A minha vida em Portugal

* If you’re landing here for the first time, this is the 5th of several posts describing my first visit to Portugal to decide whether I’d want to move here.
If you want to read this section in order, start here: Chegada a Lisboa para explorar
And here’s the beginning of the whole story: Onde esta história começou

The trip to Setúbal (which is pronounced more like Stúbl) went pretty smoothly, and it wasn’t long before I fell in love!

I booked a small apartment in the historic district, which is very cute with a lot of pedestrians-only streets and narrow travessas. Once I got to that area, I was stopping to check the map on my phone practically every 2 minutes, because it felt kind of like a maze!

The host met me at the door, which was super convenient for him because he lives right next door. That worked out because he was entirely respectful and very friendly, and was more present as a host than at any of my other stays on this trip. He reminded me of what airbnb used to be about – actually meeting people and sharing experiences.

Our conversations were challenging (in a good way!) and relied heavily on google translate. He’s from Belgium, so fluent in French, and I think knew some Spanish, but was just learning Portuguese, while I only spoke English, plus the tiny bits of Spanish that I remember from high school. I was very proud of myself when I was able to produce a couple of super-basic sentences here and there that he could actually understand!

Setúbal is a decent sized city, about an hour by train from Lisboa. Compared to São Martinho do Porto, it felt like it has every amenity I would need on any sort of regular basis.

This is the part of town that I spent the vast majority of my time exploring.

There are a lot more residential areas and parks to north and east of this section, but most of the times when I headed out to go more than 15 minutes in any given direction, it was toward the Parque Urbano de Albarquel to walk along the sandy beach.

The best part was further to the southwest. As far as I could tell, the end of that slanted wall from the beach up to the sidewalk was the end of the official parque.

But when the tide is out, you can keep on walking.

I never got my timing right to check it, but I think that at low tide, you can walk all the way to Praia de Albarquel, at the bottom left of the map above. This seems to be the first place to go underwater as the tide rolls back in! If you zoom in closely enough, you can see a group of people on the trail on the other side of the water – they started wading across in what I thought was really cold water!

And this beach is a big part of why I fell in love.

It was about a 30-40 minute walk from where I was staying to the end of the beach, so I didn’t make it there every day. Most days, though, I made time to go sit by the waterfront in Jardim Engenheiro Luís da Fonseca, which was just like a 6 minute walk from the apartment.

I loved how many other people seemed to be doing the same thing I was – just going to sit by the water and watch the sun set.

I have a truly ridiculous number of photos of dramatic clouds and sunsets taken from this park 😂

Writing this post is making me want to get back to the water!

Another thing I loved in Setúbal was the Mercado do Livramento. After the municipal market in São Martinho do Porto, this seemed HUGE! I didn’t take any photos or videos, but you can find some great photos shared on the google maps page if you want to get a sense of it.

I did take several photos of the stuff I bought there, that now look pretty unimpressive 😂

So this is a loaf of fresh bread, olives, dates, a tomato, broccoli, strawberries, a jar of piri piri (hot sauce), and a pastry that I now recognize as a bolo de berlim. Then, I didn’t know the name but thought it looked yummy! (And it was!)

Again, in hindsight, this seems like a strange thing to be so excited about that I had to take photos 😂

But I had never been to a farmer’s market in the US that was anywhere near this big, with this quality and range of products, and at a price that’s comparable to or lower than grocery store prices. I know it’s a matter of scale and policies in the US, but I associate farmer’s markets with paying twice as much for the same food. It’s often higher quality, but that’s still a barrier.

(And this isn’t “ooh, Portugal is so cheap”, which is offensive. This is a not-yet-well-informed policy critique! I don’t know why the prices for produce in Portuguese markets are comparable to grocery store prices, but I love it. But that’s a whole side rant!)

There’s also a ton of public art all around town.

That statue is the choco, or cuttlefish, which seems to be one of their mascots. One of the dishes that Setúbal is known for is choco frito. They cut the meat of the cuttlefish into strips, bread them, fry them, and dip them in mayonnaise. The choco itself doesn’t have a particularly strong flavor, and it’s protein-dense and low fat, at least until you fry it!

