Dear CNN …

As one of our last vestiges of the USA in the EU – more precisely, Portugal – we really wanted to like and follow you, CNN. Of course, we realized that you’re not Rachel Maddow on MSNBC, but still …

You’re everywhere, all over the place, trying (too hard) to be liberal.

Even if (like Netflix) you’re a hybrid version, feeding us different programs and personalities than those available in the states, you’re still the closest thing to a USA-branded newscast that we receive here.

So, I should warn you not to take viewers like us for granted. Here’s what I mean:

I enjoy having my morning java with soothing voices and visages. Like Rosemary Church and Kim Brunhuber, who air here in Portugal at 8:00 AM and 9:00 AM, respectively. Trouble is, except for their calm demeanor and attractive wardrobe, all of the “news” they share are video clips I’ve already seen already–several times on different programs, earlier.

Maybe I should skip watching your programs the day before and watch them, instead, the morning after … with Rosemary and Kim?

Actually, I’m not particularly enamored with your evening line-up here … even when you’re juggling the timeslots. Let’s say that I sit down with a glass of wine at 5:00 PM (17H00), a reasonable time to “relax” with with Christiane Amanpour … even if the woman I see now sits behind a desk and anchors a talk show, rather than out in the trenches or hobnobbing with all the high-highfalutin dignitaries and diplomats you show when promoting her show.

(Speaking of promotions, do you realize how many times over the course of an hour, you promote Stanley Tucci’s “Searching for Italy” series premiering here on June 20th, although it’s already been shown in the USA months ago? Dozens! It almost makes me yearn for those spots of that Gambian woman who eats oysters for breakfast, lunch, and dinner on Melmac dishes … or the country’s only female professional Kora player teaching her son to bang a mean xylophone.)

Anyway …

If dinner is late, Amanpour morphs into Hala Gorani, who I used to like. Really! Now, she’s sloppy—easily distracted, stumbling over her words, and barely able to connect the dots when it comes to making sense out of stories playing over and again. For this, you dropped Brianna Keiler? Why bring back a lackluster has-been, when creative talent such as Keiler and Ana Cabrera are tried-and-true winners?

We turn off the tube for dinner when Richard Quest (who claims to mean business) airs. The man is downright irritating and uncouth. He doesn’t listen to his guests, but interrupts them incessantly. He slathers and spits. Those bonus 20 minutes recently inserted for Quest’s World of Wonder program is a total waste of time. Yours and mine. But what I dislike most about Richard Quest is his gravely, overworked voice—something between a grimacing growl and a rumbling roar.

Yeah, voices can be a big turn-off. You should know that, CNN.

Maybe then, you wouldn’t air so many promotions for Connecting Africa’s screeching Eleni Giokos, whose diction is fingernails against a blackboard heard throughout our house. You want me to sit through an entire hour of her (along with all your other Africa-related programs)?

While some of your reporters can speak clearly and consistently, others — especially your White House correspondents — pack more words per second into a two-minute monologue than Portuguese sardines in a can. Don’t they need to come up for air?

Sorry to tell you that I’ve also lost patience with “Breaking News” Wolf Blitzer on The Situation Room and conspiracist-charging Jake Tapper on The Lead. The former makes my blood pressure spike, while the latter is so annoying with his incessant whining and putting words in his guests’ mouths. Yet you give each of them hours to whittle away at my weariness.

Except for Fox News and MSNBC, which give you a run for your audience in the USA, it’s said you have little competition in the USA, CNN.

But that’s not the case here in Portugal, where my Internet package includes Fox and Bloomberg newscasts, as well as Al Jazeera. Whenever you (re)run something insipid, I can turn to EuroNews and Globovision, as well English language newscasts from France, the UK, Israel – even Korea and China – for more balanced and qualified opinions.

You boast that: ”More people get their news from CNN than any other source.”

Come on, CNN …

Hyperbole! Or in your case, alternative and fake news?”

Studies show that the majority of people today get their news through the social media.

In 2019, Pew Research concluded that 55% of the American public gets their news from social media. Even though Fox News is the most-watched television news station in the USA, your online presence is more than twice the size of Fox’s. The average USA prime time audience for Fox News is about 2.9 million (Nielsen). CNN’s USA average prime time viewers total 2.7 million. NBC, the current news leader, averages 8.8 ,million and ABC about 8.6 million.

As with most news content providers, you depend upon the usual suspects: The New York Times and Washington Post, Associated Press, Reuters, and United Press International. You also borrow and share from your rivals and reports floating around the Internet. Then, your “experts” — almost always a former-this or secondary official — opine about the issue.

According to your own “fact” sheet:

Your two dozen branded networks and services are available to more than 2 billion people in more than 200 countries and territories.

● You have 36 editorial operations around the world and around 3,000 employees worldwide.

● Your coverage is supplemented and carried by more than 1,000 affiliates worldwide.

● You reach 90 million households in the U.S.

● Your digital network is the number one online news destination, regularly registering more than 200 million unique visitors globally each month.

● Internationally, you reach more than 402 million households and hotel rooms worldwide.

Maybe so.

But I’d be thrilled if my Portugal package replaced CNBC with MSNBC.

Shared here are personal observations, experiences, and happenstance that actually occurred to us as we moved from the USA to begin a new life in Portugal and Spain. Collected and compiled in EXPAT: Leaving the USA for Good, the book is available in hardcover, paperback, and eBook editions from Amazon and most online booksellers.

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Back from the Dead: Mister Manny’s Miracle

Manny, Sheba, and Jackson

Just about two months ago, we took our three Miniature Schnauzers — Jax (the white one), Sheba (the black one) and Manny (the gray one) — to the vet in Castelo Branco for their annual inoculations and rabies boosters.

We live in Portugal now, since relocating from the USA about four years ago.

Anyway …

When the doctor examined Mister Manny, as we call our little boy, she became very concerned: his eyes and mouth were yellow, indicating hepatitis of the liver. She took blood tests and ultrasounds, which confirmed her diagnosis. To us, she said, “Manny is very, very sick. The liver is one organ that can’t regenerate itself or be repaired.” Handing us six different prescriptions — some pills, others to be given orally by syringe orally — she told us Manny did not have much time left and that we should prepare ourselves.

Mr. Manny

Over the next six weeks or so, Manny went from bad to worse: He didn’t eat. He drank lots of water. He was tired all the time. He couldn’t control himself. We went to our home in another area of Portugal, with our vet urging us to find a vet in the area quickly and to take Manny in. We did. This vet, too, told us that Manny was in very, very, poor condition and that the end was very near. By this point, the skin under his fur was beginning to turn yellow, too. After prescribing two more medications, she said, “You will know when it is time to take a different course of action.”

