Home in Portugal, At Last

Our temporary residency visas arrived from the Portuguese consulate. We could then travel to Portugal, live in our own dwelling, and begin to pay income tax to a third government (USA, California, and now Portugal).  

Packing for this trip is a bit different from our usual, since we are going to have a home base now. We can bring some comforts of home, like kitchen knives. I can start creating a real wardrobe again; I cannot wait to have an unsensible pair of shoes! And we are bringing our bikes; three of them. 

We left our large bags in Spain, stuffed with gear. My plan was to buy two more large bags and fill them with new clothes and stuff. Two new big suitcases became four real quick because the bike gear needs its own suitcase or two. 

It required a friend with a truck to get us to the airport. With a van and driver reserved at the other end. We would both relax as soon as we got these big bags checked and off our hands for the remainder of the trip. This flight is so ridiculously expensive because we have changed the tickets so many times that we decided to upgrade to business class. 

First indication that our trip was going to be challenging was the guy at check in. This man was pulling everything he had to keep us off those planes. Little does he know how prepared Mark is; he has invested hours and hours with British Airways and American Airlines to ensure that we have done everything right to carry this lot. First the guy objected to the fact that we were on one-way tickets, attempting a poor-you voice of compassion. Said Portugal would not let us in. This was not a problem last time we went to Portugal on one way tickets, all of six months ago? Besides we are not on a one way ticket; this is the return leg. So we pulled out our residence visas. Take that fat guy. He scrutinized them for five minutes or so before joyously exclaiming that we “missed our entry date and these were expired”. You are looking at the issue dates, Mark pointed out.

Not to be deterred, all our luggage was weighed. All bags weighed what we knew they would. 4 (including one bike) under 50 lbs and allowed with our tickets. One case weighing 70 lb, allowed at an additional expense. Glad we did not try to sneak in a few extra ounces.

Next he measured our bike crates. Measured at least three times. Exclaimed that they were too big, not anymore attempting to cover his glee. We showed him the place on the  websites for both airlines we were flying where the dimensions were posted and our bikes were within the limits. He still continued to search for another 15 minutes to try to prove us wrong. Finally after charging us more for the oversized bag than we knew he should, he reluctantly let us proceed. 

First jump to Dallas was great. Then the first fifteen minute delay in Dallas, followed by a couple more fifteen minute delays, than a gate change. Four or so more 15-minute delays. Than the gate changed back. An hour or two later, we are on a plane to London knowing our connection (a once a day flight) will leave without us. In the end our 19 hour flight increased to 42 hours. We were arriving after midnight in Portugal. Way too late to get keys from our property manager. So we made a quick reservation at the nearby Hilton. Nice hotel, thoroughly enjoyed and could have stayed all day, but we were eager to see our apartment for the first time. 

 Remember the van arranged to get us and our gear at the airport? We needed him again, even though we were about 3 minutes from our apartment, it was not walkable with that load. He agreed to meet us again in the morning.

First impression of our apartment building was the tiny elevator. It says the capacity is 4. Four lovers maybe. Somehow we got everything (sans one bike that I forgot to mention, was missing) up to our 5th floor apartment.

Our hopes were high, but our expectations low for this apartment to which we have committed for the next eleven months. Twelve month lease, but the term actually started last month. It’s not new, freezing cold, someone has been smoking, and the bed is the most uncomfortable I can imagine it could be and still be legal to call it a bed. Other than that…

There’s an ocean view! A nice balcony (with crappy furniture). Two sea views actually. In the foreground, a sea of white with creamy yellow trim apartment buildings. White with creamy yellow must be the theme for Vilamoura. But beyond that, blue ocean and an occasional parasailor. We arrived very tired on a foggy day. After some sleep and a sunny day, we are seeing more positives in the apartment than negatives. 

For the first week, I was down with a cold, or covid. Finally, I am now venturing out into the neighborhood. We have a well attended neighborhood bar about a 3 min walk. Another restaurant next door. I have found a recommended hair stylist, and a pilates class. We have sampled all the grocery stores in walking distance. Even took an uber to the nearest mall to get some apartment necessities. For the time being, we are getting by without a car.

The harbor in Vilamoura is Portugal’s answer to Marbella. About 100 restaurants and bars ringing a harbor full of yachts. Not the Russian oligarch yachts of Marbella, more in line of  average attainability, not a helicopter pad to be seen. Still a nice backdrop for happy hour or English breakfast.

Funny, English breakfast is a staple here. We have met several couples, mostly Irish and a few Scots. English are here somewhere. But if you want to meet Portuguese people, live in Portugal, not the Algarve. Mark commented that this transition will be easy; it is not like living in another country at all.

Vilamoura is a golf resort town built from the ground up around golf courses. Probably 40 years ago judging from the maturity of the trees. The town and the golf courses are surrounded by Italian stone pines. Currently at a really nice maturity. This makes Vilamoura a bit greener than more Algarve areas. Being on the south west corner of the European continent, it is pretty dry here. Seems we have moved from one southwest corner to another.