The other mascot of the town is the dolphin, or golfinho.

Setúbal is located on an estuary, where the Sado River meets the Atlantic Ocean. And there’s a pod of golfinhos that live there. I heard all about it, but did not go out on the boat tour to see them.

And statues weren’t the only type of public art in town. One drizzly evening, I heard something, and went out to see where the sound was coming from.

A group of older men were huddled together under some umbrellas at one of the restaurants nearby, singing about the spring.

As a side note, I surprised myself when I played this while picking which photos and videos to include here – I actually understand what they’re singing! At the time, I probably would have recognized “primavera” if I had been able to distinguish it as a word. But my brain wasn’t registering that much at that time.

Now, I understand most of it:

Quando chega a primavera, é bonito [can’t quite make that last bit out]

When spring arrives, it’s pretty!

I was originally scheduled to spend a week and two days in Setúbal, but I talked to the host, and the apartment was available for another week.

So I extended my stay! I was there from 13 to 29 March, so just a little over 2 weeks.

Setúbal was the first place I felt like I could love living in. To be fair, Coimbra got kind of short changed by me coming down with covid, and I didn’t give Porto a fair chance. But I really did fall in love with Setúbal.

The airbnb host was fabulous, and if you ever plan to visit Setúbal, I’ll happily share his info! He invited me out to join him and a friend who speaks English for dinner at a place with great choco frito one evening.

And when he had a day available, he invited me to take a trip out to the Farol do Cabo Espichel, driving through the Parque Natural da Arrábida. Along the way, we stopped (A) at the ruins of a fort, and (B) a scenic viewpoint near Convento de Nossa Senhora da Arrábida.

As usual, the views were absolutely stunning. This video is from the first stop, at the 7ª Bataria de costa, the abandoned fort.

The weather was starting to warm up, and we would be heading south from here, so I found a groomer to take Mocha to while we were there. She did a fabulous job!

At this point, I feel like I’m rambling, even though I have so many more photos I could include! I don’t really want to end this post – it’s bringing back all of the feelings from that time that I don’t really have words for. It just felt right, like I could be really happy here, and those feelings hit as hard as they did because I hadn’t felt that way in a while.

So I’ll wrap up with photos of displays along the wall at the southwest end of the Av. Luisa Todi. The text is in both Portuguese and English, so you can learn a little more about the local fish if you zoom in!

* If you’re landing here for the first time, this is the fourth of several posts describing my first visit to Portugal to decide whether I’d want to move here.
If you want to read this section in order, start here: Chegada a Lisboa para explorar
And here’s the beginning of the whole story: Onde esta história começou

The next stop on my journey was a small town along the “Silver Coast”. This was the one point at which traveling by train became a limiting factor.

After visiting Porto, I wanted to check out a smaller coastal town, but at least half way to Lisboa. They’re not really that far apart when compared to anything in the US, but the northern part of the country is known for being colder and rainier.

But, there aren’t a whole lot of train lines that make it to coastal towns in that part of the country.

São Martinho do Porto is one of the few stations that fit that description. (I think Figueira da Foz is the only other option, so I picked the one further south!)

We wound up back in Coimbra long enough to transfer to our first trip on a regional train, and Mocha was NOT happy!

We learned that there are several different types of trains on the Comboios de Portugal (CP) lines:

• Alfa Pendular (AP) – these are nicer, make fewer stops, and cost more. The are two main lines that runs from Braga in the north to Faro in the south, and meeting in Lisboa.
• Intercidades (IC)
• InterRegional (IR)
• Regional (R) – these are the least fancy train cars, make the most stops, go to the most destinations, and cost the least.

I don’t remember whether we were on AP or IC trains before, but they were smoother to get onto. There’s a smaller gap, you step on, and then go up some stairs. And I think they’re a little quieter at that point, too.

That regional train from Coimbra to São Martinho do Porto was pretty noisy, with a bigger gap between the platform and stepping on… And part of that was because the first stair was lower, not matched well to the platform height. So it felt more natural to step over onto the second step up.