Needless to say, we were heartbroken. What we wanted and needed from the pragmatic vets was hope—something to hold onto. But they tell it as they see it here in Portugal.

All three of our dogs suffered from pancreatitis and had always been fed high-quality, low-fat foods. But this was different. Different and deadlier.

After the fourth visit following Manny’s initial diagnosis (and prognosis), his condition further deteriorated–despite the number of medications we fed to him. His sweet and outgoing spirit, along with all aspects of playfulness, were nowhere to be found.

We believed his time had come, after nine years.

Our little boy exhibited all the signs of end-stage liver failure. Hadn’t the veterinarian told us, “You will know when it’s time”?

Joana Rodrigues, his groomer and owner of 4Patas in Elvas, had come to love Manny and contacted us frequently to ask how he was doing. When we told Joana that we were planning to take Manny to the vet for euthanasia the next day … and then drive to Setúbal for cremation, she had another suggestion:

“The animal hospital in Portalegre should see Manny. How can one more opinion from another veterinarian hurt? If the vet agrees, the hospital can perform the euthanasia. They have an agreement with a crematorium in Lisbon to pick up the body for an individual incineration, returning the ashes to you in an urn.”

Portugal laws require a death certificate from the veterinarian and a “disposal” (of the body) form to be delivered to our local junta.

Despite our tears flowing like the Tagus River, we were quite impressed with the VetAl hospital facility and staff. Everyone — veterinarians, nurses, staff members — spoke English and were quite compassionate. After a few minutes, the veterinarian came out to the waiting room where she sat next to us, reviewing the treatment, medicines, and diagnoses Manny’s vets had provided.

“I will do as you wish,” she began. “But I must ask you if, first, we can keep Manny here in the hospital for three-four days. I understand everything his veterinarians have done … but they aren’t a hospital. We are. There are tests and procedures we can do here that they can’t. Will you allow us to try?”

Once again, our hearts skipped a beat. We drew upon the last bit of hope that we’d held in reserve and left Manny in the care of VetAl do Alto Alentejo.

Manny’s treatment consisted mainly of feeding him by IV and taking him off almost all the medications he’d been taking. And lots of prayer from many people attached to Manny.

“He’s doing much better,” the animal hospital reported to us by phone. “His swollen abdomen has gone down … he is eating, as well as drinking … he’s standing … and his excretory tract is functioning. You should come and see him.”

That we did.

Indeed, he was better. But still not the happy-go-lucky, active and spirited little schnauzer whom we’d adored for nine years now. The doctor told us that this was to be expected, as Manny was knocking at death’s door when we brought him there four days earlier. But he was obviously better … better than he was. Even if his little, misshapen body was bones and fur without flesh or fat.

Two days later, the veterinarians took new blood tests and compared the results with his earlier ones. Had the “bad” numbers gone down and the “good” ones up?

Manny continued to have elevated bilirubin and alkaline phosphatase values, but the doctor said that was quite normal at this stage of the disease. His Albumin and phosphorus levels, however, already were normalizing; his other vital levels were doing better, too. He no longer had a swollen belly, he seemed happy, and took strolls on the street led by hospital staff. And, unlike earlier, when we had to add fiber pellets to his food for solid stools, he was producing much better than he had in a while.

The hospital was very pleased with Manny’s progress.

We brought him home two weeks after we had taken him there to be given his last rites.

Honestly, we believed the vets at the animal hospital would tell us that Manny would never again be the same dog that he had been before his liver catastrophe. Nonetheless, he could survive and live a happy and peaceful life with us … although, for how long, we wouldn’t know.

The subject didn’t come up.

Instead, the vet went through the goodie bag prepared for our little boy containing his hospital records and laboratory tests, five different medicines (most different than the eight we’d been giving him earlier), and two cans of special low-fat, gastrointestinal food which we were to feed him – as much as he’d eat – twice daily.

Manny came home with two cans of food. He had developed an appetite–more during his afternoon feeding than the morning. Soon, we realized that we needed to get more … as quickly as possible. First, we went to Rockipets, our go-to source for specialty dog foods in Castelo Branco. They didn’t carry the brand, but could order it for us. Normally, the order would be delivered the next day. But this was Tuesday and Thursday was Corpus Christi, a national holiday. Everything would be closed and orders backed up. The delay could extend until the weekend–or later. We called our vet, who also was out of the food. “We only carry it by special order,” she said, promising to have it the following Monday when Manny was scheduled for his check-up and examination. Now, we were getting worried, as we heard the same story from every veterinarian we contacted in the Castelo Branco region. Out of desperation, we posted large pleas for information leading to the food on our two local Facebook groups. A good friend located four cans of it at her vet in Fundão, about 30 minutes away. We called to confirm and reserve the food, then jumped in the car and headed north on A23. Soon, we were back home with one large (400g) and three small (200g) cans, which lasted through the weekend.

Slowly but surely, little misshapen Mister Manny was returning to his former self. He followed us around, everywhere. He licked his big brother and sister, as they returned the love while they curled up together. He went out in the backyard to do his business, which was consistent and normal. He began talking to us again in that strange gargling voice, on its way to becoming louder and stronger. And with his historic “tap, tap, tap,” he’d use his paws plaintively, asking to be picked up and placed in our laps. Expressing some interest in his baskets of toys, he’d soon be shaking them ferociously and playing tug of war with the others.

People ask us, “How much did you spend on his health care?”

Truth be told, it must have amounted to about €1,500 (about US $1,850) … all things considered, since he had been diagnosed with a failing liver about four months ago. Much more expensive than human care, which is universal and subsidized by the government here. Still, if cost were the issue, we would have spent probably four times that amount in the USA. And, even if health care for pets isn’t covered in Portugal, it is tax-deductible. For us, however, providing the best possible health care – and hope – for our Miniature Schnauzer was worth whatever the price tag.

After all, Mister Manny went from being malignant to a miracle.

And, for that, we are indebted and grateful.

Whether the miracle lasts a month or years, the joy of having our lively little boy back with us again — after everything we’ve gone through — is well worth it.

Shared here are personal observations, experiences, and happenstance that actually occurred to us as we moved from the USA to begin a new life in Portugal and Spain. Collected and compiled in EXPAT: Leaving the USA for Good, the book is available in hardcover, paperback, and eBook editions from Amazon and most online booksellers.

