Give Me Visa Approval or Give me Death!

( I’m pretty sure that death would be quicker and less painful!)

Well, it’s the end of December, and as everyone says to me lately, you’re still here… yup, we are still here in beautiful BFE, USA.  Ok, not so beautiful when the high probably won’t crack 20 degrees tomorrow.  Not to mention the government shutdown due to mango unchained and his hare-brained ideas.  I was hoping to be gone by October and here we are staring down the barrel of January 2019.

Let’s recap, shall we?  We started the process of moving to Portugal last March 2018.  Ten months later, it feels like we are no closer to achieving that goal than we were then.  Now, a lot has happened since then. And here is my advice to anyone contemplating a move to another country:  do not believe what you read on the internet.  There, I was told that a resident visa could take anywhere from two to four weeks for approval and that Portugal was one of the easier countries to emigrate to.  A friend who resided in Lisbon for a year said that it shouldn’t take more than a month.  On December 24th (X-mas eve, bummer!) it was 90 days since we made our visa application and, we are still waiting.  (Granted, the Portuguese visa website says to apply 90 days out, and hey, it’s the Portuguese government, after all.  It could be worse, I guess, could be Spain or Italy.)  It may take more than twice as long as you think to get that resident visa approval and will certainly cost you at least twice as much as you might think.

Once again, I am reminded of Kafka’s The Trial and have started to suspect that our government idiocy isn’t helping our cause any. If only I could have done this two years ago.  That is when I decided that I wanted to relocate to another country, and it is now over two years in the making.  I could never have guessed that it would take so long.  I thought, six months, tops.  Boy, was I unclear! 

Since first submitting our online visa application in July, which got us an in-person visa application appointment in San Francisco in September, it has been almost six months.  The time disconnect between the online application and the in-person appointment (Not to mention the stress levels involved,) caused me to forget that in the email I got acknowledging my online application, was listed a site where I could check the status of my visa application.  I completely disregarded this since we weren’t there yet and wouldn’t be for a couple more months.

I woke up in the middle of the night a couple of weeks ago and thought, wait a minute, wasn’t there something about checking visa status somewhere?  After going through months of emails, I found it and the password to access the site.  Hallelujah!  Now finally, maybe I could find out something about our progress.  Here’s what it said… there are four stages in the visa application process:   Application acceptance, consideration, analyzation and finish.  Our applications have been analyzed.  Or, as I like to say:  we’ve been done, duly analyzed!  So, now we know that we are one step from our visa application process being finished.  What does that mean, exactly?  Diddly squat from where I’m sitting.  We are thisclose, apparently, although what that might mean in real-time, I have no idea.  Just as in The Trial, it seems to have no end.

My assessment of the whole process?  I think that resident visa approval to move to another country is a moving target (like trying to nail jello to a tree) that depends on timing and political climates.  Five years ago, I’m sure it would have been A LOT easier.

As a result, we are looking forward to a bleak and dismal New Year, and we are still waiting.  Ugh.  Darkness before the dawn?  I can only hope as we go on month number four of paying for two places to live, one unoccupied and where we want to be.  (Having an address in Portugal was one of the resident visa application requirements.) Let’s hope that the new year will bring good news ASAP.  In the meantime, happy new year, and I hope that we will have a happy one next year.

Thanks to Mark Baylor for reminding me to keep at it!

Hold Please continued.

Well, we survived Thanksgiving (three-alarm hangover notwithstanding).  What is it about the holidays that makes us think it’s ok to drink EVERYTHING in one night?  (Oh yeah, friends and relatives.) The turkey was even good thanks to Marczyk’s Willie bird and a prosciutto and chili rub treatment.  Thanks for an excellent meal, guys.

So, we’re going on eight weeks since our visa application and zero word from the Portuguese consulate.  If we don’t hear something SOON, and we are stuck here through X-mas, I may have a complete meltdown.  I’m not going to lie; the waiting is killing me.  Not to mention paying for two places to live, one in Gaia that is vacant.  I won’t even go into how much I hate “the holidays,” especially X-mas.  After harping for dollars for ten years, if I never hear another X-mas tune again, it will be too soon.

