Settling In

Our second day in Portugal went more smoothly.  We had arrived with hardly anything, no kitchen utensils or cookware, no bathroom supplies, and perhaps most importantly, no espresso machine.  (Pat says "ick!")  It was clearly time for some serious shopping.

We also needed to rent a car.  There was a place within walking distance called Europcar, so off we went.  It was located somewhere in a shopping mall called El Corte Inglés, which sounds suspiciously Spanish, but on the map it was clear we wouldn't be crossing the border.

We thought Europcar was on the second floor of El Corte Inglés, so we went straight in.  Holy cow, it looked like we were in a souped-up designer section in Macy's!  Gucci, Ralph Lauren, Rolex, Armani, Dior, Chanel, as far as the eye could see, acres of high-end designer products.  We wandered around like star-struck teenagers, and began ascending the six-floor building on the escalators to check it out.  Floor after floor of beautiful high-quality consumer products from all over the world: fashion, electronics, TVs, housewares, beachwear, outdoor gear, on and on.  It was like a huge mall all stacked up on six floors.

It turned out that El Corte Inglés is indeed a Spanish department store and there are two branches in Portugal, one in Lisbon and the other about three blocks away from our apartment.  What a find!

After locating the car rental place which was actually on the minus-2 floor (two floors underground), and renting a very nice little hybrid Toyota Yaris from a helpful and efficient agent, we went back upstairs to start spending some serious money.  We brought two shopping carts with us and filled up on dishware, pots and pans, organizers, towels, a TV, glassware, yada yada, and the obligatory espresso machine (Pat still says "ick", but she got a nice tea kettle too).

The clerks were uniformly excellent.  They were well dressed in suits for the gentlemen and dresses for the ladies, there was always a reasonably competent English speaker nearby (although we did try to inject some Portuguese), and they were conspicuously not pushy, just available.  They were friendly, calm, energetic, and polite.  They wrapped our dishes and glassware in paper where appropriate, and watched our carts for us when we left for lunch.  Shopping as it should be, in other words.

Lunch was lovely in the elegant restaurant on the top floor.  We both had lightly battered white fish, moist and delicious, with a side dish of rice, red beans, and herbs, and a half-bottle of vinho verde, all for €39 total.  Not dirt cheap, but better than what we're used to.

Back downstairs we spent a few more hours wrapping up our shopping frenzy, checked out, and took the haul to the basement and into the trunk of our new car.  There was a cafeteria and supermarket one floor up, where we had a quick dinner and did some final grocery shopping.  Gerrit took a wrong turn onto the freeway on the way home so we did a little inadvertent exploration of Porto, but Google Maps guided us gently back.

The next day we took a little breather.  There was a lot to do around the apartment with all our new booty, and we were worn out from our efforts yesterday.  We did take a walk to the Lidl variety store for a few more groceries and supplies.  We also got caught up on the big backlog of our Portuguese lessons, which had been backing up for three days.

We also tried out our new cookware and dishes that evening, making pork chops and salad, and enjoying some startlingly good €4 Portuguese wine.  We had been buying special "Duroc" pork back in the US, a derivative of an Iberian pork, but here it's just what you get in the supermarket.  Delicious!  Tastes like pork used to.

And that brings us up to today.  We got back to our morning Portuguese lesson routine, and then headed back to consumer nirvana at El Corte Inglés.  We bought another shopping cart overflowing with mostly household goods, and learned a bit more about this wonderful store.  There is a fully stocked hardware store in the basement for example.  We had another excellent lunch in the store restaurant, this time camarões (shrimp) for Pat and bacalhau (dried salt cod) for Gerrit.  Both were excellent.  

Bacalhau has kind of an eye-rolling reputation as a puzzling Portuguese favorite.  It comes from a centuries-old relationship with Norwegian traders, who had plenty of salt cod which they traded for Portuguese goods.  The Portuguese developed a taste for it, and despite the ocean full of fresh fish in the Atlantic Ocean next door, dried salt cod from Norway became a favorite.  You have to soak it for days to reconstitute and desalinate it, and there are apparently over 1000 recipes for it.  Gerrit's lunch was a fairly simple recipe, and he was amazed at how good it was.  It is definitely cod, but it has a slightly chewy, stringy texture like braised beef.  He thinks he must be part Portuguese.

Again we staggered through the afternoon finishing up our shopping, hauled the loot to the car, and did a final run through the supermercado (supermarket.  What, you knew that?) before heading home and beginning to unload.

So far, after all of three days here, we have seen nothing but kindness and friendliness in the people, deliciousness in the food and wine (well, maybe with the exception of that KFC desperation dinner), and beauty, style, and functionality in our apartment.  We are beginning to pick up the language better.  It is helpful to see all the signage, have to figure out the labels, and to dredge up our beginner's Portuguese when talking with a non-English Portuguese.  That's the best, actually -- we are forced to use Portuguese and sign language, and they are patient because their English is pretty weak too.  The Portuguese seem to like it when we try to speak their language, and who can blame them?  They often light up when we use a phrase understandably.  We think we'll be conversational before very long.