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I Wish I Had Known That …

Apart from all the major stuff we need to know about moving to and living in Portugal — visas, residence, rules of the road, buying or renting property, etc. — there’s a bunch of little things that we learn as we deal with the days of our lives in Portugal.

For instance, unlike most places in the USA, making right turns on red aren’t allowed here.

We’ve compiled a list of random factoids and routine happenstance that’s worth a read.

For instance, the Portuguese tend to be passive-aggressive drivers. Either they take their sweet time, driving 20-40 kms below the speed limit on streets, highways, and byways (begging you to pass them, where possible) … or they’re aggressive speed demons who don’t drive the required two car lengths behind you, sticking, instead, on your tail until they can hop-scotch vehicle after vehicle. Similarly, always be careful to look in all directions — and then look, again — when walking around the area you live. (Too) many streets have neither yield nor stop signs, and some Portuguese drivers barrel down the roads without even slightly slowing down.

Here are some other things you might not have heard about the ins and outs of Portugal living:

Parking lots are good news and bad. The good news is that shopping carts often require a deposit of a 50 cent coin or a euro one to ensure that carts are returned to their corrals, rather than left wherever in the parking not. The bad news? Portuguese drivers often don’t take the time to straighten their vehicles and park within the lines, rather than helter-skelter, diagonally, across two or more spaces. Including parking spots reserved for the handicapped!

Watch where you step while walking around your area. Many dogs are allowed to roam and run through the streets where they take care of their “business.” More often than not, it’s not picked up. Pedestrians beware!

It’s illegal to use the outside lane of a roundabout to travel straight through unless you are exiting the roundabout.

Speed limits in Portugal depend on the both the type of road and vehicle. In “built-up” areas, for instance, the speed limit is 50 kph–approximately 31 mph.

Pets must wear special seat belts when out with you in the car. It’s the law!

A good rule of thumb is to remember that 80 kms is the equivalent of 50 miles–whether in distance or speed. Similarly, 80ºF is midpoint between 26-27º measured in Celsius.

You are be required to exchange your driving license within 185 days of getting a residence certificate in Portugal. Woe to you if you don’t! You’ll be required to suffer through Portuguese driving school which includes learning to use a driver’s school vehicle with manual transmission, being tested on all the rules — and signs — of the road, and demonstrating your ability to understand the mechanics of how vehicles operate by changing a tire, draining and adding fluids, and troubleshooting minor mechanical problems.

Plan on filing your annual Portuguese income tax returns first, and then filing those with your home country. Typically, you’ll need two accountants: one to file your Portuguese taxes, the other to file what’s due elsewhere. Most accountants filing USA taxes for foreigners in Portugal, for instance, automatically request an extension until October, so that Portuguese taxes can be taken into account when preparing client tax returns for Uncle Sam.

Forget about personal checks in Portugal and most EU countries. They’re a relic of the past. Most people use plastic these days. Checks sent from stateside to Portugal for special occasions and gifts won’t be accepted for deposit by Portuguese banks. Even if you have an app from your USA bank to conduct your banking online, you will also need an American sim card or chip.

When cashiers ask you for our “número contribuinte,” they’re asking if you want to provide your fiscal number (NIF). That way, the money you’ve spent on purchases will be reported to the tax authorities and you’ll receive (income) tax credits for your spending.

Offered the option of paying in dollars or euros with a credit or debit card? Always choose euros. You’ll be shown the exchange rate–how much in dollars you’ll pay for your currency exchange from euros. From time to time, write down that amount. Then, when you’re in a more personal space, check to see how much actually was charged to your credit or debit card. Invariably, you’ll find that you get a much better deal by opting for your transaction to be in euros.

Tips aren’t expected, but they are very much appreciated. Especially in restaurants, snack bars, and cafés. Most people leave the loose change on the table when ordering coffee or a tinto. Some Americans used to tipping 20% or more are astonished that 5% is the general going rate for tips in Portugal–especially for tabs up to 20€.

Municipalities in Portugal are measured from small to large. The smallest is the aldea (village), followed by vila (town) and cidade (city). Towns and cities are governed by juntas and cámaras (councils), while official business in villages is overseen by their fregusías (parishes).

Speaking of sizes, don’t forget to bring some of the smallest things with you–especially pharmaceuticals, like aspirin or eye drops. They can be hard to find in some parts of Portugal and much more costly than you’ve been used to paying.

Certainly, there are more things you may have wished you’d known before putting boots on the ground here in Portugal. Can you think of others, besides what we’ve posted here?

Shared here are personal observations, experiences, and happenstance that actually occurred to us as we moved from the USA to begin a new life in Portugal and Spain. Collected and compiled in EXPAT: Leaving the USA for Good, the book is available in hardcover, paperback, and eBook editions from Amazon and most online booksellers.

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The Jab

Sometimes, the system works.

Against what I’d imagined to be the greatest of odds in this socialist bureaucracy, where Covid vaccinations are only available through government departments and dispensaries, I got called to come in for my jab.

What’s amazing about this is that I’m neither a citizen nor permanent resident … just another expat-immigrant still classified as a “temporary” resident, even though we’re working on four years since we arrived in Portugal.

Even more extraordinary was the fact that I was called – not messaged, emailed, or contacted via the postal system – by a real person speaking Portuguese so quickly that, twice, I had to ask her to slow down a bit.

“Pode a senhora falar um pouco mais devar, por favor?”

At first, I thought she was another salespeople, calling like MEO telemarketers to sell me something. “A senhora quer vender-me alguma coisa?” I asked as she came up for breath. “Não, não, não!” she insisted, stating that she was calling me in Alcains, Castelo Branco, to schedule my first Covid shot. Odd, though, that she said she was in Évora, despite the fact that my caller ID showed her location as Estremoz.

I asked her where I was to go and when.

“Elvas. In the old business center located in the industrial zone, at 1:30 pm on Thursday,” she replied.

“Can I get the shot here in Alcains, instead?” I asked. Elvas is a good two-hour drive away.

She didn’t know. I’d have to ask the officials here in Alcains. But, if I wanted to get my shot two days later, I would have to confirm with her for Elvas now. I’d tried getting information from my local centro de saúde, but the doors were (almost) always shut and the people inside just shook their heads when I knocked on the door and spoke Portuguese with my English accent peppered with Spanish.

So, I confirmed.

This, in itself, is a matter of no small significance!