I hear that X-mas is big in Portugal,  and I can’t wait to try the freshly roasted chestnuts sold on street corners everywhere.  Oh, and did I mention the Bananeiro festival in Braga?  When I first started researching Portugal over a year ago, I came across the banana and Moscatel fest that happens on Christmas eve in Braga, which is about an hour north of Porto.  Banana and Moscatel festival, you say?  How wacky, let’s go!  So, I started fantasizing about going to Portugal for X-mas last year already.

X-mas banana
Merry X-mas banana. (Only in Portugal.)

The tropical fruit and wine fest is the outcome of some mad marketing by a guy who owned a banana warehouse and wanted to attract customers.  On Christmas eve a few decades ago, he offered a glass of sweet Moscatel wine to anyone who bought some bananas, and it became a thing, as they say.  And now, every year thousands of folks descend upon the banana warehouse in Braga on Christmas eve.  Just the thought of it makes me laugh, and, want to try it, banana and Moscatel, that is.  It could be a great pairing.

Meanwhile, still in government limbo hell, I realize that it’s too late to be early.  Even if our visa approval comes through this week, we are already in the middle of holiday travel season hell.  Finding a decent one-way airfare will be nearly impossible.  So, if anyone, anyone (of my three readers) knows someone with a private jet that can move us from N.Y to Lisbon once we get that pesky visa, I will throw in free accommodations with us in Portugal for life.  Keep your ears open and let me know, will ya’?  Thanks a bunch, and I will keep you posted of events as they occur.  (Here’s to hoping that events will occur SOON. Hope with me, won’t you?) We need all the help we can get.

Jiver is all decked out and ready to go with his happy santa tail. (You can see Happy Santa Tail on You Tube or Instragram.)

Jiver is all decked out and ready to go with his happy santa tail.

Hold, please.

After our visa appointment in San Francisco and some breakfast, we headed back to the airport.  Joe flew back to Denver, and I went on to L.A. to see family there.

I texted our realtor in Portugal and asked if he would be willing to be our reference, and he responded that he would be glad to.  It’s a good thing that he agreed to help us, once again, since we don’t know anyone else over there!  Thank you, Rui Castro!  You are our hero!

It was fun to catch up with friends and family and be reminded of why I wouldn’t want to live in L.A. again.  An hour to get from the west side to the valley during rush hour.  Really, it takes an hour to get just about anywhere in a car in L.A.   Pass on that action.  At least, the weather was nice.  The wining and dining were great, and it was a nice distraction from knowing that we would be stuck in the US for at least another probably eight weeks.

I was warned about the snail’s pace of government bureaucracy in Portugal but, when I returned to Denver and FedExed the last documents to the consulate, I tried to email them as well.  All emails have been returned as undeliverable.  There is a phone number on the website that states that the Portuguese consulate is currently not taking phone calls or returning messages.  There was an SOS email to which I sent a note saying that I had FedExed documents to them and would they please confirm receipt of said documents.  I received a reply that my email was received and nothing else.  Ugh!  They did warn us, but the complete lack of communication is disconcerting, to say the least!

On the heels of all this, a hurricane hit Portugal on October 13th.  The first one of this magnitude to hit in 176 years!  Awesome.  Luckily, by the time it hit landfall, hurricane Leslie was downgraded to a tropical depression and did the most damage to Lisbon.  where a beachside restaurant was destroyed and the roof of a stadium blown off.  I texted our fairy Godfather, Rui, and he replied that Porto was OK, just a lot of wind and rain.  So, our place is vacant but still standing.  Hallelujah.  Thank God for small favors!

So, now we wait.  The Portuguese consulate has our passports, and I guess that is about all we can do.  That and cross our fingers and pray to God!  I’m also guessing that it will be December before we get our visas, at the rate we’re going.  And I wanted to be out of here before last summer!  Haha.  Now it looks like we will have to endure half the winter in BFE, Denver, Colorado, USA.

Here’s to hoping for a mild one courtesy of El Nino.

Our gracious host/landlord is hosting Thanksgiving and has invited us, which is so nice and, obviously, we will attend, but have I mentioned how much I hate turkey?  Why do Americans think it is so great?  Oh, never mind.  There are many things that Americans love that I don’t care for, which is one of the many reasons we have got to get out of here!  Holding.  And dreaming of Portuguese food!

