When we were first arranging to come here, people would ask me what my greatest fear about it all was.

The answer was about my ability to learn Portuguese. I figured I could handle whatever else would be thrown at me. You just figure it out or ask someone or make your best guess and move on. But learning a new language is really the first time I’ve tried to force my brain to learn something completely new and major in decades. In business, you learn things bit by bit. It’s a slow process of accumulation. But when learning a new language, you’re being asked to memorize completely new stuff over and over again.

Even though the famous language struggles of the Chinese make me feel a little better about it all, thus far, I’ve discovered my fear wasn’t unfounded. I am often exposed to a new word in Portuguese and then ten seconds later am asked to repeat it. And it’s just not there. It’s like I never heard it. After three, four, or sometimes ten times, it starts to sink in. And that’s just one word!

Then they ask me to string a bunch of words together to form a sentence. There don’t seem to be many rules about what goes where and why. The Portuguese just put it in a certain order and you’re supposed to just remember it, not try to figure out why.

They also throw in these “o’s” and “a’s” from out of the blue. “This is my dog” translates to: “este é o meu cão.” Where the hell did that “o” come from? It’s just my cow –er dog! Este meu cao! That’s it! I don’t need no damn “o” providing some sort of exclamation! He’s a lousy dog anyway, he doesn’t deserve an “o.” Actually, we don’t have a dog right now. I miss having a dog, which translates to: “Sinto falta de um cão.” Where’s the “o” now homies?

On top of all that, every noun is either male or female, which is common in lots of languages. But why? Who the hell came up with that bright idea? And why is “ovo” (egg) a male noun? And “guerra” (war) a female noun? You can’t tell me violence isn’t a male-dominated activity. I’d commit some male-dominated activity on the numbskull that decided every noun needed a sex.

Like Spanish, if a word ends in an “o,” it’s probably a male word, and “a” for female. Probably. “Um mapa” (a map) and “um dia” (a day) are both male, just to mention a couple of exceptions.

Most of the time when I say things in Portuguese to Portuguese, I get a blank stare in return. Carolyn’s pronunciation is much better than mine. Hell, I don’t pronounce so well in English. Anyway, you try saying “carrrrrrrlllllo” (car), or “lhes,” (them), which is pronounced just like it’s spelled. It sounds like I’m having a seizure.

Anyway, I’m posting all of these Chinese signs to make me feel better.

The Portuguese can’t quite keep up with the Chinese in the Signs Hijinks category, but we’ve found some of the translations on ads and products to be pretty funny. Enjoy!

As most of you know, Carolyn’s profession was in interior design. Before we moved, she must’ve been asked a hundred times if we were going to be on House Hunters International. Lo and behold, ultimately the answer is, “yes!”

We just wrapped up filming for our episode, which won’t air for another six months or so, and we won’t be able to see a lick of it until it does. We’ll certainly let everyone know when we find out the air date. Alas, we can’t reveal a whole lot about the show ahead of time.

So we can’t say much other than to see we had a great experience! Stay tuned!

 

We interrupt our regular blog-casting to bring you the latest hot news. In this case, very hot!

On our way to lunch after wrapping up a week of filming (more on that later), we spotted a plume of smoke about six miles from our house. Before we were done eating, the TVs in the restaurant were all tuned to the news, showing the fire that was maybe three miles from where we were. After lunch, we drove home after watching the smoke roil from the road for a while, and turned on the news.

Since we still don’t understand a lick of spoken Portuguese (unless it’s our tutor speaking to us very slowly and clearly, something the rest of the Portuguese simply never otherwise do) and not knowing how big it was going to get, we used it as an opportunity to practice our evacuation procedures, which involved a lot of screaming and shouting and running into each other while throwing photos, laptops, and dirty underwear into a couple of beleaguered suitcases. It was good for us to practice, because we learned that, for instance, our beloved car Marco will actually not go through the metal gate properly if the gate isn’t opened, especially when the occupants of said car are screaming in terror at the top of their lungs.

Just kiddin’ about most of that. We did practice an evacuation though, especially since we’re not familiar with Portuguese evacuation procedures. They might be broadcasting from a truck, “Stay in your homes, all roads are closed!” and we might think they’re saying, “Get out of your houses NOW! And don’t forget to open the gate!” Plus, since there are only two roads that lead from the peninsula we’re on, one doesn’t want to dawdle and end up in the middle of a 5 kilometer line of cars, especially when you’re the ones most likely to get picked for something bad. “Hey! Those guys are Americans! Send them through that firestorm first to see if we can get through!”