See, we divide our time between small homes in Alcains (Castelo Branco) and Vila Boim (Elvas). When in Elvas last year, I suffered from some gastrointestinal malady that forced me to consult with a doctor, who insisted that I undergo a colonoscopy—something I’d defiantly avoided for 70 years.

To undergo the colonoscopy, however, I’d have to bring proof that I tested negative for Covid within 48 hours of the procedure. The Affidea clinic (in Évora) offered to do the test while I was there, before my colonoscopy—for €120. The same test was free in Elvas, the concelho where we lived.

But I was registered with the health department in Alcains, our first and primary home.

“Not a problem,” advised the drive-up Covid technicians. “Just have the test prescribed by your physician here in Elvas … take it to the hospital … and they’ll schedule an appointment for your test within 48 hours. Come back here, the same place, when you’re scheduled.”

Trouble was, my doctor was off for the week. Her receptionist suggested that I go directly to the hospital, which I did. Very pleasant people. But, before they could attend to me, I would need to get my “Utente” (health care) paperwork changed from Alcains to Elvas at the Centro de Saúde in Elvas and then return to the hospital to be scheduled for the test.

All that accomplished, we were ready to head to Affidea in Évora for the colonoscopy, when an SMS (message) arrived on our mobile: My procedure had been cancelled because I hadn’t booked a Covid test at the clinic.

We ran to the doctor’s office, negative Covid results officially in hand, where the receptionist called Affidea and gave them a piece of her mind. In rapid-fire Portuguese. Turning to us with a smile, she said “Sem problema. Tudo bem.” And off we went.

All of the preceding is prologue, a digression, if you will, to contextualize my marvel at how the Portuguese system had actually worked: Despite all the changes and complications, I had been called to come in for my first Covid shot.

The process was precise and professional. I showed my identity card and it was confirmed against the list the facility had of who had been scheduled that day and at what time. Remaining outside, they brought me a clipboard with a short form to fill out: Had I ever had Covid? Had I ever had a Covid shot? Was I suffering any of the (listed) symptoms?

Handing me a card that said Astra-Zeneca, the guard escorted me inside, where six cubicles had been set up for the injections. Within two minutes, a nurse entered, had me roll up my sleeve, and jabbed me. Amazingly, I didn’t feel the shot at all!

Another attendant led me to a seating area, where people were purposefully seated in the order we’d received our inoculations. First shot, first seated. We sat there for 30 minutes, watching a slide show about Elvas play over and again. Half an hour had passed when the guard came to escort me out, asking how I felt.

“Tudo bem,” I said, as I really did feel fine at that moment.

“Do I need to schedule my next appointment?” I asked before leaving … even though my second jab wasn’t to be given for another three months. Three months!

“Não,” responded the guard. “We will call you again.”

Over the next three days, I suffered chills and flushes, alternatively feverish and cold. I was “spacey” in that way that older relatives can become. My bones felt like jelly, jamming in a loosey-goosey way that made walking an exercise in futility.

It passed.

As Portugal heads into the next stage of its vaccination process – those over 65 are being jabbed – I look at my Astra-Zeneca card and feel a bit more confident and trusting.

Despite their tendency to be helpful and courteous, in Portugal and Spain, you don’t call them. They call you.

And they do! It just takes time …

Shared here are personal observations, experiences, and happenstance that actually occurred to us as we moved from the USA to begin a new life in Portugal and Spain. Collected and compiled in EXPAT: Leaving the USA for Good, the book is available in hardcover, paperback, and eBook editions from Amazon and most online booksellers.

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Gun Shots Reverberating Round the World

Photo by Michael Ciaglo/USA Today Network, via Reuters

Incredibly, at least least 110 people were shot and killed, with another 223 injured in 217 separate incidents over the last 72 hours in the USA.

Nearly every state has experienced gunfire.

Just weeks ago, I chronicled the massacres:

Eight people were killed and many more injured at a FedEx facility in Indianapolis, Indiana, a couple of days ago.

Actually, there have been at least 24 mass shootings over the past five years, according to a database compiled by the Violence Project.

Each new attack is a gruesome reminder of all that came before it:

On March 22, a gunman opened five at a grocery store in Boulder, Colorado, killing ten people, including a police officer. CNN reports that the Colorado attack was the seventh USA mass shooting massacre in seven days.

On March 16, eight people — including six women of Asian descent — were killed at spas in the Atlanta area. That same day, a shooting spree across five miles in Springfield, Missouri, left five people dead–including a police officer and the gunman. Also on March 16, five people preparing a vigil in Stockton, California, were victims of a drive-by shooting.

Four victims were taken to the hospital after a shooting in Gresham, Oregon, on March 18th. Five people were shot on Saturday, March 20, inside a Houston club. In a different part of Texas, eight people were shot by an unknown assailant in Dallas that day. Also on March 20, one person was killed and another five injured during a shooting at a party in Philadelphia.

These deaths are a predictable outcome of the USA´s lack of political will to make major changes in firearm legislation.

What’s worse, we’ve grown weary hearing — and seeing — these gruesome statistics.

Despite the pandemic, 2020 was the deadliest gun violence year in decades, according to the Washington Post. But we’re barely into the second quarter of 2021.

Gun control is a weapon of mass destruction among politicians — especially Republicans — who enjoy the largesse of the National Rifle Association, despite the NRA’s decades of deception, corruption, bribery, and fraud.

Hiding behind the Constitution’s Second Amendment that reads, “A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed,” gun enthusiasts and their congressional loyalists steadfastly refuse to deal with the destruction.

When will they realize that the only ¨militias” around these days are far-right extremist groups like the Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, and others that planed and participated in the January 6th attack and insurrection on the US Capitol?

Well regulated? Who’s kidding whom?

Come on, folks: How did we ever allow “open carry” laws to be legislated into existence?

When did we lose all sense and sensibility? Or civility? And sensitivity. Raw power at the end of a gun barrel is a consequence of the extremism grown rampant in America. Why talk and negotiate, when we can scream, threaten, and kill?

Studies and proposals to reduce gun violence include sensible actions which must be mandated and enforced by the government: Expand background checks; raise the age to buy guns; ban assault weapons; restrict the sale of “bump sticks” attached to semi-automatic weapons; and increase “red flag” laws that give courts more authority to confiscate weapons from people considered to be threats to themselves and others.

All boil down to one simple solution: reducing easy access to dangerous weapons through sober, sensible laws.

Because not only are guns used by madmen in massacres, but brutally, at times, by police.