Grilled cod dinner at Churrasqueira Kinay in Porto.

Buckle up and travel light.

After traveling for the better part of September, we are now about 75% of the way toward our goal of moving to Portugal.  I went solo since it was much cheaper that way, and someone had to hold down the fort and watch the Jiver, our precious soccer paws.

I spent ten days and about $1,800 for airfare, food, and Airbnb to accomplish three goals: find a place to live in Porto, get an NIF number, (which is a Portuguese tax ID number) and open a bank account.  So, here’s the thing: getting the NIF number is not easy.  You must have a reference in Portugal and if you don’t know anyone there, good luck with that!  And when I say reference, I don’t mean someone who’ll say you are OK (though you will need that too), but someone willing to be financially responsible for you should you default on anything.  What you need is a procurador fiscal or financial guarantor.  (I learned these details as I went.)

After two days of spinning my wheels, I started to freak out.  How in the hell was I going to do any of this?  Finally, I found a couple of sites online for the sale and rental of apartments.  Idealista had plenty of offerings, most of which were out of our price range. But I found a few that might work, so I sent messages asking if I could see them.  While I waited for a response regarding seeing some apartments…

I went to Santander bank, which is recommended for ex-pats, and they told me I would need the tax ID number and an address before I could open an account.  So, the next morning I went to the financial services office.  They told me that I would need a reference in Portugal and an address there before they could issue me a NIF number.  Ugh.  Frustration is my business.  I had a reference in my friend who let me use her address in Lisbon to apply for a visa online, but that was not enough.  Add to that the fact that she is moving back to the States in October, and I am now seriously S.O.L.

The funny thing was that I got words of encouragement whenever I was dejected all along the way.  After striking out at the financial services office, I went to breakfast at a place called Mesa 325.  A great place to go if you are ever in the Bonfim neighborhood of Porto.  Which is where I was staying.  There was a sign on the wall that read:  Everything is going to be OK.  EGBOK, thanks, I needed that.  And the overnight oats served with yogurt and fruit is delicious.

Over the next few days, I looked at three listings.  The first was in a neighborhood in Porto called Casa da Musica.  Which is where the concert hall of the same name is located.  I thought I like the sound of that.  I took the metro over and, sadly, the place was a dump for $850 Euros per month.  (My friend was not wrong, Porto is expensive.)

Gaia.Porto
The view from Gaia to Porto

Then, I lined up a couple of showings in Vila Nova de Gaia.  Gaia is across the Douro river from Porto.  It is where they store the port wine for aging.  It is about a fifteen-minute walk from downtown Porto and is beautiful.  The first apartment was it.  Three bedrooms, 1200 square feet, and a km from the beach for 650 Euros per month in a nice quiet neighborhood.  Now we’re talking.  The entry has wallpaper that looks like a bad 70s acid flashback, but that can easily be changed.  Otherwise, it was a good deal compared to what I had seen in Porto proper.  The Remax agent that showed it to me has become our fairy Godfather.  Since we couldn’t even sign a lease agreement legally without the NIF number, he got on the phone until he found someone who could get it for us.  He took a picture of my passport, and I got a picture of Joe’s for him, and he said we’d talk the next day.

He texted me the next morning and said, “Great news, you both now have NIF numbers.   He got the Re-max company’s attorney to agree to be our fiscal guarantor, and overnight we got our tax ID numbers.  Mind you, it will cost us 100 Euros per month until we get our permanent ID cards.  He assures me that it won’t take more than a couple of months and will help us when we get there.

The housing market is so tight in the Porto area that I had to agree to pay a year in advance and sign a three-year contract to secure the place over other applicants.  I was perfectly happy to pay a year of rent in advance.  And, having worked in real estate myself for many years, I know that everything else is negotiable, so I signed the lease agreement.  At which point, I was informed that after a year, we can renegotiate the deal.  Once I left Rui’s office, I went to Millennium BCP bank, which he recommended, and opened an account.  Armed with the NIF document and an address, I could now open an account.

Gaia.Port
White port and biscuits at Quinta de Noval Port house in Vila Nova de Gaia. (Delicious!) My reward for missions accomplished.