I’m not sure which part of that was the issue, but Mocha DID NOT want to get onto that thing!

I literally had to pick her up and put her on the train!

She’s around 22.5 kg / 50ish lbs, so I’m glad I’m stronger than I look 😂

Also, I don’t think I’ve mentioned my packing situation yet. I was there from Feb in Porto through April in the Algarve, so I packed for a range of temperature conditions. Plus I was lugging Mocha’s food, bowls, and bed around.

So I had a very large wheeled suitcase – like close to the maximum size allowed for checked bags without an extra fee. Plus I had a backpack that was the maximum size for a carry on, with her bed rolled up and tied to the bottom of it.

Getting onto this train was a production 😂

But we got there. And again, the airbnb host picked us up from the train station. This time, it wouldn’t have been too far to walk, but I think the weather was looking a little iffy.

This was a cute duplex with a nice balcony.

Again, the scenery was stunning.

That photo was taken a bit north of town, overlooking the Praia da Gralha.

I think I may have mentioned this already, but I love to walk and explore! But as we were about half-way down the hill to this beach, which was completely empty in the middle of the day in the first week of March, I realized that it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to be there all by myself, with no one knowing where I was!

The power of the Atlantic Ocean was kind of overwhelming. I kept going to walk along the beach for a bit, as long as I had come that far! But we didn’t get too close to the water, because it felt like it could easily wash us out to sea if we weren’t careful.

The town itself is situated around a neat little cove that creates a calm swimming beach.

The blue circle is where I stayed, and it was about a 10 minute walk downhill to get to the northern tip of the cove beach.

Again, this was early March, so we didn’t even consider going swimming, though we did see some other people all the way in the water. Mocha had fun splashing a little bit, but mostly just loved zooming around in the sand.

Everyone that I interacted with was very friendly, but this is a really small town. And while I was there in the off season, I got the sense that it would be overrun with vacationers in the summer months. I can’t say exactly what gave me that impression, other than it reminded me of being in a college town during the break between semesters.

This was the first time that a host mentioned the Mercado Municipal and recommended that I visit. It was pretty small – my memory says fewer than 10 vendors, though I’m not sure that’s actually accurate! And, it’s a small town, so it makes sense that it wouldn’t be huge.

While I wasn’t super impressed with their market, that influenced me to check out the markets in every other place I visited.

Another distinctive feature of this particular apartment was the wooden shutters instead of the regular blinds.

When I first arrived in Lisbon, I was fascinated with the blackout blinds on the outside of the windows. But those are so common here that, when my storage was getting close to full, I went back and deleted those first “oooh, this is so cool” photos!

The place I stayed in this village had these gorgeous solid wooden shutters to block the sun out of my bedroom, which seems less common.

And then there was the food…

I had my first Portuguese hot dog (cachorro) here:

And I think this might have been my first time getting pizza in Portugal, too.

Yes, that is sliced egg and whole olives on there. If nothing else, this visit confirmed for me that any American who gets weird about pineapple on pizza is just announcing that they don’t travel.

Overall, I would absolutely go back to visit, and would happily rent the same place. But I didn’t fall in love with São Martinho do Porto.

I’m assuming this was one of those situations where the town is accessible because it’s popular for tourists, so I might find the town of my dreams along the Silver Coast if only I would buy a car.

But one of my dreams was to NOT have to own a car. So if I need a car to get there, could it really be the town of my dreams? I don’t think so.

I arrived here on Mon, 6 March, and was scheduled to travel on to my next destination on Mon, 13 March.

That was already looking like a less than fabulous travel day, because there’s no direct route from São Martinho do Porto to my next destination.

Using the Comboios Portugal app, it looked like 4-5 transfers to reach my destination.

4-5 times to get antsy about figuring out where I’m going and whether I’ll make it to the right platform on time.

Add another strike on top of that.

Whee!

I decided to nope out of that challenge. My host was able to give me contact info for a pet-friendly taxi driver who regularly runs to Lisboa and back.

And so, I scheduled with him in advance and took a taxi to the Sete Rios station in Lisboa. It cost around 100€, but it was entirely worth the reduced stress.