Guns aren’t only political grenades, they hold each of us individually hostage.

As Phaedra Ellis-Lamkins, someone I never met, succinctly put it:

“I need to run some errands this morning. To ensure I arrive alive, I won’t take public transit (Oscar Grant). I removed all air fresheners from the vehicle and double-checked my registration status (Daunte Wright), and ensured my license plates were visible (Lt. Caron Nazario). I will be careful to follow all traffic rules (Philando Castille), signal every turn (Sandra Bland), keep the radio volume low (Jordan Davis), and won’t stop at a fast food chain for a meal (Rayshard Brooks). I’m too afraid to pray (Rev. Clementa C. Pickney) so I just hope the car won’t break down (Corey Jones).

“When you run errands today, be sure not to dance (Elijah McClain), stop to play in a park (Tamir Rice), patronize the local convenience store for snacks (Trayvon Martin), or walk around the neighborhood (Mike Brown). Once home, don’t stand in your backyard (Stephon Clark), eat ice cream on the couch (Botham Jean), or play any video games (Atatiana Jefferson).

“I guess I’ll watch a movie around 7:30pm, I won’t leave the house to go to Walmart (John Crawford) or to the gym (Tshyrand Oates) or on a jog (Ahmaud Arbery). I won’t even walk to see the birds (Christian Cooper). I’ll just sit and remember what a blessing it is to breathe (George Floyd) and I definitely won’t go to sleep (Breonna Taylor).”

The gunshots and murders of innocent people by shooters are being heard all around the world–including Portugal, one of the world’s three most peaceful countries., where I live.

Whenever the news covers yet another shooting in America, I can’t help but feel that my Portuguese neighbors — Spanish, too — look at me incredulously, seeking an explanation.

There is no explanation for these shots heard around the world.

But I am relieved that we live in Portugal.

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When the Saints Come Marching In

For heaven’s sake, the Portuguese and Spaniards love their saints.

Or, perhaps it’s their saints’ days (many last longer than a day!) with all the festivities and closures that they really appreciate?

As two of the most Catholic countries, religious holidays are bountiful in both Spain and Portugal, where many of the same feast days and ferias are celebrated.

Holy Week (“Semana Santa”), the week before Easter starting on Palm Sunday, is recognized almost everywhere “Christian,” as is Christmas. Both Portugal and Spain also pay tribute to the Eucharist through Corpus Christi, the “Body of Christ,” with processions, prayers, bells, incense, singing, and church services. (The exact date of Corpus Christi varies each year, according to Easter.)

Next to Jesus, most venerated is the Virgin Mary. Personally, I’m reminded of that daily … as the street we now live on is named Nossa Senhora dos Altos Céus (“Our Lady of the Highest Heavens”).

A four-day “Festa Nossa Senhora Dos Altos Céus” is the highlight of the year here in Lousa. In addition to all the religious homage featuring a procession along streets festooned with petals, marching band, icons held high on their floats, and people dressed in their finest, following along up town and down, a carnival-like atmosphere pervades the village with celebratory lights strung across streets, community meals, games of chance, carousing and partying. Then, it takes weeks for the community to clean up from all that revelry.

Portugal and Spain honor Mary on August 15th for the Assumption of Mary, and on December 8th for the Immaculate Conception.

Celebrated on the same day (November 1st) in Spain and Portugal, too, is All Saints Day: “Todos los Santos” in Spanish and “Dia de Todos os Santos” in Portuguese, a national holiday in the two countries.

From national to the local levels, every town, village, and province in Portugal and Spain honors its own special saints, as well.

In Olvera, our town in southern Spain, it’s Mary who’s again praised. According to tradition, sometime around 1500, a shepherd found an abandoned virgin about two kilometers from Olvera and, there, the Olvereños built their hermitage, an object of worship and consolation to the townsfolk all these years. Back in 1715, Olvera suffered a severe famine due to a drought and prayed for the Virgin to intercede. And the rain came! Thanking our Lady of Los Remedios is a tradition now on the Monday of Quasimodo, toasting the Virgin with a special pastry known as the “Torta del Lunes de Quasimodo.”

For the sheer quantity of saints having holidays, the prize goes to Portugal … which has several saints honored across the country. Who hasn’t heard of Fátima, Portugal’s most famous Christian pilgrimage?

On May 13, 1917, three children saw a miraculous vision of the Virgin Mary in Fátima. Later that same year, other apparitions apparently were witnessed by large numbers of people at the site.

Nowadays, a candlelight procession through the town on May 12th leads to the sanctuary. The next day, crowds wave white handkerchiefs, as a statue of the Virgin is carried from the high altar to the Chapel of the Apparitions during the “Adeus” (farewell) procession the following day. A second pilgrimage is held in October.

The Portuguese celebrate November 11th as Saint Martin’s Day, another national holiday, which honors a soldier who cut his cloak in half to help keep a beggar warm … after which the sun came out to warm him. As a result, warm days at the beginning of November are called “St. Martin’s Summer.” The Portuguese celebrate this time – called “Magusto” – with bonfires and parties, lots of chestnuts and wine.

Respects are paid to John the Baptist (São João) around the country on June 23-24.

With all due respect, however, nowhere are as many saints recognized as in little Lousa. Besides the principal holiday devoted to “Our Lady of the Highest Heavens,” Lousa features at least four favored saints.

In August 2018, Santa Luzia is exalted on the 4th and 5th with a procession and a special exposition dedicated to her at our historical museum. Not two weeks later is a three-day (17-19) festival honoring Saint Sebastian (São Sebastião). Other saints officially recognized and revered in this small village with a population hovering at about 800 include Santa Bárbara and San Antonio (the latter is feted for three days in June with a sardine fest). Nearby Lardosa sponsors its own four-day jubilee for Saint Anthony in August.

Yet, so enthralled is Lousa with its saints that Lousarte, our hometown cultural association, published a book entitled Los Santos da Lousa e Outras Coisas, available for purchase at the Lousarte museum.

Museums seem to be religion’s realm today, albeit holy days, special events and occasions – births, weddings, funerals – notwithstanding.

Fewer people seem to be participating in church services on Sundays.

Lord knows – except for the elderly, mostly women at that – I hardly see people going into or coming out of churches when the bells toll. Maybe it’s the same at other places of worship, too?

There’s an oft-told joke in Spain which, loosely translated, states that “A Spaniard will die defending the doors of his church. That doesn’t mean that he’ll ever go in!”