The Portuguese are very considerate and thoughtful to families, old folks, and the infirm.  They are constantly helping us, holding elevators, gesturing us ahead, and giving us places in line when they see our canes.  It's quite heartwarming.

And the shopping carts!  All four wheels swivel, which makes them so easy to control and steer.  Why do they fix the back two wheels in the US?  It's way more awkward.  Also, there is a moving ramp from the El Corte Inglés supermercado to the parking garage which has standard escalator-like grooves in it.  But the shopping cart wheels have matching grooves, so when you push the cart onto the ramp it settles into the grooves and doesn't move.  You can even let go as you descend the ramp and it doesn't roll away.  Brilliant!

There is no curbside garbage/recycle in our neighborhood though.  It means no noisy garbage trucks thundering through once a week, but we do need to tote our garbage and recycling to some discreet-looking mushroom shaped dumpsters about a half block away.  It will just be part of going grocery shopping.

The milk is labeled "magro" and "gordo" (thin and fat) instead of the rather delicate "skim" and "whole" in the US.  Hah!  It's fun to see how different cultures handle things you just take for granted.

(As usual, you can click on any photo to enlarge it, scroll through them all, and click in the black outside a photo when you're done.)

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We Made It!

Apologies that this update has taken several days!  We have been unbelievably busy (and jet lagged), but this post is probably the most important of all to get out quickly.  TLDR: yes, we are safely in Portugal in our new apartment!  

Click on the photos below to enlarge and scroll through them, then click in the black outside a photo when you're done.

Our last days at the Extended Stay in Mukilteo were busy with final packing and purging, trips to our storage unit and bringing boxes of stuff to Cindy and Jeff, our friends/family and gracious stuff absorbers.  Finally Departure Day arrived on June 25.  We checked out from our room, said fond goodbyes to the staff who had taken such good care of us for over a year, loaded up the rental SUV with our last belongings, and headed to the airport. 

Our trip to Portugal was to entail a 6:05 PM flight to Amsterdam, 10 hours long, a one-hour layover, and a two hour flight from there to Porto.  We were to arrive there at 3:40 PM on June 26, the following day, just about right to stagger around for a while and collapse into bed.

We had four good sized suitcases and four carry-on items, which we bore like pack animals into the Delta terminal.  The agent there was kind to us and overlooked three slightly overweight bags.  We still paid a premium for the extra bags, but we made it through security and to the gate with plenty of time.

The flight out of Seattle was beautiful, on a huge Airbus A300-900 with clear early summer weather and lovely views of the mountains and sound. 

But mamas, teach your babies not to wear excessive cologne on airplanes.  Whew – somebody within a few rows was emitting fumes enough to make your eyes water and your sinuses burn.

The flight to Amsterdam was, well, miserable.  The plane and attendants did everything right, the food was good, but Gerrit couldn’t distract himself with movies because the ear buds didn’t work for him, and neither he nor Pat could get anywhere near comfortable.  No sleep for these two.  The sunset/sunrise was spectacular though.

Our connection at Amsterdam was short, so we hustled off the plane.  There was only one reader board in the arrivals area, though, and the one panel which had our Porto flight on it was out of service so we had no idea what gate it was on.  Off we trudged with our cumbersome carry-ons to an information kiosk.

...where we learned that our flight had been CANCELLED!!  Looked like there would be a slight change of plans.  We rescheduled to the next available flight, tomorrow morning.  Delta made good by providing us with a nice hotel room and meal vouchers, so we caught the shuttle to the Corendon hotel and checked into a nice room.  Dinner was a buffet with loads of delicious options (and wine on tap).  Finally, quite exhausted and unable to keep our eyes open any longer, we tumbled into bed at about 8:30 local time.  We’d been up for close to 30 hours.

We had to get going at 4:45 the following morning though.  Back to the airport we shuttled, trudged I’m sure at least 15 miles to our gate (which was literally the farthest point in the airport from check-in), and rested our throbbing ankles till the flight.

Everyone we had met in Amsterdam was kind, patient, and helpful.  This included airline attendants, security personnel, hotel employees, and restaurant workers.  They spoke immaculate English and really did their best to understand and help us with a smile.  (Full disclosure: Gerrit is a quarter Dutch.)

The flight to Porto was uneventful, although our departure was an hour late.  We had two delightful children with different families in adjacent seats: a baby and a young girl.  Both were well behaved and well attended by their parents, excellent little fellow travelers (and cute).

And then we landed on Portuguese soil!  We wished each other bem vindo (welcome), and off we went to our new lives.

