March, 5th, 2023

I've always found the phrase "wrong place and wrong time" to be a bit of an excuse for situations where there was no willingness or desire to make things work - whether in relationships, jobs, or projects. But I discovered that most of the time, popular jargon is so famous because it carries an inherent truth, although a cliché.

I could say many bad things about my experience living a month in Portugal; something happened that made me reflect on the purpose of being there several times. I tried hard to face the day-to-day positively and hoped everything would be fine. Still, I could sum up all 30 days with this maxim - wrong place and time.

Maybe it's the wrong time to move due to the intense real estate crisis the country is going through, or maybe because there is also a visible unemployment and economic situation in the country with the lowest minimum wages in Europe.

Perhaps it is because there is a large mass of Brazilians immigrating, and this provokes strong reactions from the Portuguese, who see themselves as having to share space, work, culture, and rights with the new residents...

Maybe all of this together, with a little bad humor, with a bit of lack of courtesy, with a bit of bad luck we had, with the bureaucracy, with the constant cold in the house we rented even with the heaters on, with an incident on my son's birthday, with the fact that our cards internationals not being accepted anywhere, having bad experiences with petty landlords of the houses we rent, having left Scotland already feeling homesick, and having the strange feeling of loneliness and emptiness in the streets of Porto, Algarve, Lisbon...

The 30 days spent in Portugal were divided between the beaches, big cities, and the country's north to explore its potential to establish a base for the coming years. But the sensation that guided us out of there was an estrangement that lasted since we arrived - you know when you don't feel welcome? As if everything you do doesn't make sense? It was almost like being on a first date with someone you, for some reason, already know is not going to work out, that you don't fit in, even before the date is over.

A strangeness, a silence after the conversation that you don't know how to resume. A constant feeling that something is wrong and you don't quite understand what it is or why, but you know for sure that something is wrong, without a doubt.

It only took us 3 hours to decide that we were in the wrong place (for us) at the wrong time - it might work for us at another time; who knows? But like excellent and experienced travelers, we quickly packed our bags without regrets and said goodbye to Portugal and the disillusionment of the Lusitanian magic we never knew. And then we left. For a new adventure, in search of a place to call our own that fits in our pocket but also includes us, in which we hope to feel welcomed, following a clear and meaningful path.

Benvenuto in Italia!