Now, I could return to BFE, USA, and finish preparing for our visa appointment in San Francisco.  Whew.  That was a wild ride.  Many thanks to my Airbnb hosts for guiding me, and helping me out when there was a taxi strike the day I returned to Lisbon to catch my flight back to the states!  The Portuguese people are wonderfully friendly and helpful, and I can’t wait to live there.  But we still have a long way to go.

Back to BFE, USA and points west.

Having returned from ten days in Portugal, I now had two days to finish preparing for our visa appointment in San Francisco.  I may have mentioned that BFE Denver, Colorado, does not have a Portuguese consulate. Rumor has it that it once did but, that was before my time.  So…if you want to apply for a resident visa to live in Portugal, and you live in BFE, Denver, you must go in person to the Portuguese consulate in San Francisco.  Online sites say how easy it is to move to Portugal.  These are bald-faced lies; easy it is not!

Among other things required to obtain a resident visa for Portugal are: (and they don’t mention them all on the “official” site, mind you) $3,000 per person relocating deposited in a Portuguese bank account (See the previous post on the catch 22s of opening a bank account over there!) and, ideally at least $50,000 in liquid assets, read cash, per person as well.

I also read that everything (all documents) should be in duplicate.  I compiled a list of documents, in duplicate that included all items on the Portuguese consulate’s list of required items including  letters of intent (why you want to live in Portugal, and what you plan to do while there.  I’ve also read that you had better keep it simple and doable because they judge your worthiness on how probable your statements are to actually happen).  Proof of plane tickets to Portugal and back, because you must come back to the States to renew your visa every year for the first five years.  Here’s the kicker:  how do you make plane reservations when you don’t know when the visa will be approved?  If you don’t plan to return to the city in the US you left, you can’t get round trip tickets and…then what?!  Oh, and I was also told to include birth certificates and marriage license, if applicable.

Holy mother of, can you believe it?  It is a miracle to me that anyone pulls this off.  You had better have the tenacity of ten Jack Russell terriers to get through the process.  I could not figure out what to do for plane tickets since I had heard that they are not always required.  I purchased one-way tickets to Lisbon, leaving on October 20th.    This date was a stab in the dark.  I got the travel insurance knowing I would probably have to change the date.

I was freaking out about it after my friend told me you HAVE to have a return ticket.  The night before the visa appointment, as we sat in a hotel room in Burlingame, California (S.F., by the airport), I purchased round trip tickets with random dates in September 2019 from Lisbon to L.A., Ca., and back from my, oh so smartphone.  Another two grand.  Ka-Ching.

Ok, now I felt as ready for this appointment as I was going to be.

It took the better part of an hour to get to the Portuguese consulate in San Francisco from near the airport.  (Another reminder of why we want out of BFE, USA:  Traffic hell!)  When you think of government offices, you probably think of an office building, right?  Well, the Portuguese consulate is in an old house in Presidio Heights, a residential neighborhood!  We arrived within ten minutes of our first appointment.  Joe was scheduled at ten am and I was up at ten-fifteen.  There was a couple ahead of us, and we weren’t seen until about ten-thirty, and then they took us together, contrary to what is stated online, that it is one appointment per person.  No problem.

After looking over our paperwork, we were told that our reference had to be in Portugal and that we needed a letter from them, so my friend Simone was out since she was coming back to the States in October.  FFF!  What was I going to do now?!  Oh, and take your time getting a reference letter to them because their systems were down and would be till…???  And there are 15-16 applications ahead of you.  Once our application was complete, it would be at least six weeks for visa approval.  Welcome to European government bureaucracy.  Can you say DISAPPOINTED?!  Ok, time to regroup.

And I Thought Moving Across Town was Arduous.

Now that we are “settled” into our little temporary crash pad, the real nitty-gritty work of pulling off an international move begins.  There are sites out there that tell you how easy it is to relocate to XYZ foreign country, and they can show you how.  Maybe I should have gone to their $1,000 conference in the Algarve (southern Portugal to which most ex-pats relocate).  Oh, right, I didn’t have the money then.