One very large advantage to selling everything you own and having almost nothing to your name besides beleaguered luggage, a couple of laptops, and dirty underwear, is that you can pile everything important into your car in a matter of minutes and be on your way.

Fortunately, the fire was contained by first 50, and then 100, and then 200 “bombeiros,” which translates to “firefighters,” but was also the war cry of the Ukutacks, who lived next to the Eiros and didn’t like them.

They also used firefighting planes, which we could see dropping water from our new perch on top of the Sesimbra Castle, which we figured was as safe as anyplace seeing as how it hadn’t burned down yet even after hundreds of years.

In any case, here are some “during and after” pictures of the conflagration. We’re happy to report we’re safe and sound, and also that our underwear is now clean.

Anyway, that’s the last time I’ll ever toss the fireplace ashes into the woods!

What will they find of our civilization 3,000 years from now? The way things are going, it might be a surprise if anyone’s left to find anything. Maybe it’ll be a planet of apes, or dinosaurs will make a comeback. Or, maybe earth will be a way station for spacefaring human beings who overcame all of our niggling little problems. Although I think the ape thing might be more plausible. When I was growing up, I read all sorts of science fiction which made it look as if anything past the year 2000 was going to be full of space flights and flying cars, or teleportation and enormous gleaming silver cities, some of which would float on clouds or be buried deep in the ocean. Sadly, those things are excised from budgets built on supporting an aging population and blowing up everyone else. Even worse, scientists are now telling us that our planet is going through its sixth major extinction event. And The Great Barrier Reef was just declared dead. Dead!

I think it seems surreal (or unreal) because we’ve been conditioned to think that extinction happens all at once. But when it happens over a period of decades –which still isn’t long at all, it’s just not, like tomorrow– a lot of us just shrug and hope it’s fake news. Those durn scientists, always getting in the way of our wanton decimation of the planet!

But I digress. On our trip to Porto, we stopped in Conimbriga, which is an ancient pre-Roman settlement in Portugal. The ruins include some homes that were absolute mansions. One can only imagine how amazing they might have looked two or three thousand years ago.

 

 

We enjoyed the visit. The cool thing about it was that we simply saw some signs that, roughly translated, said, “There’s some really old shit over here!” on our drive home from Porto, and so we wandered in and were delighted to find this very cool place.

Carolyn and I are endlessly fascinated both by ancient Roman ruins as well as castles. They’re all just so cool! They are two of the big reasons why we love traveling around Europe. The other reason is that I’m a lot less likely to get caught if I stay mobile.

 

One of the main attractions of the Porto area is the Douro Valley, where vineyards are as prolific as a politician’s lies, which is an apt metaphor because they both produce a product that provides feelings of euphoria for some, but also nausea and vomiting if you’ve swallowed too much of it.

It truly is a beautiful place, as these pictures will attest. We simply drove around, taking in the seemingly endless hills of vineyards. The only negative to the whole trip was the lunch we designated as our anniversary lunch. While the food in Portugal is generally awesome, this one meal happened to be the worst we’ve had (there has to be a worst one, right?). We both had cod, and it tasted very much the way the big flats of cod smell in the supermarket, which attracts flies like politician’s — oh wait, I already used that metaphor. The next day we went to a restaurant in Porto, and decided to replace the dinner as our anniversary meal. Lo and behold, it was probably the best meal we’ve had since we’ve been here! Which means, in the end, the food there was just average for us. Ha!

Anyway, without further ado, we bring you… Douro Valley.

 

On the way back, we were subjected to the hardest rainstorm either of us have been in, especially for such a protracted time. The rain got so bad, we took a cue from some other drivers and parked under an underpass to wait it out. It went on for so long we started making out because, hey, it was our anniversary.

And yes, there is such a thing as a “ugal.” It is an Indonesian instrument, played with a small hammer. Indeed, it’s a little known fact that Port didn’t get its name from Portugal, it was the other way around. Someone named Hyierin Lisboa was playing an ugal in a bar in a little town on the coast, and some drunkard stumbled over the thing and spilled an entire bottle of port everywhere. When he came to, they asked him if he knew where he was, and he could only drunkenly stammer, “Hyierin…. Lisboa… Port… Ugal…”

And it stuck!

Anyway, now you can use this picture combination next time you’re playing picture-charades and get the word Portugal! You see, this blog is not only informative, it helps you with games that don’t really exist!

For our fourth anniversary we decided to motor up to Porto, which is about a three hour drive from Lisbon, and is Portugal’s second-largest city. It’s also famous for port wine, which was named after Porto (except someone forgot the “o”). Porto reminded me of a smaller version of Lisbon: hilly, the same architecture for the most part, some narrow streets, and lots of Portuguese people in it too for some reason.

