Back to Porto, Moving In

Wow, it’s almost a month since my last post from Figueira da Foz. A lot and not much has happened. I came back to Porto on Saturday, October 1, the day I was told I would be given keys to my apartment, even though the contract was not yet signed.

There was still a lot to do for completion of the building construction. The elevator was not in service. The apartment was coated top to bottom with construction dust. As darkness fell, I discovered I had no electricity. Fortunately, I always carry a flashlight. I camped on a sleeping pad that night. On Sunday, I was lucky to find a reasonable Airbnb just a block away and moved in for a few days until they got the power on. They never did clean the apartment, so that was one of my first tasks.

I made my first, and I hope last, trip to an Ikea. It was a holiday and half of Porto seemed to be shopping there. It was overwhelming, especially since I couldn’t read much of the signage or labels. I escaped with some draperies, plates and glasses, a cooking pan, and a surprisingly comfortable small mattress in a bag that would tide me over until I got a real bed just this week.

A cold virus adopted me and I spent a week in bed, knocked out with cold medicine. Those of you who know me well, know that my chronic fatigue can set in when I get sick, so even just a cold sends me to bed to stay as quiet as possible. My podcasts and Kindle kept me entertained when I wasn’t sleeping. Just around the corner, Pedro dos Frangos (Pedro’s Chicken) serves fantastic traditional Portuguese “home cooking”, and one takeout meal can last for several days. Their caldo verde soup will be my standby any time I need some “feel better” food. Thankfully, I recovered just fine, and got back into action after a week.

The apartment contract had some mistakes, so I returned it with a request for a corrected document. That was three weeks ago, and I’m still waiting. In effect, I’m squatting in a nice new space for free, until the contract is signed and I send the money.

On Monday I opened a local bank account after submitting a slew of documents that included everything but my ACT scores from 50 years ago. The banker said they could either mail my new debit card to my US address for free, or I could pick it up at a local branch for $15. He grinned at the confused look on my face and said, “I don’t know, it’s just what they do.” I also opened a local phone account, which had the usual new phone account puzzles to figure out, only in Portuguese. All of this is to say, one just has to go with the flow when you choose to navigate life in another country.

My Office

Without Wi-Fi in my apartment – or a table – I have established several office locations in coffee shops with free Wi-Fi. My favorite is Esquires. The proprietor, Fernando, has traveled extensively and makes everyone feel welcomed. His team is sharp, with a good sense of humor, and it has sort of an international Cheers atmosphere. It’s Sunday morning and the place is filled to overflowing. I hear a cacophony of Portuguese, Spanish, British, French, and German being spoken. My preferred table is next to the counter where I get to eavesdrop on all the conversations when people order. Fernando always asks them where they are from, and he can often reply, “Oh yes, I visited there.”

So somehow, October has been a blur. Weather has been great, but this week there was no denying that summer is gone for good. There are sharp, gusty breezes and scattered rain showers with little bursts of hard rain. Umbrellas are jousting on the streets. Temperatures have drifted from low 70’s to 60’s in the day, and 50’s at night. I’m wearing sweaters for the first time.

I’ve had multiple encounters with Americans, either traveling or moving here. It always results in fun conversations, learning each other’s stories. Yesterday I took a Bolt (local version of Uber) to a furniture store. My driver, Muhammed, was from Pakistan. He is very well educated, but when he arrived, he spoke no Portuguese and could not get a job. He worked picking olives and oranges, living in containers and the woods. He made his way to Porto and got a job as a dishwasher. He saved enough to become a Bolt driver. He saw opportunities to import special food goods from Pakistan and is working to get the right EU certifications to import pink salt, which is not seen here. Step by step, he is carving out a life, while sending funds back home to his brother and sister so they can finish college. Once he gets his citizenship in two years, they will come here to join him. It seems like Portugal is the new melting pot for the world.

US Plans Update

I thought I could come back to Porto, get the lease signed and open a bank account within a week. Then I would scoot back to the US to begin phase 2 of the visa application process. Ha. I failed to appreciate the casual pace of things. Timelines from the mind of a marketing strategist who worked against tight deadlines for decades are now an amusing cartoon. I am scheduled to return to St. Louis on November 8, and I’ll figure out my plans from there.

_{The featured image at the top of this blog is a night scene across the street from my apartment.}

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_{For Portuguese natives and experts, please forgive any inaccuracies in history or facts in these blogs. I am a rank student beginner, with optimism that as I learn, I’ll improve.}