And, when I arrived at Sete Rios, I learned another important lesson:

Comboios de Portugal is not the only game in town!

Fertagus is another company that runs trains between Lisboa and Setúbal. They only run that one route, but that meant that I could take just one train instead of having to transfer in Pinhal Novo, AND I don’t think their workers were on strike!

Porto

* If you’re landing here for the first time, this is the third of several posts describing my first visit to Portugal to decide whether I’d want to move here.
If you want to read this section in order, start here: Chegada a Lisboa para explorar
And here’s the beginning of the whole story: Onde esta história começou

Side note – most cities don’t get the definite article (like “the”), but Porto does. So Lisboa is just Lisboa, but Porto is O Porto. My Portuguese teacher has offered no explanation, just that there seem to be as many exceptions to every rule as there are grammar rules!

My Coimbra post wrapped up with the challenges of making it out of town during a rail strike. We did have to make one connection in Porto, from the long distance train to an urban commuter train, but that was only about a 30 minute delay.

I whined a lot because I was still recovering from covid and ready to get to my next stop and relax, but it wasn’t a big deal.

Finally, we made it to the São Bento station, where google maps said I had like a 7 minute walk… Except I couldn’t take that route, because of some major construction project. And then, after I found my way around that, it was almost entirely uphill 😫

Honestly, the detour only made it like a 10 min walk, but I was tired and whiny and recovering from covid!

But we made it to a tiny little studio apartment right near the Torre dos Clérigos. That turned out to be another important lesson. That’s right in the historic downtown touristy area, which is very much not my vibe.

And that apartment had to be intended for people going downtown for a 1-2 night stay to party, because it was bad.

The neighborhood was cute.

But after I found dinner and relaxed for a bit, I headed for the shower. I don’t take the ridiculous 40 minute showers that I did as a child, but I do wash and condition my hair and wash my whole body (yes, legs and feet included, with a washcloth*!). I haven’t timed myself, but I’d say I generally need about 10, maybe 15 min.

By the time I finished just shampooing my hair, it was clear the drain wasn’t draining correctly.

By the time I finished the fastest shower I could, the whole bathroom floor was under water and it was threatening to flow into the hallway.

Anyway, that was a headache, but I was able to get a partial refund on that place and move to a different spot, just up the hill from the Porto Campanhã station. It was along a major street, not in a cute neighborhood, but it felt a lot more laid back than the touristy area and it was super close to the Metro and train station.

I have a ton of gorgeous photos of scenery, and Mocha in front of the scenery, to add below. But the only other memories that really stand out to me from Porto are the food!

My first morning there, I had breakfast at a cute little cafe where I tried shakshuka for the very first time. OMG, it was SO GOOD!

It’s also worth noting that I was not the only person dining outside at 50ish degrees F in February in Porto. More people were choosing to sit inside, but I wasn’t the only one bringing my dog along with me when I went looking for food!

And then, I had my first francesinha at a cute little restaurant over near the second place I stayed.

The decor was distinctive 😂

And then, there was the basic Portuguese restaurant just down the hill from the second spot, where I went for take-away a few times!

I have to admit, that I came to Porto with the assumption that it would NOT be where I would settle. Based just on weather and beaches, I expected to fall in love with the Algarve, the southern coast of Portugal. I wanted to be able to say I’ve been to Porto, but I didn’t really give it a fair chance as a potential place to live.

And so, I spent a lot of time walking to the scenic spots for photos!

These photos are all from Parque das Virtudes:

And these were from a few days later, when we walked along the Douro River for a while, and then crossed Ponte Luis I to the Vila Nova de Gaia side of the river.

The next leg of our journey went much more smoothly. It was an easy walk downhill to the train station, and the strike was over!

* If you also don’t feel clean unless you use a washcloth, plan to bring your own along when you visit Europe. I brought 6 cheap ones, and every place I stayed for more than a couple of days had a washing machine I could use.

