t seen or heard of a single mask protest. If the government says to wear a mask in public places,1 the vast majority of people do. As far as a general atmosphere of tension, it’s just not here in the same way.
Which is not say that all here is perfect politically. It most certainly is not. Even with our shaky grasp of the language, it’s hard to miss the footage and stories of tens of thousands of striking workers - teachers, doctors, railway personnel, to name but a few sectors - across the country. Rarely does a week go by without news of another group planning to or embarking on a strike. We expect to learn more about how and why that all works as we integrate more into the culture and language. Still, though, there doesn’t appear to be a significant minority of people hellbent on overthrowing, undermining, or otherwise destabilizing the government and while people complain, there’s no undertone of violence to it.
As far as the climate, it’s perfect. Except for the rainy season. Yes, the damp and chill is not fun, nor are the monsoon-like rains. Last year the rainy season started in mid-October and wound up the end of February. It was tolerable except for three two-week visits of non-stop rain. And really the intensity was November and December. This week the rainy season may have started with the beginning of September. It has been muggy and not that warm with on and off showers since the first few days of the month. We’re interested to see what the rest of the season brings.
If we were to live in poorly insulated and poorly conditioned spaces, it would be not tolerable, at least to the Princess-and-the-Pea one of us. Fortunately, we made climate control a must-have in our apartments and so far it’s working out well.
Regarding climate change, we’ve been pleased to not hear about climate deniers here. Portugal has recently stepped up its law phasing out coal. Like the US, Portugal is ending its fossil fuel subsidies, but the US’s commitment is an Executive Order by President Biden, whereas Portugal’s is a law. To us, Portugal’s commitment feels more secure. There are no coal plants in Portugal, the US is around 221.
Cost of living is a hard one to suss out. An overview of our expenditures will be coming up at some point and help put some numbers to what is, in part, subjective. As we’ve said before, we moved from the Midwest. If we had moved from one of the coasts, we’re sure we would consider costs here to be delightful. But they seem pretty comparable to our expenses in St. Louis.
The one main difference is the costs of health care. We’re paying for medium level health insurance. For the two of us, it’s 220€ a month. They didn’t cover anything that was pre-existing for the first year. After that, they will cover everything, which is why we chose them. They have been hard to work with. We expect many of our claims to be dealt with differently now that we’ve finally hit the one-year mark. 2
For specialist claims that are not pre-existing, we’re paying between 17-37€. For an ECG, we paid 12.47€. A colonoscopy was 45€. But for a colonoscopy that wasn’t coded correctly by the doctor, we had to pay 1,055€. We can’t imagine what we would have been charged for a colonoscopy back in St. Louis if we hadn’t had insurance.
What about the quality of that healthcare? That was also a main driver in which country we chose. When we moved to St. Louis from Connecticut, it took us about 7 years to become comfortable with the providers we found. We’ve been here a year and it’s a mixed bag. We’ve run into terrible doctors. We’ve been fortunate enough to find the best doctors imaginable. In particular, Amy’s TMJ doctor is beyond amazing, and tops in his field. So far we have this doctor, a podiatrist, and an endocrinologist (dubbed Dr. Amazing by Amy and a friend of hers who also sees him) who are The Best. A good gastroenterologist brings up the rear. As for the public/private system, it’s still somewhat confusing. We’re getting there.
One other major factor in our move was Josie, of course. And it sure seems as though she loves it here. With both people and food awaiting her at every turn, she’s in puppy heaven.
That’s all for now.
Love from Lisbon,
Amy & Scott
This applies more to our first six months. We haven’t seen much in the way of mask wearing orders or suggestions since.
We strongly advise getting health insurance as early as possible, if you’re planning a move here. It’s worth paying for it even before you arrive so you can reduce any waiting periods built into the policy.
I saw what you did there; the gastroenterologist brings up the rear? Very clever!!
Love this post. And I especially appreciate the fact that you're no longer mired in the anxiety of US politics. Something that is hard to imagine when you're still living in the US- there is SO much anxiety, and frankly, downright horror at times, that it's very hard to imagine what it feels like not to have that heavy weight floating around with you. Or how it must feel to know healthcare will be reasonable and affordable vs potentially catastrophic. I can catch a glimmer of what this must feel like thru your post- and I needed it. Thanks!