A New Beginning in Portugal

The Sophistication, Grit of Portugal, and the Gift of Letting Go

There’s a particular sophistication and grit in Portugal that hits in the same breath. It strikes me as a country of possibility, where you can still feel echoes of the past and the struggles that shaped it, even as a bright, blossoming future stretches out under endless blue skies.

Slow Walks and Seaside Moments

Straw chapéu–topped heads and sandal- or sneaker-covered feet promenade along the seaside boardwalk, or parade, as they call it here. It’s a very European thing to walk with no destination in mind. Sometimes contemplative, sometimes social, but always part of the rhythm of life. As I write this, I’m sitting on a bench beneath the shade of a tall palm tree, facing the Atlantic. A 70-degree breeze kisses my skin, just enough to keep me cool and completely content. Around me, I hear conversations in French, Spanish, Portuguese, and English, with a mix of British and American accents. People of all ages and sizes are walking, jogging, and cycling. Children roll by on scooters or are tucked into strollers. Tanned teens in skimpy swimsuits gather in a circle, bouncing a soccer ball off their knees, chests, and heads, trying not to be the one who lets it drop into the sand. A bell at the train station whistles in the distance announcing an arrival, and a church bell chimes. It’s all part of the symphony that occasionally pulls me from my blissful trance.

Surrendering to Change

This moment feels especially sweet after a couple of unpredictable years, filled with change and a few unexpected turns. Looking back, I see now how much those seasons taught us about flexibility and trust.

My husband and I often reminded each other to “ride the wave”, choosing to stay afloat and seeing where life might carry us.

It turns out, the tide brought us somewhere beautiful—a quiet seaside town just twenty minutes from Lisbon, where each day feels like the start of something new.

Why Portugal?

People often ask, Why Portugal? Was the move hard? Do you love it? Will you ever go back to the U.S.? The short answer is that it has been an exciting adventure, but it wasn’t always easy. For months, we lived in Airbnbs and hotels. We were repeatedly told our condo would be ready—two months, two weeks, another month. It went on like that for nearly a year. When we finally moved in around Christmas, we had a mattress on the floor, a cardboard box for a table, and two chairs. Ordering furniture was a lot like building the condo; it might arrive in two days, two weeks, or maybe even two months. Sometimes four. We learned to let go. We were being initiated into a slower, less predictable rhythm of life. And it was a small price to pay. Now, we’re a four-minute walk to our neighborhood square with its cafés, bakery, and markets. The beach is five minutes from our door. From our tiny home, we look out at a hillside of traditional Portuguese houses with terra cotta tiled roofs in pastel hues of yellows, pinks, and greens. Every morning I wake up and see that view, and I’m reminded: I’m living one of my lifelong dreams—to be in love and living in Europe.

What You’ll Find in This Series

This section of A Nourished Life is where I’ll share our journey—what worked, what didn’t, what I’d do differently, and what it’s like to truly start over somewhere new. I’ll write about the beauty, the challenges, the culture shocks, and the unexpected gifts of expat life in Portugal. I welcome your questions, your curiosity, and your comments.

Thanks for being here. Warmly, Eva

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