A week in Coimbra

* If you’re landing here for the first time, this is the second of several posts describing my first visit to Portugal to decide whether I’d want to move here.
If you want to read in order, start here: Chegada a Lisboa para explorar

On Monday, we were off to spend a week in Coimbra, about mid-way between Lisboa and Porto. For the most part, I spent the week being impressed by fairly normal things because they were new to me. It wasn’t until I tried to leave that things became challenging!

In an earlier post, I mentioned that a former neighbor in Atlanta put Portugal on the map of places for me to consider, because she was so excited about moving here herself. And this is where she chose to make her new home. We’re not close enough for me to stay with her, and her container ship with her furniture hadn’t arrived yet at that point, anyway! But we did catch up a couple of times while I was in town.

One of the less fun parts of traveling by train here is that any dog that’s not in a carrier is required to wear a muzzle. I’m not sure whether that applies to recognized service dogs, but I didn’t (and still don’t) have the documentation for Mo to qualify as one here.

I knew about this ahead of time and came prepared, but Mocha was NOT a fan!

The airbnb host for this stay picked us up from the train station to give us a tour while driving us to the apartment, which was very kind.

I was even more thankful by the time we reached the apartment, because it was beyond comfortable walking distance from the train station, even for me. And I’m that friend that you can’t trust, because I’ll tell you something is not far, just a couple of blocks away, and the next thing you know we’ve gone two miles 😂

While I could take Mocha on the train with me, no problem, she’s not allowed on buses.

We were out in the ‘burbs, not the city center or anywhere near the University of Coimbra, “one of the oldest universities in continuous operation in the world.”

But, I like to walk when I’m not also carrying luggage for 8 weeks away! So we made it down to see the riverfront and met up a couple of times with my former neighbor.

Right off the bat the day I arrived, I went to the grocery store for a few things, and was the weird American taking a photo of eggs out on a regular shelf, not refrigerated 😂

And some video of the elevator in the building I was staying in, because it was the tiniest, scariest elevator I’ve ever been in 😂

We also found a super cute “pet café” near the apartment we stayed in, and Mocha got to be featured on their facebook page!

Unfortunately, on Thursday, I started feeling under the weather. And then just really crappy.

On Friday, I bought a covid test, and it came back positive.

I was fully vaccinated and wore my N95 mask in the airport, but I believed the hype about the quality of air filtration on airplanes. So once we were in the air, I took the mask off until it was time to land.

I’m assuming that’s when/how I finally caught it, and it just took a week for me to start feeling it.

Thankfully, it was a relatively mild case, and I mostly just felt exhausted.

Being sick all alone in a foreign country is not fun! But even out in the burbs, there were plenty of restaurants that were close enough to walk to for take-away.

And even in February, it’s normal for cafés to have tables set up for people to sit outside, and even leave the door open for airflow.

(In case you haven’t kept up on the actual science to know why that matters, think of the Rona as invisible smoke hanging in the air. You’re more likely to get sick / share it in enclosed and/or crowded spaces, just like you’re more likely to notice cigarette smoke. If you’re in a setting where you probably wouldn’t be bothered by someone smoking, then you’re probably not too likely to share/catch covid.)

So I spent most of the weekend in the apartment, and then had:

A horrible travel day!

I was scheduled to head off to Porto on Monday, 27 Feb.

I tried to extend my stay for a couple of days to give myself a little more time to recover, but the place was not available for even one more day.

Challenge #1: getting to the train station

In Portugal, the popular ride-sharing app is Bolt. Taxis are also pretty common, but I didn’t know how to call one and I didn’t know where the nearest taxi stand was.

Bolt has a “pet” option, which I thought meant it would be easy to book a ride for Mocha and me.

The driver rolled up, saw Mocha, and asked where her box is.

Do what now?

Mocha is a 22 kilo standard poodle. Any kennel that would be big enough to hold her would not fit in this man’s car!

His English wasn’t great, but it was better than my Portuguese. He drove off saying something about checking to see if he could borrow something, and then canceled the ride.

So I’m just standing on the curb with all my stuff, already locked the key in the apartment to “check out”, and feeling like shit because I was still recovering from covid, with no idea how the fuck I’m going to make it to the train station.