As usual, I am several years and a few hundred thousand dollars too late/short.  The golden ticket to moving to Portugal is buying $500,000 in property there, live there for a year, and then you get Portuguese citizenship and an EU passport.  That, of course, would be too easy.  We do plan to buy property there.  After five years of residence, we will qualify for citizenship and an EU passport.  It just takes longer, and then there is the whole visa process every year until then.

Have you ever read The Trial by Franz Kafka?  That is what it is like applying for a resident visa to live in Portugal.  (For what it’s worth, they say it is even harder to get a visa in Spain and virtually impossible in other countries.)

The process is full of catch 22s:  you must submit an application online to get an appointment to apply for the visa.  You must have an address in Portugal, and a reference there but, you must go there to get them.  You will need a residence permit but, you must be there to get one.  Ugh.  It goes on like that.  And I thought the logistics of our move across town were jacked up.

In the too late to be early department, there used to be a Portuguese consulate here in Denver.  No more.  To apply for a resident visa, if you live in Denver, you must go in person to San Francisco to apply for it.  So, it may be much cheaper to live there (in Portugal), but it will cost you to get there.

So, having achieved a visa appointment in San Francisco for the last week of September, I will start compiling the rest of the required documents in the meantime.  They include but are not limited to:  Notarized printed applications, copies of main passport pages, FBI background check, Portuguese criminal background check form, proof of health insurance, proof of income, declaration of intent (why you want to move to Portugal), reference in Portugal and passport photos (in addition to the one on your passport).  Whew.

Thank God for my new friend Simone who’s been living in Lisbon for the past year.  She let me use her address so that I could at least complete the online app to get the visa appointment.  In the fun part department, I will return to Lisbon and Porto at the beginning of September to find a place to live.

Then there is the process of getting Jiver, our dog, certified to be shipped over.  There is another set of rules about the timing of all his shots and letters of good health before we can take him.  All must be done in a specific order.  And we must fly 48 hours after completion of said shots and certs.  Happily, there is no quarantine, so we just need to make appointments at departing and arriving airports for him.  Holy moly, it’s a wonder anyone ever has the energy and persistence to leave the country.

This is Jiver. AKA Bubba, Wild Thing, Soccer Paws.

Then there is the issue of how to transport him.

I would love to find someone with a private jet who could fly us over. I hate the idea of having to shove Jiver in a box in the cargo portion of the plane. Meanwhile, back in reality. He is a nervous traveler and doesn’t do well on drugs. He was a service dog for most of his life. We inherited him when his person died two years ago. At eleven years old, he is not a spring chicken either. Dilemma.

Stateside Planning

Once we got home and recovered from jet-lag the real work of crafting our escape began.  We decided that, yes, we really needed to sell the condo and that we also needed to move somewhere more affordable.  After two weeks in Portugal, Porto became the target but, honestly, anywhere in Portugal would do. After much research, it became apparent that to get resident visas in Portugal, we needed jobs that we could take with us.  ideally, remote online work.  We would have to go to San Francisco in person to apply for visas.  This was going to take some time.  My wildly optimistic hope of moving to Europe in June was out the window.  Trusting my real estate gut instinct, I knew we needed to sell quickly, while prices were still sky high here in Denver. (Housing prices surpassed mile high in Denver a while back!) 

That said, once we sold the place, where were we going to live while we made our work and visa arrangements?  My friend Dennis to the rescue!  We have been friends for years, and I had driven carriages for him for many years as well. (Yes, horse-drawn carriages in downtown Denver.  I called it draft horse wrestling!)  Oh, and wait, he is also my hairdresser!  Conveniently enough, he has a beautiful three-story Victorian house near downtown Denver, and the third-floor apartment was available.  It was a great deal, big enough for us, and he was willing to rent to us on a month to month basis until we were ready to ship out.  Done deal!

We got back to Denver on March 5, 2018.  We listed the house for sale on May 3rd.  We had four showings, and from those came two offers.  By May 8th we were under contract, as they say here in Colorado, and the closing was set for June 15th.  The next steps:  purging and packing.  The goal is to get rid of at least 80 percent of our belongings.  We sold most of the furniture with the house, so that was a start.

We now have about six days to finish the purge and vacate the premises, as they say, and my next post will be forthcoming after we move to Capitol Hill.  We saw this sign in a wine bar in Lisbon:

Words to live by!