I suspect the same may be more or less true today in Portugal.

And elsewhere, too.

Shared here are personal observations, experiences, and happenstance that actually occurred to us as we moved from the USA to begin a new life in Portugal and Spain. Collected and compiled in EXPAT: Leaving the USA for Good, the book is available in hardcover, paperback, and eBook editions from Amazon and most online booksellers.

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Checks and Balances: Banking in Spain & Portugal

Remember the days when American Express advised us not to leave home without the company’s ubiquitous traveler’s checks, accepted and exchanged virtually everywhere … for a fee?

Alarmy Stock Photo

Forget about them.

They’re no longer accepted at banks and few offices (far between) will convert them to the local Euro currency.

It’s not only American Express checks. It’s all checks. Especially, personal ones. Even if you have a bank account in Portugal or Spain, you can’t just deposit your Christmas card gifts from back home or birthday presents sent on paper. Some banks won’t accept them at all; others, will charge a hefty fee – upwards of 25€ — for the privilege of waiting while each check is sent back to the USA for conversion before posting to your account.

EU countries are becoming cashless societies where plastic is the financial instrument de rigeur—at least at retail stores and points-of-sale. No longer are cards inserted, slid, or swiped; they’re hardly even touched, since the card “reader” comes within kissing distance of approval or denial, as your hand hovers over it. Increasingly, too, is your telephone as the tool of choice in financial transactions. Same concept, different instrument: card or mobile.

It may be awkward for some, but remind anyone from the USA in the habit of sending you checks that, not only can it take up to two months for you to receive it in the mail … and most banks (if they’ll even accept American checks) charge a minimum of 12.5% of the check’s value to convert and deposit it to your Portuguese or Spanish bank account. In the end, it’s a lose-lose proposition with you paying coming and going.

Best bet? Impersonal as they may be, international funds transfer services – Paypal, (Transfer)Wise, Western Union, etc. – will charge a small fee and choose the exchange rate, but the money will be received by you usually within 24 hours. Money can be transferred quite easily from home via the Internet.

Online, too, deposits, withdrawals, and transfers are now virtual, if not literal. Buying and paying online has boomed thanks to stay-at-home shoppers who purchase everything not available to them through local merchants or shopping centers.

Think that’s going to change once Covid no longer is such a threat?

Brace yourselves for the brave new world of banking.

Neither Spain nor Portugal typically credit your money that they’re holding (and investing) with interest. Quite the contrary: For the privilege of granting banks the right to serve as clearing houses for your recurring bills and financial transactions, several of Spain’s largest banks are charging fees of 90 Euros quarterly – that’s €360, nearly US $500 per year – to steward your funds, plus additional fees for withdrawals, transfers, and other transactions. While few banks or any in Portugal (that I know of) charge such usurious fees, they all do eat away at your savings with fees for every transaction. Adding insult to injury is that – on top of these fees – banks are also required to charge IVA (sales tax, if you will) of 21% in Spain and 23% in Portugal.

(If/when you do open an interest-bearing account, it’s almost not worth it: we deposited €11,000 in a U$D account for six months—you need to specify how long the investment period will last. At the end, we had earned about 40€ on our deposit. But that was before taxes were deducted on our earnings. In the end, our €11,000 earned a whopping 14€! Plus, the account usually isn’t insured.)

A bank account is required for residency in both countries so that your recurring bills can be directly debited.

Then there’s the Multibanco:

More than the ATMs Americans are accustomed to, Multibancos do much more than disperse cash from your account, or allow you to move money from one account to another within the same bank. You can pay bills and/or transfer money to other people, businesses, and government agencies (regardless of their bank) and debit directly those recurring charges—like your electric, water, car payment, insurance, and telecommunication bills. Forgotten your personal IBAN number? You can obtain it – along with a detailed summary of your transaction history – electronically through your home computer or mobile device and, of course, the Multibanco.

We’ve come to appreciate the Multibanco, but know that all aren’t alike. There’s a difference between an ATM and the Multibanco.

The branch we bank at, for instance, has a Multibanco outside, while, inside the entrance is its own ATM. You can’t use any other bank’s credit or debit card at that ATM … but, theoretically, you can use your bank’s debit card at any Multibanco.

When using a debit card with a Multibanco to withdraw funds from a bank account in the USA, always be certain to reject the option for the amount to be deducted in dollars. It’s the last question prompted – twice, including a confirmation – before the transaction is completed. Instead, opt for the withdrawal to be done in Euros, with your home bank handling the transfer. The same holds true when using a debit card for purchases: always choose the “euros” option, not the dollars one.

On a withdrawal (or purchase) of 100€, we’ve saved ten to fifteen euros that way … enough to buy a really good lunch in Iberia.

Supposedly, you can’t withdraw more than two hundred euros (€200) on any day from the Multibanco. We ass-u-me they’re inter-connected … so if we withdraw €200 from this Multibanco, we won’t be allowed to withdraw another 200€ from that one, using the same card and account.

If one needs cash – more than €200 – on the same day, however, there are ways around the Multibanco’s limits. If you have more than one bank account and debit or credit card, for example, just use another one to draw out up to another two hundred euros. Keep going … until you reach what you need or run out of cards.

Then, of course, you can go into the bank itself to take out larger sums. But you’ll pay a higher fee for the personalized service.

Perhaps someone else can explain all the curious charges, fees, taxes, and take-aways affixed to our bank accounts in Portugal and Spain. You know: those amounts preceded by minus signs and abbreviations?

I understand “comissões” and my monthly “quotas” – fees charged for the bank’s associated accounts with additional benefits – but what about all those other encrypted letter deductions:

  • IMP.TRF.P?
  • DESP.TRF.P?
  • I.SELO OP.BANC?
  • COM SERV EST R O?
  • COM OE STP NET 24?

For pure economics, financial institutions are making money on top of money through a variety of fees, charges, and commissions.

“It is well enough that people of the nation do not understand our banking and monetary system, for if they did, I believe there would be a revolution before tomorrow morning,” Henry Ford claimed.

Thomas Jefferson charged, “I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies.” Of course, neither man had access to the Multibanco.

Shared here are personal observations, experiences, and happenstance that actually occurred to us as we moved from the USA to begin a new life in Portugal and Spain. Collected and compiled in EXPAT: Leaving the USA for Good, the book is available in hardcover, paperback, and eBook editions from Amazon and most online booksellers.

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O Número Contribuente?

Americans are issued Social Security Numbers in the USA which are used to identify them—from taxpayer to pensioner.