We met our prearranged ride after some confusion.  He was crabby that the flight was delayed and then scolded us for too much baggage (although it fit just fine in his compact SUV and was just what we had signed up for).  Off he raced through the parking garage, giving us a taste of the infamous Portuguese driving.  He cooled off shortly though, and we had a nice chat on the way to the apartment.  Gerrit tried a little bit of Portuguese, and the driver asked, “so, you know a little Spanish then?”  Well, his English wasn't so great either.

Our landlord’s father met us at the apartment and showed us around.  Gerrit’s Portuguese was a little more successful this time, but still elicited many blank looks and confusion.  The apartment was beautiful, just like the pictures, and after bidding our host obrigado, bom dia (thank you, good day) we began to unpack.

Later we walked to the local Lidl variety store, which had some decent groceries and some of the supplies we needed.  We finished some more unpacking and storing, and made the bed with linens Pat had ordered a couple weeks ago to be delivered here.

Sore and tired, we wanted to try the only local restaurant within walking distance.  We headed up the hill to O Parolo (The Fool), and found a dusty little place, empty except for the proprietor.  Gerrit tried out the phrase he’d been rehearsing for days: “Boa tarde!  Só falo um pocou de português.”  (Good afternoon!  I only know a little Portuguese.)

Blank look.

Then, “Este é nossos primeira dia em portugal.” (This is our first day in Portugal.)

Blank look, some mumbling.

Gerrit was getting desperate.  He pulled out his cell phone translator and spoke English into it, “Today is our first day in Portugal.”  Up popped the exact Portuguese sentence he’d just spoken, and he showed it to the proprietor.  The proprietor squinted, tipped the phone up and down, and pretty clearly didn’t get it at all.

Then came some confused hand waving and about a 10% understanding level on both sides, and finally it dawned on us that his kitchen wasn’t working.  Or the chef was out.  Or he no longer served food.  Something like that.

Relieved to be getting out of there yet still hungry, we said goodbye (which we’re not sure got through) and left back down the hill.  There were no other restaurants or cafés open within trudging distance, so we shamefacedly stopped at a KFC on the way back.  That’s right, the American fast-food joint which has spread all over the world including a block away from our apartment.

At least here the young man sort of seemed to understand what we wanted, and we left with some chicken.  Back home we put together a pathetic first dinner in Portugal with KFC, local Douro valley wine, and vegetables.  Well, the wine and vegetables were excellent anyway!

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Preparing to Fly

The last post saw us about a month away from our departure date.  We have been busy since then!  

We sold the truck to a local Toyota dealer in a pleasant transaction and got a good price.  We rented an SUV so we could do the hauling we need, also to make our final trip with luggage to SeaTac airport on departure day.  Then we'll leave the rental car there.

We packed up things to go into long term storage and made a trip to the storage unit.  We will make one more trip to storage before we leave.  Also we have been giving things to friends and donating to charity, stripping our little hotel room bare.

We bought new luggage, two each of the largest allowable standard size for the airline, so four good-sized cases altogether.  We did a trial run packing up the luggage and found that we can get what we need in there, enough to get us through a couple weeks at least.  Right now we are entering the narrowest part of our belongings bottleneck: we are down to the minimum, just what we can cram into our luggage and carry-ons.  We will begin to build up a household again when we have arrived in Portugal, and will of course ship our storage items to our new home eventually.

We got our COVID and RSV vaccinations.  There isn't a published requirement for these to enter Portugal, but it was about time for us to get them anyway and we may in fact have to show proof.

Two days ago our departure date was a week away.  Gerrit had been sending notes to the Portuguese embassy every few days (the only way to contact them) for weeks, reminding them of our departure date, and receiving noncommittal and form letter replies.  Now, with a week to go, they told us our new estimated date for issuing the visa was JULY 22, five weeks away!  They were pushing out the 3-1/2 months they had already taken by yet another month!

We were stunned.  We had almost nothing left, everything was packed, stored, or gotten rid of.  How could we sit in this empty place, living out of suitcases for another month?

We tried to think of a way we could get to Portugal with our current airline tickets, so we could start living in the apartment we'd been renting since March.  We wanted to get to know the neighborhood, start to buy supplies, practice our Portuguese a bit, do some touring, and avoid this double rent we'd been paying.  The embassy had our passports though, so we couldn't travel.  But our immigration consultant mentioned that sometimes people get a second passport in cases like this.  Pat started checking into it, and it looked like that might work.

We gathered documents, had photos taken, and filled out forms yesterday, then this morning we had our appointment with the State Department downtown.  All went well, and after an hour or so our expedited passports were in the queue, to be ready by Monday.  ONE DAY before the plane flight!

We will probably need to return to the US to pick up our original passports and new visas when they are ready.  That will have to be within the 90 days allowable on our second-passport tourist visas.  There may also be a way to deliver them by courier to us in Portugal.  We have probably a month to figure that out before the visas are issued.

It's now only four days before Departure Day.  Four busy days of packing and last-minute prep!

(photo credit VisaNation)

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