I texted the airbnb host to see if he could help. He had told me he would be out of town over the weekend, so I wasn’t sure he’d be back yet.

Thankfully, he was back in town and not busy. He came to pick us up and take us back to the train station. If you ever plan to visit Coimbra, let me know and I’ll give you Francisco’s Whatsapp number! The place wasn’t super fancy, but it was fine, and affordable, and I think there’s free parking!

So yay, that problem was solved!

Challenge #2: Strike!

I’ve come to learn that strikes are just a regular part of life here. And I fucking love that they have strong unions and worker protections. Right now, the crosswalks all around my neighborhood are painted with info about a general strike coming up on 11 Dezembro to protest a new law rolling back some worker protections. I’m looking forward to seeing how that goes, and hope they really do shut it down to protect their rights and their futures.

But this was my very first time showing up at a train station during a rail worker strike.

Traveling by train with a dog is pretty easy overall here. I have to buy a separate ticket for her, so it can double the price (some categories of trains discount pet tickets, others don’t).

But I have to buy the ticket at a ticket booth, not on their app, so that the agent can check her documents. Now I have a simple EU pet passport. Then, I was traveling with my 8 page USDA health certificate from the US, so it took a little longer for them to find the info that mattered. Either way, they want to see proof that the dog has its rabies vaccine.

I knew there would be a strike, and that there would be fewer trains running than usual. There would be a certain level of “essential” services, but there’s enough of a reduction to feel like a disruption.

I did not know that the ticket booths would all be closed.

So yet again, I’m freaking the fuck out!

Here I am in a city where I have nowhere to stay, and I’ll be paying for a place in Porto whether I make it there or not, and there’s no way for me to purchase a train ticket!

Thankfully, before I freaked out too badly, someone told me that you could just buy your ticket on the train during a strike.

But this wasn’t a railway employee, it was just some random person.

So I tried googling to see if I could find verification of this, but didn’t find a conclusive answer.

At this point, it’s probably helpful to know that I’m autistic. I have a more flexible relationship with rules than a lot of autistic folks, but I need to know what the rules are! The idea of jumping onto a train without knowing whether I was going to be allowed to buy a ticket or whether I could get a big fine was not cool.

Finally, the train rolled into the station.

As soon as it stopped and the staff stepped out onto the platform, I go running toward the first Comboios Portugal (CP) employee I see to ask how I can buy a ticket.

He tells me to get on and wait in the space right by the door.

Whew.

When the train is ready to get rolling, he hops on and takes care of checking Mocha’s paperwork and selling me the ticket.

And we’re on our way to Porto!

Arrival in Lisbon to explore

On February 16, 2023, I left Atlanta to spend 8 weeks exploring Portugal with my dog. I spent hundreds of hours training her to work as a service dog, so that she could go with me. But that’s a separate story.

I did learn before leaving that EU countries have stricter regulations around service dogs in the cabin. Because I trained her myself instead of working with an approved organization, she could only be in the cabin with me on flights with one end in the US. I had to change my itinerary to make my connection at JFK instead of CDG airport!

Mocha was absolutely amazing on the plane. I expected her to behave well, but I was prepared with plenty of treats in case she was more nervous.

When we boarded, the flight staff were keeping a close eye on us. The regulations around service dogs in the US make it a lot more accessible to get this support, but also a lot easier to scam, to call a cute pet a “service dog.” All it takes is one of those nasty lying liars to make a flight attendant skeptical about every dog they see board a flight.

By the time we arrived, they stopped by to say she was the most well behaved dog they’ve ever seen on a flight. That was a regular pattern each time we crossed the Atlantic in this whole process. I took her training seriously!

We landed in Lisbon bright and early (8am) on Friday, 17 Feb. Because I was traveling with an animal, I had to stop by the airport vet before I could go beyond baggage claim.

They checked her paperwork and checked that her microchip matched, and that she appeared healthy.

And then we were on our way to the taxi stand and my first gaffe!

I had been in contact with the airbnb host, so she knew around when to expect me. That part was all good.