We took a couple of day trips outside the Porto area, but for this post these pictures are all within the city center.

Well it is.

 

The People

(at least when they’re not driving)

When we first talked about moving to Portugal, our main considerations were the weather, the location, the cost of living, and the safety. Much to our surprise, we’ve discovered that our favorite thing about the country is none of those.

In a previous blog I wrote that the Portuguese reminded me of Eeyore, who is completely lovable and yet oblivious to the fact. Somehow, he manages to be morose, self-deprecating, and continuously depressed, and still be totally adorable.

The Portuguese are not quite so gloomy, of course, but they love to flail themselves over their negative nature. I’ve had multiple Portuguese self-criticize their culture as pessimistic. They tend to be a little somber and reserved. They are not overtly humorous, and they’re quick to criticize their own people collectively.

But as an American who enjoys pondering the differences in cultures and wondering how they got where they are and how it all works, I actually look at the Portuguese pessimism and find it endearing.

Typically, pessimism is categorized as a negative word. But that’s just because people doing that categorizing are being pessimistic, ha! Seriously, one of the cornerstones of my personal philosophies centers around humility. The employees at the company I ran for years can attest to that. I ranted about it and built programs around it until they were begging for me to become arrogant.

Almost every negative personal interaction I’ve seen has at least one of the combatants suffering from a lack of humility. A lack of humility can mean arrogance, or it can mean a lack of self-confidence, which often looks like arrogance. A lack of humility causes many people to decide what’s right for everyone else, and they often stop caring about contrary thoughts and ideas. A lack of humility usually results in the judging of others, and self-justifies all sorts of bad behavior.

So while pessimism might be a worrisome trait for some, it’s a flip side from the lack of humility. And if you believe, like I do, that the lack of humility is at the core of almost all bad human interactions, you tend to embrace the pessimism and love the people for it. If nothing else, I’d take it hands down over a culture of arrogance any day of the week.

That said, not every cultural behavior here is the best. The Portuguese tend to be pretty pushy and a little bit rude in stores. I’ve had people step right in front of me while I’m standing in front of a grocery store display with nary a “desculpa” (excuse me). We’ve watched them bully to the front of the line multiple times. I’ve offered up a “desculpa” probably 20 to 1 for inadvertent contact, they usually just ignore it all and keep going.

We were told by the prior owner of our house that it might take five years for a neighbor to greet you, and another five years before they engage in a conversation. Four and-a-half years to go, and he’s right so far! They also don’t tend to greet strangers with a lot of initial and overt warmth, but they’re almost always polite. It’s rare that I’ve passed a stranger and not been the first to wish them a “bom dia,” although they almost always respond in kind with a nice, sometimes shy, smile.

But it’s on the road where some of them can be quite aggressive or downright rude. Especially, and I kid you not, females in Peugeots. It’s a running joke and oft proven true that if someone cuts us off or tailgates us while chomping at the bit to pass, it’s probably a female in a Peugeot. We once had someone honk repeatedly at us simply for slowing down to look for a parking space. That time it wasn’t a female in a Peugeot, which actually surprised us a little.

Recently, Carolyn and I were crossing a street. When we entered the street, the walk sign was green. By the time we got to the other side, it had already turned red (they apparently don’t time them the same way as they do in the states). The driver waiting for us to cross (and we weren’t walking that slow… we may be retired, but we’re not decrepit!) gave us a significant piece of his mind. Our Portuguese isn’t good enough to understand streams of invective, but we got the gist of it. Being delayed two additional seconds in a car is enough to irritate many Portuguese for some reason.

I’ve also had high beams flashed at me even as I am passing a car on the right. Take a chill pill! For some reason, once some Portuguese get behind the wheel, all their pent up aggressions come to the fore. Even fellow Portuguese have complained about this to me.

But, the warmth is there as soon as you engage them one on one. Other than the above, we’ve found most of them to be basically decent and kind, and more than willing to assist when asked. Once you peel back that shy veneer, they’re humble, gracious, and generous. They have a basic decency about them, which I think is just one of the reasons Portugal is considered one of the safest countries in the world.

They do get a little baffled about the American sense of humor, as well as our casualness. They’re generally a little more proper than Americans, I suppose. Although I do really like the cheek-kiss greetings. They convey warmth and a willingness to share personal space.

I’ve been asked by other Americans what the Portuguese think of Americans. Aside from the virtually universal detesting of Trump (a fact that is true of most Europeans), they love America, and they love Americans. It’s pretty funny that in Portuguese “trumpa” literally means “shit;” I’ve heard it exclaimed with vigor more than once when the subject of politics comes up. They also know more about American politics than most Americans, and all without fake news, imagine that!