Other countries assign their citizens (and residents) a variety of numbers. In Portugal, for example, in addition to a social security number, many of us also have a separate health care number, driver’s license number, and – of course – the ubiquitous “fiscal” (or taxpayer) number, technically known as our NIF but more popularly referred to as the número contribuente.

Every time we go shopping, we’re queried “Contribuinte?” by the cashier.

Merchants are required to ask if want to provide your “número contribuinte” for that purchase … although you aren’t required to give it. But, if you do, it’s recorded and reported to the tax office.

Will providing your NIFs for Lidl or Continente purchases affect your tax bill in Portugal?

It could!

Part of the reason behind tracking money spent and received is to thwart the “underground economy” and its financial transactions. But, thanks to giving our número contribuente, our own tax records display deductions we can take on our income taxes. And we’re entered in lottery-like “drawings” held regularly by Finanças and the tax office.

(Unless you pay income taxes here, however, you can’t claim these deductions. If you do pay taxes here, some “costs” are reclaimable.)

In welcoming us to their country, we want Portugal to know that we are investing in it, too, by purchasing from its businesses.

So, although not required or requested, when I head to SEF to renew my residencia, I’ll also be handing over a printout of the spending I’ve done here … attributed to my número contribuente!

Shared here are personal observations, experiences, and happenstance that actually occurred to us as we moved from the USA to begin a new life in Portugal and Spain. Collected and compiled in EXPAT: Leaving the USA for Good, the book is available in hardcover, paperback, and eBook editions from Amazon and most online booksellers.

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Moving Out, Moving On

What do you do when your doctor decides you cannot go up and down the 37 stairs (a dozen times daily) in your house anymore? Especially with your three dogs—which you walk twice around the village: once with the two little ones and, again, with the bigger boy? And, further, that the aches and pains in your back and your bones are unable to withstand the uneven cobble stones paving your streets because of the stresses and strains they put on you—especially when walking your dogs around your beloved village four times each day?

You don’t have 37 steps? Or three dogs? And your streets are paved with asphalt, not cobble stone, you say? Or you live on a quinta?

No matter.

Consider this scenario, one quite familiar to Americans seeking to move abroad to Portugal (and Spain). One of the indispensable requirements of obtaining a residency visa is documenting that you have a dwelling … at least for your first six months here.

You can rent or buy.

Though some opt for renting, knowing they will have to relocate when their lease is up, it’s a sensible choice—especially if you have few household items and worldly goods to transport. You’ll have a chance to live up close and personal and understand the lay of the land as you explore other neighborhoods, nearby towns and villages and cities, or (perhaps) elsewhere entirely in the country.

Your choice.

You have six months to travel and explore, gambling that, for whatever reason – a community of friends already living there, proximity to the coast and its Atlantic beaches, charm of the place that tugs at your heartstrings and beckons, a perfect plot to put down roots and live off the land instead of the grid – the time will provide opportunities so that you don’t have to rush to judgment about where you’ll live.

Others, like us, however, prefer to buy—submitting a property deed with our visa application, rather than a rental contract.

With all the moves we’ve made already, packing the mementos and monuments of our 25+ years together for a transatlantic shipment would be our last herculean undertaking before the Atlas in us shrugged.

Buying in a “foreign” country requires a different type of fortitude. For instance, you need to envision – even fantasize – the lay of the land where you want to be: Urban, suburban, or rural? Village, town, or city? On the coast, in the center, or along the border? Single-family detached house, “row” home, duplex, apartment, condo, or land enough to grow (maybe even sell) your edibles and comestibles? New build or resale, renovation or ruin to rebuild from scratch?

Along with such demographic factors, you’ll also want to weigh in with the “psychographics.” Close your eyes and picture your perfect place. What does it look like? More important, how does it feel to you? For the sake of seclusion are you opting for less in terms of Internet and telecommunications options—especially if you’ll be working online? If dogs are already part of your furry family (or will be), will you be comfortable in a home without any land, requiring you to walk and pick up after them, regardless of the weather … which can be day upon day and weeks at a time of continuous rain or brutal, scorching sun where it can be 100 degrees or more in the shade throughout the summer? Do you have special health issues or concerns which will dictate medical availability and accessibility?

And what many of us forget to take into account is our age: Will what seems reasonable, doable, and accommodating now feel or be just as easy to cope with down the road five, ten, twenty years hence?

In our case, we didn’t know if Russ would be able to continue working remotely. Would his close-knit Door County performing arts company consent to him not working under their thumb? Would they be willing to contract communications and marketing – as well as attendance, virtually, at staff meetings – from a time zone six hours later?

We didn’t know when we began planning our move; yet, discretion being the greater part of valor, we concluded that we’d best assume that we’d be “freelancers,” with new income flowing from the USA except for Social Security.

Along with a relatively modest budget, that was a reality which dictated many of our choices and criteria where to look and live in Portugal.

Eyes closed, we envisioned our new home set in an idyllic village with cobble stone streets and a picturesque church whose bells would mark the tempo of our daily lives. Our home would be easily accessible by car to shopping, dining, and entertainment. After ten years of flying to our vacation bolt in southern Spain, it would also be within an easy driving distance. Importantly, too, it had to be approved for commercial use, as we planned to open our “Tapas Americanas” to produce income.

All told, we made three round-trips between the USA and Portugal in search of the “right” property, searching for places between Coimbra and Castelo Branco that met our needs … and wants. We scheduled one of our trips to coincide with a Pure Portugal seminar on buying and building, losing one possibly perfect property close to Miranda do Corvo because it sold before we could make an offer; we bypassed another property after learning at the seminar that a “build,” enclosed on three sides by a mountain, would be difficult to maintain because of the moisture and constant battle against damp and mold.

Towards the end of our second tour, we found a house that ticked off all of our boxes. In a village just 15 minutes outside of Castelo Branco, it was postcard picturesque. On the street level, it had housed a café before the owner’s husband died and she put the property for sale—including the lower-level café, a courtyard, and large kitchen.

Above, rose two more levels. On the first was a huge living room, two smaller rooms (formerly bedrooms, but offices for us), and a separate wing above the downstairs kitchen with a large guest quarters and en suite that not only would provide privacy, but could be used as an AirBnB rental. The top floor featured a master bedroom with walk-in closet and separate en suite, an adjacent multi-purpose room with a second (service) kitchen, and a huge covered terrace. The house also included a large attic with ample room for storage.