Here’s to re-creating ourselves and starting a new life abroad!

Back to Lisboa and the US.

After almost a week in Porto, we returned to Lisbon for a couple of days before heading back to BFE USA via Dublin and Toronto.  This time we stayed in the Alfama neighborhood.  It is famed for places to hear the traditional Portuguese Fado music.  Luckily, the first place we stayed in Porto had lots of Fado CDs, which we listened to.  As much as I wanted to hear some live Fado music, none of the bars that hosted the music commenced the festivities until 9pm.  When you are as old as we are, that is late!  It is usually lights out by 10pm for us.

Lisboa.Alfama
Alfama, Lisbon.

Alfama reminded me of Venice, Italy, without the water.  The streets are hilly and impossibly narrow.  One of the Uber drivers we hired had a minivan, and the car literally scraped the wall on one side going down the street!  It is so charming that once there, you understand why it is a must-see part of Lisbon.  One of the best restaurants of our entire time in Portugal is there:  Alfama Cellar.  They specialize in cooking with individual cast iron pots, and the dishes there will set you free!  The best was the drunken rabbit, marinated in grappa and served with roasted vegetables that conveyed flavors beyond description.  We enjoyed the food here so much that we ate there our last two nights in Lisbon.  The staff was professional and fun, and the service was outstanding.  Alfama Cellar is located at Rua dos Remedios 127-131, 1100-451 Lisboa.  Www.alfamacellar.pt.

Castelo de Sao Jorge, Lisbon.

Sadly, it was quite rainy and stormy our last two days in Lisbon, so we did not wander far from our Airbnb, which was about 30 paces from our new favorite restaurant.  We strolled around a little and visited the Castelo de Sao Jorge on our last day, which was an impressive piece of history and architecture.  Our Airbnb was tiny but efficient. The craziest thing about the building was the stairs up to an apartment above.  Well, look…

Crazy Stairs in Alfama!

If one was drunk, they would be downright dangerous, methinks!

Needless to say, we were sad to have to leave Portugal.  But now, we had a mission:  figure out how to move there!

On the way back, we once again spent a day in Dublin, Ireland.  This time we were lucky to dodge a historic snow storm that dumped 13 inches of snow on the city, shutting everything down two days before we arrived.  We watched as 13 truckloads of the white stuff were removed from the tarmac before we could deplane.  We got to our Airbnb and headed for the nearest pub.  Severe disappointment ensued; there was no Guinness to be had!  Fresh out.  While the city was immobilized for two days, everyone was at the pubs and drank the city dry!  That’s a historic event:  no Guinness in the pubs in Dublin!  Crazy, but true.  Happily, we got to have one more pint of Guinness at the airport before we left.

We arrived at Dublin airport around nine am. After getting through security, we went through the duty-free store and found that they were having a series of gin and whiskey tastings!  Ireland, what a country!  Of course, we felt duty-bound to try the local spirits.  Ireland is having a distilling renaissance, and the whiskies and gins are first-rate.  We brought home some Tyrconnell 12-year-old Madeira cask single malt whiskey.  Mmm, good!

We made it home with minimal delays and, after thinking about, it we realized that the only thing we missed while we were away:  our dog Jiva (aka Bubba).  Looks like there’s a transatlantic trip in your future little buddy!

On to Porto.

After four days in Lisbon we took the train to Porto.  We did have a little miscommunication with our cab driver, who thought we wanted to go to the aeroPORTO.  When we realized that we were almost to said airport, we told him that we wanted to take the train, trem, trem!  To Porto, muito obrigada. (Thank you very much.)

This was one of my first blunders with the language. Train, as in train station, is estação de comboio. Trem, is another word for a train.  Little did I know.

No biggie, only about 15 minutes lost there.  We stopped for um café (a coffee.  Must have coffee in the AM!) and made our way to the gate for the train to Porto.  It is about a three-hour trip on the express train which is very pleasant and comfortable.  Plenty of time for a good read, some study or, a snooze.  They serve coffee on the train, we soon found out, and it was quite good and a screaming deal for one Euro.

What is that chick doing in the Porto sculpture?

By the time we arrived in Porto, we were hungry.  So, after we checked into our Airbnb, we took off to tour the town on foot.  Our hostess gave us a map with a list of the best places to eat, and we were off to seek delicious internal nourishment.