The best analogy I can come up with about how they feel about the US is how you might feel about living in the same neighborhood as a very wealthy family. This family has a house so big they need hired help to keep it clean. They drive fancy cars that can go far faster than the law allows and gobble up fuel like cruise ships. They have all the toys their hearts desire, and want for nothing.

Except they’re miserable. They work too much. Their kids are on drugs. They’re constantly fighting with each other. The company he owns pays barely enough for the employees to make ends meet. They have affairs, and the man even brags to his buddies about the women he can grope because he’s rich and famous. Despite being given all the worldly possessions they’d ever want, or perhaps because of that, they appreciate very little, and act very entitled. A recent study proved that empathy weakens as wealth and privilege grow. Poorer Americans think if they could just get there they’d be different. I think the Portuguese know that’s simply not true.

I think that in the end the Portuguese look at America just like that, and while they’re quick to acknowledge that having all that stuff might be kinda cool, are pretty much just content to be living in Portugal. I know we are.

Anyway, I never would have thought that one of the most endearing things about Portugal would’ve been its people. They fly well under the radar, so no one seems to give them a lot of consideration. But I feel right at home among them, and in all my travels, I’ve never encountered a culture that made me feel so comfortable.

 

Location, Geography, and Flora & Fauna

Much of the reason we chose to move to Portugal was so we could use it as a launching pad for exploring Europe. You wanna quick trip to Rome? No problem! For under 200 bucks and in under three hours, we can have you twirling spaghetti and splattering tomato sauce all over your shirt like any obnoxious tourist. You wanna fly to Paris, or London, or Berlin, or drive to Spain? No problemo, señor! It’s all very quick, and comparatively inexpensive, especially when comparing it to a trip from the states.

However, now that we’re in Portugal, our desire to leave it in order to explore has been tempered, at least for the time being. We’re already in paradise… it’s hard to want to leave paradise, y’know? I’m sure we’ll get our wanderlust back into gear after a while, but with temperatures in the 80’s most days and near-continuous blue skies –not to mention some of Europe’s best beaches less than ten minutes away– it’s easy to see why we’re content to stay put for now. Besides, we’re still settling into our house (taking our own sweet time… we are retired after all), and our tourist visa has long expired, meaning there’s a chance that if we venture outside the country we might get hung up in the famous Portuguese government bureaucracy upon our return and not be allowed back in. Don’t worry; we’re completely legal, we are just skirting on the edges of the system until we can get our one-year visas nailed down.

But back to the beaches: I mean, how can you beat this kind of weather plus be this close to beautiful beaches? The only downside to the beaches is that the Atlantic ocean is pretty chilly. Not the deep-freeze-your-bones cold of the Pacific Ocean along Oregon’s coast, but you either need to be wearing a wetsuit, be impervious to cold , or be a kid (because they lack nerve endings) in order to withstand much time in the water. On the plus side, there are not rows of condos or hotels or tourist traps lining the beaches. You simply drive to a spot and walk on a beach that extends as far as the eye can see. With just a short hike, you can pretty much have a beach all to yourself. Carolyn and I drive down to the beach about once a week, weather permitting, just to sit and stare and listen to the waves, and wonder how the hell we got so lucky to have a life like this. Okay, luck and a lot of hard work leading up to it, but our gratitude knows no bounds.

There are more or less two Portugals, aside from the small differences in regions. One is Lisbon, or most any Portuguese city, and the other is the countryside. Images of Portugal usually start with the “Tram 28” cable car in Lisbon, made famous for its bright yellow color, a route that takes it along some famous Lisbon sights, and the extremely crowded and uncomfortable seating. I think the Portuguese probably make a little fun of the tourists when they ride Tram 28. “Eles adoram o transporte público mais desconfortável que temos!” Which means: “They love the most uncomfortable public transit we have!”

You also certainly can’t ignore the dominance of the terra cotta roofs, which not only scream “Portugal!” but make any view over the rooftops quite striking.

Since Lisbon is a very old city and extremely compacted, there aren’t a lot of green spaces within the city itself. Certainly there are some parks and green things here and there, especially on the outskirts. But it takes a trip into the countryside to see the real beauty of Portugal’s flora.

We’re very fortunate to live out in the country. Outside my upper-floor office window I can gaze across a sea of green, and beyond that, the ocean (on a clear day anyway). The trees aren’t tall evergreens like in Oregon, but it’s still green and lush.

