A Typical Week in Portugal
no need to buckle up; it's pretty tame
life: examined is an invitation to get curious, a compendium of ideas, thoughts, and questions about living a creative, intentional life.
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Last week I wrote about laundry.
Specifically Other People's Laundry and how you can learn so much by wandering around and paying attention to the seemingly mundane happenings in your town.
In Portugal, as with many western and southern European countries (and elsewhere), we hang out our laundry to dry. This happens rain or shine, as my friend Jeff points out in his comment on that essay (check it out using the link above).
Apparently Jeff is a laundry-watcher, too. And a damn fine photographer. That's his photo below.
But enough of the dull yet universal subject of laundry. Instead, we will move on this week to an equally prosaic topic: a typical week of my life in Portugal.
I know—sounds exciting, doesn't it!
You might not believe it, but people often ask what my daily life is like in Portugal.
Not the days where travel or some event features prominently, but what I do with my time and if it's different from what I'd be doing in California.
No, in the broadest sense my life is not that different here than in the States. Except for the days where I feel like I'm on a distant planet with local customs, holidays—so many holidays!— and a language designed to frustrate and confuse me. But most days I just laugh about all of it.
Don't Mess with the Daily Routine
The daily get up, wash face + brush teeth, drink water, take the dog out for emptying, return to the flat still half-asleep and start the coffee program happens regardless of where I live.
These tasks are the foundation of my day; don't try to take even one of them away—especially the coffee part. And the dog emptying, I suppose.
I go about these rituals the same in Portugal as I would wherever I lived.
It's when I go out to shop, meet friends, or explore some new-to-me alleyway or strange storefront (decorated with scary baby dolls in striped popcorn buckets—a bookstore, obviously), the day takes on a uniquely Portuguese flavor.
Carless by Choice
I do most things on foot.
Occasionally I'll call a car (Uber or Bolt), but that's something I do maybe twice a month. Without trying, I walk between 6-9 miles around the city, back and forth and up and down stairs multiple times a day.
I used to walk quite a bit when I lived in San Diego, but nothing close to the distances I travel here.
Gone are the days of jumping in the car and going to the store. No, I have to plan a bit more than I used to. So much depends on the seasons and the weather; I plan around the heat or the rain. Then, when the skies clear or the heat abates, I dash out with my reusable bag and wallet and head to the store.
Grocery-ing
When I grocery shop, a near-daily event, I'll visit up to three stores to get the items on my list (I told you this would be an exciting tale).
I'm weirdly enamored with grocery-ing in Portugal.
It's a lovely way to connect with local small businesses, like Casa Borba, my favorite tiny confeitaria for sourdough bread, or the frutaria that stocks the freshest produce, bread, and other local treats like olives and jams, at prices that make me cry happy tears.
The Cult of Coffee
Often, before (or after) my daily shopping expeditions, I'll go for coffee with a friend, a newcomer, or a wannabe resident in town on a recon mission.
Sometimes, I even go on more than one coffee date in a day. I know, pretty popular, huh?
It's not me, it’s coffee that’s popular.
It's rare to walk through the Praça without running into a friend or acquaintance. It takes little to persuade me to sit in the sun on the square with good company and watch the world go by while sipping an .80 cent coffee (1.20 euro if it's fancy).
Café culture is the national pastime in Portugal, well, that and football, oh, and cod—anyway, never mind all that, coffee and cafés are plentiful and affordable.
Coffee in Portugal is an honest and unadorned shot of espresso.
Not a caramel mocha-latte-cino with extra goji berries or a hipster third-wave pour-over. Nope, it's classic espresso—and I like it!
My neighbors clued me into the best way to order (and drink) it: um café cheio numa chávena escaldada.
Translation: a full coffee (water added to the shot to fill it closer to the rim) in a scalded cup. Ahhhh…
Feeding Frenzy
If you follow my Instagram, you'll know that I spend a good bit of time at Bloomy Market eating all the yummy things and visiting with my favorite people—both staff and friends. I never get tired of their menu. Mostly vegan, their food delights all palates—vegan, omnivore, or otherwise.