Before I got in or gave him the address, I asked the taxi driver whether he accepts payment by card. Because my brilliant self didn’t have any local cash yet. I thought for sure he said yes. And in hindsight, he may have actually said yes, thinking I meant a local MultiBanco cartão.

We arrived at the destination, and no, no he did not accept my no-foreign-transaction-fee visa credit card 😬

I don’t remember the exact amount or what the conversion rate was then, but he accepted a $20 bill instead of payment in Euros. If I overpaid, well, that’s the tax for not paying the ridiculous conversion rates at the airport.

I don’t remember much from that first day beyond getting into the apartment, taking a shower, and crashing. I don’t sleep well at all on an airplane, so I was running on maybe 2 hours of sleep.

My next big challenge was getting my day started on Saturday.

At this point, it helps to know a few background details. Around the beginning of high school, I developed disordered eating habits. I didn’t manage to consistently eat three meals a day until I was 18 and living in a friend’s basement, where I was free to smoke weed every day to boost my appetite.

After my body was used to that many calories, I realized that I could maintain that habit by making breakfast something of a ritual. Almost every single day for more than 2 decades at this point, I started my day with a solid breakfast that included protein as well as carbs. That almost always meant 2 eggs, but occasionally if I went to a conference and had a room with a refrigerator, I’d make do with some greek yogurt and granola.

I say ritual instead of routine, because breakfast took on something of a magical quality. There’s probably actually a scientific explanation related to neurotransmitters or hormonal balances or something. But a good breakfast means that I will be able to eat a healthy amount that day. Missing breakfast messes up my appetite for the rest of the day, and it can be really easy to fall back into disordered eating patterns. So it feels safer to break mirrors and have a dozen black cats cross my path on Friday the 13th than to not have a good breakfast.

So I woke up on Saturday morning and went looking for breakfast.

I found pastelerias with lovely carb-heavy pastries, but that’s not what I needed. And I didn’t know how to ask for what I wanted in Portuguese.

I was starting to feel like what have I done? I’m all by myself in this foreign country and I can’t even figure out how to find a good breakfast, which carries SO much more weight for me than it does for normal people…

And then, a homeless man asked me for money. I told him I don’t speak Portuguese, so he switched to English.

So I asked him if he knew of anywhere nearby that I could get a breakfast with eggs 😂

I told him I’d buy him breakfast, too, if he helped me find a good breakfast 😂

So he led me to a restaurant attached to a hotel just around the block from where I had met him and helped me get service.

The man at the counter also spoke English, and checked with me about whether I really wanted to buy food for this man, but a deal is a deal.

I don’t honestly remember what I did about breakfast the next day. At some point before too long, I learned about savory pastries with meat in them – empada, pão com chouriço, and merenda mista. There was also a grocery store close to where I was staying where I could get greek yogurt or buy eggs to cook for myself.

All I remember was that everything got easier after that first morning!

Olaias

That first stay was in the Olaias neighborhood of Lisboa. I chose that location because it was close to a Metro station and the airport. I only spent three nights there to recover from the flight and start to recover from the jet lag. I didn’t intend to move to Lisbon, so I didn’t plan to spend much time here.

One of the things I found that I loved was that, even in this dense urban area, there’s a huge green space nearby. Google maps is listing at least three different names for different parts of the park, but the area I was in is showing up as Vale do Casal Vistoso Urban Forest.

We also took the Metro to go explore a little bit of central Lisboa and averaged around 15K steps per day that we were there!

Another chore we took care of during those first few days in Lisboa was to find a pet supply store and buy some new food for Mocha.

I brought a little bit of her regular food with me, so that I wouldn’t have to run out immediately to find dog food, and so that she could transition. I’ve been told many times that you’re not supposed to change their diets abruptly, instead you’re supposed to mix the old and new food for a week or two.

Mocha did not support that plan AT ALL 😂

Overall, once I got past those first couple of hurdles, I enjoyed my time here. I don’t remember Olaias as an area I’d want to actually live in – the best thing about the location was the proximity to a Metro stop. But I felt safe walking alone at night, which alone was a huge change from the US.

Up next: Coimbra!