A walk along the road or on the many paths that criss-cross the area between our home and the ocean reveals wildflowers in a multitude of amazing colors. I love the blues and purples that many of them feature. Some of the fauna has a scrub brush flavor to it, but unlike some desert-like areas, the green dominates the landscape.

As to the flora, since we live in the country, we can hear plenty of barking dogs, honking (and hissing) geese, warbling turkeys, clucking chickens, buzzing bees, and a large variety of birdsong. It’s never overbearing or annoying, especially since we know it comes with the territory. Besides, a short walk will take you to a place where the only sound you hear is your breath especially if you just walked up a big hill (okay, maybe a little one too, we aren’t getting any younger), and the wind. (Not the breaking kind. Okay, maybe a little of that too. Again, we’re not getting any younger.)

While the following isn’t something I’d normally be happy about, I do appreciate the fact that there are few large wild animals in Portugal, at least in the area where we live. Aside from the various insects, I’ve only seen an occasional jackrabbit and of course there are plenty of birds. Okay, I did stumble across a badger once… and okay, maybe it was just roadkill (it still made me jump back a couple of steps- it was fresh and looked alive!), but a badger is definitely not an animal I want to meet without tire tracks running down its back.

Badgers are not something anyone should want to meet in the wild. In fact, the Narnia High School Graduating Class of 2015 voted Bennie Badger the Most Likely to Get Sentenced to Twenty Years to Life. They are mean, low to the ground, and have claws that would turn Scarface into Noface, even despite the gunfire from his “little friend,” because badgers are impervious to bullets. They also can leap the tallest ant mound in a single bound, and can defuse an atomic bomb in under three minutes, blindfolded. They’d also take on an elephant if one walked too close, or tried to start an argument about politics. Badgers are notoriously conservative, and elephants, as we all know, are extremely liberal. So while there may be no lions or tigers or bears, oh my! badgers are at the top of my list of things to avoid in Portugal.

But other than badgers, there aren’t many animals to be afraid of. Why is that good? Well, when you walk on those paths and find yourself all alone, armed with nothing but your wits and a cell phone, you appreciate the fact that there are no bears or cougars (or even younger women) or other predators hiding in the bushes ready to pounce. I don’t know if it’s because humanity has dominated the area for thousands of years or whether the fauna and proximity to the ocean just isn’t conducive to a lot of wildlife, but it makes me feel a little safer knowing that the only thing I have to worry about is falling to my death by accidentally stumbling over a cliff. Especially if I’m being chased by a tire-free badger.

In the end, the flora, fauna, and location of Portugal make it our país paradisíaco – paradise country!

But despite this wealth of riches, there is still one more thing… the thing we like best about Portugal!

The Climate

Lisbon’s climate is defined as Subtropical-Mediterranean, and features short and very mild winters and then warm summers. They had me at Subtropical.

Its climate seems very similar to San Diego’s, often considered the city with mainland America’s best weather. The average annual temperature is about 70 degrees during the day, and 56 at night. It doesn’t get much below 50 degrees during the day even in January, and is classified as having Europe’s warmest winters. In those winters, Lisbon has about three times more sun duration than in the northern half of Europe. In August, the warmest month, it gets up to about 90, although it can certainly top 100.

While you could make a case for Hawaii’s climate being true paradise, there’s something to be said for some variation and seasonality. Instead of 80 degrees year-round, we get a reprieve during the winter, and without having to deal with snow. The reprieve also provides a built-in reminder as to why you enjoy eight months of warmth and sunshine so much.

We’ve been able to go to the beach since April. We still have had bouts of rain, but as Oregonians, we actually think that’s pretty cool too. It just never seems to last more than three to four days, as opposed to the October-through-June drizzle of Oregon.

We’re especially fortunate to be living just outside of Sesimbra. So far we’ve seen some hot spells where Lisbon is about 4-5 degrees warmer. Plus we have a steady breeze due to both our proximity to the ocean as well as our being on a peninsula, where we’re virtually surrounded on three sides by ocean.

Whenever there’s a hot spell, we spend a lot of time in our pool. As we do so, we constantly marvel at how fortunate we are to be living in what can only be described as a permanent vacation. Sure, since we elect not to wear full-body sunscreen armor like the folks to the right, so our skin will probably age and get crinkled faster than if we were in rainy Oregon, and what little hair I have may get sun-bleached blonde… okay, maybe just from grey to white. But our goal isn’t to create nice-looking corpses. We’re having a great time, and the climate plays a big part in that.

 

As you can tell, we adore the climate, and that alone would keep us here. As it happens, there are two more things that we love even more about Portugal!