Already There

The process of emigrating to Portugal is an exercise in patience and frustration.

I’ve hired a service to guide me through it, and they've been helpful. But even so, I often feel adrift, unsure of what comes next or when. There's paperwork, and then more paperwork. Documents that need to be apostilled - whatever the hell that means. Dates that depend on other dates. Gates that won't open until others close. Appointments to be made but no slots available. Background checks that sound ominous but that I’m assured are routine. It feels like all the planets and stars need to align perfectly for any of this to actually happen. I'm someone who likes to do - to move, to solve, to check things off - but this process doesn't care. The timeline stretches and compresses in ways I can't control, and it's all just… ugh!

Then there's the house. I thought I'd never leave this place and so didn't really worry about that wallpaper that’s beginning to peel, or the roof that’s missing a few shingles (who isn't?), or the empty, underground oil tank in the backyard that’s likely now a superfund site, or the driveway that’s looking like concrete tectonic plates colliding into miniature mountain ranges. But now it all needs to be dealt with, quickly.

So when it gets to be too much, I do something that probably sounds ridiculous: I open Google Street View and walk through the city I've chosen as home. Viana do Castelo sits in northern Portugal, where the Lima River meets the Atlantic. It's not on most tourist itineraries, which is part of why I love it already. It's a working class city - small but vibrant, full of people living their lives rather than performing for visitors.

I usually start at the Praça da República, the old central square. Intimate, human-scaled, lined with buildings that have seen centuries. I can imagine sitting there with a coffee, watching the daylight change while Newt sits next to me, whining because he's ready to GO! We've become regulars, recognizing and being recognized by our new neighbors.

From the square, I set off on one of the tight streets that radiate from it. I find parks tucked into corners. Tiled facades on buildings. Laundry hung on balconies. The river and ocean are always close, accessible from almost anywhere. I picture Newt trotting along beside me, nose down in the cobblestones, finding his favorite spots.

The Santuário de Santa Luzia sits above the town on a hill. I haven't climbed it yet, not virtually anyway. I'm saving that for when I can feel my legs burn and see the view open up for real.

I've also been touring apartments, virtually. Some are perfect - light-filled, with views of the river, or tucked into those narrow streets I've been walking on my laptop. I wish I could rent one right now, before the good ones disappear. Not yet. The paperwork isn't done. My visa still needs to be approved. The house still needs to sell. July is far away and right in front of me, and between here and there is a lot of waiting.

In real life, I’m not entirely on my own. I've found my way to an online expat community - people who've already made this leap. When the process feels impossible, I remind myself that they've navigated the same maze and come out the other side. I can’t wait to meet them in person. But in my head, Newt and I are already there.