The drawbacks? After being vacant for several years, the elements had taken their toll on the premises which needed repairs, mold remediation, and painting … not to mention an entirely new kitchen constructed downstairs. Those 37 steps would be our daily exercise. And, although the café was zoned “commercial,” the landlady had allowed its license to lapse. To be granted a new license would require bringing the café up to current code—at least €10,000 in construction costs to make it handicapped accessible, more mobile and modern.

Not that it mattered, anymore …

Russ’ employers wanted him to keep working for them. This was well before Covid closures and work restrictions; they were willing, at least, to give it a try. Fortunately, everything worked well. Not only did it prepare the organization for the new realities of work caused by the pandemic, but it also prepared the way for other employees and contractors to work remotely as well.

We fixed up and improved the house, using the former café as our gathering area for friendly get-togethers. Walking the streets with our dogs, we got to know our neighbors. Because few in this provincial village spoke English, our conversational skills grew beyond “Bom Dia” and “Obrigado.” These good-hearted yet private people knocked on our door, bringing baskets with fruits and vegetables from their gardens or quintas. We came to enjoy the local holidays and festivities, even as we respected the solemn processions of locals paying their last respects to those dearly departed. Living on the main street brought life’s realities and rituals to our windows, balcony, and front door.

With each chime of the church bells, I grew older … crossing that milestone from sixties to seventies, from an energetic “senior citizen” to an “elderly” fussbudget. Limbs broken 20 years earlier sent me not-so-gentle reminders with increasing frequency. New ills, aches, and allergies began to trouble me. Never particularly patient to begin with, I increasingly identified with grumpy old men filled with frustrations, feeling (felling) my physical limitations and life passing me by.

When a series of gastrointestinal problems and my first bout with sciatica brought me to hospitals, laboratories, pharmacies, and clinics, my physician insisted that pharmaceuticals could just do so much to help; some major changes must now be made in our lives.

“You cannot continue to climb up and down all those stairs,” she stated, “especially with the dogs. And the uneven cobble stones in the streets aren’t helping, as the dogs pull you going after a dog or cat.”

“So, what are you saying; what do you suggest?” I asked, presuming her forthcoming answer.

“You must move!” she informed me. “Find a one-level home with a backyard, a quintal. Maybe a bungalow. You will see how much better you will begin to feel.”

Move? Again? After all that planning? From a village that had welcomed and embraced us: Newcomers! Over the last ten years or so, the local population had been halved—from 1,200 to 600.

I had adjusted and adapted my life in retirement to one of active involvement. Since moving to Lousa, I had one book published and was working on a new one. I wrote regularly for The American Magazine (UK) and The Portugal News. I created and administer several popular Facebook groups—one for “Portalegre People” (where our other home was located); another for “LGBTQ+ People and Friends in Portugal”; and a third, “American Expats & Friends in Portugal and Spain,” for expats, immigrants, the curious, and wannabes. Most important, however, was the progressive, interfaith congregation I pastored for hurting and spiritually hungry “People of Faith Online.” And, most recently, we launched Portugal Living Magazine, an English language magazine that covers the entire country, connecting people throughout … as well as those seeking to relocate.

Move? At this point, I needed to think of it not as moving out, but moving on. Nonetheless, it’s not as easy as one might think.

Stay tuned …

Shared here are personal observations, experiences, and happenstance that actually occurred to us as we moved from the USA to begin a new life in Portugal and Spain. Collected and compiled in EXPAT: Leaving the USA for Good, the book is available in hardcover, paperback, and eBook editions from Amazon and most online booksellers.

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Buyers, Beware (Renters, Too)!

Technically, Portugal’s mainland is divided into 18 districts (distritos) formerly referred to as provinces; 278 municipalities (concelhos); 159 cities (cidades); 533 towns (vilas); and 2,882 civil parishes (freguesias). Countless “unofficial” villages like ours add to these numbers.

Unless you know someone with boots on the ground, speak the language well enough to be treated like a local, or are lucky by happenchance to be in the right place at the right time, finding an acceptable place to live means turning to “property agents” to help and guide you.

The property representation enterprise differs from country to country within the European Union, and is altogether different from what we have experienced back in the States.

Beginning online … where most people start their property searches. Property portals Kyero, Idealista, Custo Justo, Olx, and Milanuncios are good places to look, along with Facebook groups like Pure Portugal.

Then, if we use the handy form online to request more information or a showing, we have every right (if not reason) to expect a representative will contact us … if not today or tomorrow, sooner than later. No?

Often, multiple agencies will list the same property … but with different (and, sometimes, conflicting) information. Whether the property is connected to municipal water and sewer mains (and/or has wells and a septic tank or field) … if the water is heated by “bottled” gas, gas lines, or electricity … the condition and construction of the windows, doors, and roof … which appliances and what furniture shown in the pictures are included in the price … all of this matters to us and makes a difference regarding those properties that interest us.

Pictures are worth thousands of words. The more (current) pictures posted of a property, the more (or less) attractive it will appear. Pictures of any land included with the property are nice, but – by and large – we’ll want to see the inside of properties where we may live.

Yes, we’ll be noticing those cracks in the walls, the missing tiles on the floors, the damp mold on the ceiling, the condition of the roof and its wood, cement, or metal beams. Why shouldn’t we?

Most properties in Portugal and Spain have their own peculiar quirks, as there are few (if any) real building codes required … especially in the smaller towns and villages. With steps of different heights and widths, and slight little step-downs or -ups between rooms, mobility can be a major accommodation factor. Even those of us without wheelchairs have tripped, slipped, or bumped into something all-too-often. It’s part of the idiosyncratic “character” of these curious properties.

While “location, location, location” and its condition are factors in determining a property’s price, all too often, “time is of the essence” for us. Our time is limited when we’ve come to the country, primarily, to find a property.

So, after viewing a property, ask your property agent get back to you quickly with answers to your questions, reassurances about your concerns, and any helpful information that they can provide.

“The real estate market in Portugal offers the luxurious, the good, the average, and the mediocre … with prices adjusted to the condition of the property,” asserts one local, “depending on what you are looking for, where you’re looking, and your available budget.

”That’s why proper property representation is vital.

Or, as our British friends would say, “bloody brilliant!”

Shared here are personal observations, experiences, and happenstance that actually occurred to us as we moved from the USA to begin a new life in Portugal and Spain. Collected and compiled in EXPAT: Leaving the USA for Good, the book is available in hardcover, paperback, and eBook editions from Amazon and most online booksellers.

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