Porto is quite hilly and reminded me a lot of San Francisco.  Oh, and beautiful, beautiful, wish I was still there.  I had done a little research myself (Thank you, Rick Steves.) and, we set off to find Casa Guedes, famous for its pork sliders.  It was a bit of a hike, but we found it, and of course, there was a line out the door.  We were tired and hungry and almost blew it off to go elsewhere, but there were only four or five others ahead of us, so I insisted, we’ve gotta suck it up and try these.  After about ten minutes, we reached the counter to order.

The place is TINY, and when you get to the register, you had better know what you want.  This is what you want: pork slider with cheese and a glass or bottle of the house sparkling rose, which was not on the menu, as near as I could tell.

We sat at the three-seat bar and waited for our food.  Behind the bar was a man with a giant side of pork swimming in roast pork juicy deliciousness.  We were getting high on the fumes.  This was going to be good.

Magically delicious!  Casa Guedes pernil sande with Serra cheese.

Holy mother of the best pork sandwich you have ever had!  And the rose wine with it, heaven.  There were only about three or four small tables inside.  Most of the seating was outside on the patio.  It was a little chilly, but we sat outside and enjoyed our gastronomic bliss.  Joe had a Super Bock beer, which was good with the world’s best roast pork sandwiches that melted in our mouths, but the sparkling rose really was the perfect pairing.  This was one of the best meals that we had on our entire trip.  A simple, taste treat sensation and all for about 17 Euros for the two of us.  This is what I’m talking about.  Welcome to Porto!   When do we move in?

How we got to want out.

Ever since president #45 was elected, or mango unchained (Thank you Trevor Noah.), as we like to say, I have been on a mission to leave the country. Sounds so simple, doesn’t it? My husband and I are on the downside of middle age, and ever since the last recession, gainful employment has eluded us. (Not for lack of trying, mind you.) We can no longer afford to live in the Mile-High City, Denver, Colorado, that we have called home for the past 25 years. We have been hanging on by our fingernails and the generous support of family and friends for years. It seems that once we hit 50, nobody wanted us. Add to this that advancing age has caused me to loathe the extreme bipolar temperatures in Denver, and I have been trying to figure out where we could go to have a better quality of life for several years now.

I traveled a lot throughout western Europe in my youth, but my husband Joe had never been out of the country. In 28 years of marriage, we had never had a vacation together. Chalk it up to something else always taking precedence. So, given our advancing age and general dissatisfaction with our lives, I decided it was high time we got the hell out of Dodge, so to speak.
It is high on my bucket list to relocate to Europe and after a year of research, I decided that Portugal was the best possible choice. When friends asked, why Portugal? My answer was food, wine, and weather. Also, the cost of living is much lower and, to make residence there is a lot easier than most European countries. So, I decided, we need to plan a trip. Again, sounds so simple until you start to consider the cost of a trip like this from BFE USA. How shall we pay for this, I asked myself? With our good looks? Oh, yeah, those left the building a long time ago. As my Dad used to say, I wish I was born rich instead of good-looking.

Gold23

I was a professional harpist in L.A. for ten years, and have played professionally off and on since then. However, in the past several years, I have done maybe, two or three gigs total. As much as I loved my gold 23, Lyon & Healy concert harp, it was just collecting dust in our house. After much agonizing, waffling, and false starts, I walked into the wine shop where I work and announced, to no one in particular, “I’m selling my harp.” Now, selling a gold concert harp is no small endeavor. Replacement value is in the neighborhood of $53,000. The market value for mine was about $20,000. This could take some time. But here is the crazy thing, one of my co-workers knew a customer of the store who might be interested.  Enter Eddie Roberts, a Welsh jazz guitar player who is a successful gigging musician and has always wanted a harp like mine. Victor asked me to text him the info on the harp, which I did, and he sent it on to Eddie. Long story short, the deal was done in a matter of days and concluded shortly thereafter. This is a testament to the power of intention, I’ll say. It was nothing short of a small miracle that I sold my harp so easily and quickly.  I took it as a green light from the universe to start packing my bags and planning our little trip.

The long and winding road ahead!