I enjoy other cafés, such as Turquesa and O Canteiro, but nothing beats Bloomy.
Bloomy is attached to the renowned Mercado do Livramento, Setúbal's daily (except Mondays) indoor produce, flower, fish, and meat market. I like that the fishy and meaty bits are in the back of the market—no co-mingling, here!
Hibernating at Home
It's true, I spend much of my week at home. But it's winter, and the mornings are so cold! Oh, the nights are, too. Regardless of the temperature outside, I like the comfort of my little nest.
In-between hibernation sessions, I walk Milo about four times a day.
We wander around the neighborhood or in the park across the street. He sniffs all the things—sniff walks are essential for this dog—even though it drives impatient me a little crazy at times.
Milo and Portugal are bent on teaching me patience.
Whether grant writing, copywriting, writing-writing, brand strategy work, or Move to Portugal sessions, I work from home.
I used to enjoy working in cafés when I lived in the States, but it's not that common here so it seems odd to me now. Café time is time to be with friends and enjoy a snack or a beverage, not time for working.
Subtle things shift over time and are barely discernible until I realize, for instance, that I'm no longer that coffee shop warrior who's glued to a laptop. It's kind of embarrassing to look back on it now.
It's as if decades of distraction, doing, and striving boiled over, and I'm left with debris from living that way; it's taking time to recover from constant motion.
I like a quiet atmosphere, for work and for relaxation. I'm happy to assemble collages, write poetry, rest, read, and bake banana bread—or whatever creative pursuit calls to me. I have a TV, but I rarely watch it except for occasional Netflix; I don't feel the need to be entertained.
The way I live doesn't make me more virtuous—I don't think that for a moment—but it does make me calmer, healthier, and more content.
Living Abroad = Growth
Portugal will change you in ways that you won't expect.
Living anywhere outside the U.S., outside any Anglophone country, will get under your skin. You’ll change—you would, anyway, but you’ll change in ways you might not expect if you stay where you are from.
I was reasonably prepared for massive change, but nothing takes the place of living among and within a different paradigm—like the way the Portuguese value socializing and tend to look sideways at overworking and hustle culture. I was already nauseated by these hallmarks of American culture—the constant striving and acquiring, but now it’s as foreign to me as this country once was.
Living in Portugal has afforded my life more space and less busy-busy. And now, I can't imagine going back to my old ways.
If you made it through this extended essay about boring stuff, I hope you've found some value in it. Either way, you are a superstar for reading it all!
Sometimes it's simple daily tasks that offer the most inspiration.
Favorite Portuguese to English Auto-Translation of the Week:
from a message about breast cancer screening:
i hate asymptomatic women, aged women from 50 to 69 years old.
Well, that’s specific AND offensive! (h/t to Katie & Ricardo for this gem)
Thanks to these generous readers for their support:
Angela, Eliza, Venomator, Rich, and anonymous humans for supporting life: examined through Buy Me a Coffee. Although not expected, always appreciated!
Whether it's a coffee, a comment, alike, or a share—I'm grateful for your support!
Until next week—be well, stay curious, and thanks for reading life: examined.
I feel honored to have witnessed a bit of your coffee-ing and grocery shopping, popping into one store for a vegetable and another for chocolate.
Was reading this and thought, "Wow, Shanna's got a LOT of hard-hitters in this post," but...as always (sorry!)...the translation takes the cake. My glass is forever raised to--excuse me while I catch my breath from laughing--asymptomatic women. May we know them, be them, raise them.
Hi Shanna what a lovely read! You seem to really love your life in Portugal, so different from your previous one in San Diego but so much more relaxed and unhurried. I feel happier as I grow older, yes, wisdom comes with age but I am quite contented now and so much more relaxed than my younger self! Problems which before seemed practically impossible to solve are just wafted over with a sense of complacency. Yes, contented with my lot! Made up about the tickets from Andrew! So grateful & humbled! Take care xxx