Once in a blue moon...

...We move to an apartment in Cascais, Portugal!

After several days of "voting," we're ready to reveal the results of our "International House Hunting." Drumroll please:

Numero um!  That is to say, we chose the 1st of the 3 apartments we visited, the little gem in "Historic Cascais."

Although we were intrigued by the idea of having a pool and/or tennis court at our disposal,  Estoril seemed a little too out of the way, so number 2 was out.  Number 3 was very alluring... modern and stylish with a warm feel.  It definitely fit us, but was also a bit far away from both work (an extra bus ride in the morning, most likely doubling our commute time) and all the fun exciting stuff in Cascais (see more on this below).  SO... we went with the place that was ready to move in with all of the amenities set up and the nicest landlord, Antonio.  He has already agreed to get us a better bed, newer couch, and even a flat screen TV (that was unprompted!)  The night we shook on it, he took us out for wine and beer and lovely conversation.  We scored. 

Last night was our first night staying at our romantic little "penthouse." Jyl cooked a sumptuous risotto and we drank delicious $4 wine as the blue moon rose on the horizon.  As twilight settled in, the enchanting sounds of Antonio Zambujo wafted in our window from the "Festa do Mar" (pronounced Fesh-tah) that runs for 10 days a few hundred yards from our perch.  An auspicious start, to be sure...

So it starts, friends!  Our 2nd bedroom is ready to go, and we are a short walk from a train station that runs to Lisbon, so we should be an easy destination.  Come enjoy all that Portugal has to offer, of which we have only begun to discover...

Once in a blue moon... we move to an apartment in Cascais, Portugal

Intern@tional House Hunters: Portugal Edition

Intern@tional House Hunters: Portugal Edition!

Our flights were great, but despite enjoying lavish comfort on the plane ride over the Atlantic we arrived with familiarly foggy jet-lagged brains.  The high school principal, school director, and transportation manager (Nate, Blannie, and Jose, respectively) were there to greet us.  Nate took us on a stroll along the Tagus River in Lisbon to pass the time as we waited for the rest of the new international hires, and was exceptionally patient as we gushed with a menagerie of pent up questions about the school year, the staff, and Portugal in general.  The rest of the crew (Maria, Joel, & Jen) eventually arrived from the far-flung corners of the world and then we headed West along the coast, out of Lisbon and on towards Cascais (our future home) and Linho (the school site).

At the school we were taken on a tour and then fed an overwhelming amount of very useful facts that were reasonably difficult to keep from leaking out of brains and into puddles on the linoleum.  Of the many tasks they set before us, Mission #1 was finding a place to live.  In 4 days.  Better yet, 3, so that we have time to bring the Portuguese rental contract to our accommodating office manager.  Oh, and by the way, even though you asked for 2 bedroom places we set you up to look at 1 bedroom places... so you'll probably need to contact the agents and reschedule.  But you can't do that yet because you have your first meeting in an hour, and you have to check in to the hotel first.  Deep breath...

Although it all seemed pretty overwhelming at first, it fell into place fairly quickly, especially with the help of many warm and helpful Portuguese people that we met along the way.  As a result, we have a place all set up to go, just 3 days after arriving.  Check out the little video I made to document the journey, and vote on which one YOU think we should have chosen! 

It (finally) begins...

Six months ago we pulled the trigger.  Today, we're actually on our way.  Just 2 flights and an expansive layover stand in the way of our dazed arrival in Lisboa.  

In honor of this momentous occasion, we    decided to splurge, and kick it off right... we're flying first class!  We rationalized the (surprisingly reasonable) expense through saved baggage fees, complimentary lounge access for our 8-hour Newark layover, and the fact that it might allow us to actually sleep for what will seemingly be a very long arrival day.  More realistically it just seemed like one of the only times we'd be able to afford it (especially since our base tickets were paid for by the school). Luxury awaits!  So we've got that goin' for us.

Thirty hours from now we will have crossed an ocean, taken a tour of our new school, opened a bank account, and gone to see apartments that could house us for the next 2 years.  It's going to be an epic couple of days...

A Dry Run (Europe Part 1)

Spanish, French, German, Dutch, and a dozen more languages I can't discern buzz around us as we stumble in a jet-lagged haze through Amsterdam's busy airport.  I let the overwhelming stimuli of myriad cultures comfortably co-existing wash over me.   I can't even begin to process the tapestry that's spinning around my head on 25 measly minutes of shut-eye (not sleeping, mind you; literally, I shut my eyes, but could find no way to get the rest I knew I'd need come morning).  We hop on a quick flight to Basel, Switzerland and stumble out the doors only to realize that our passports have NOT yet been stamped for entry.  We ask an officer what to do now that we had passed through customs and he said that there was nothing to be done.  Are we fugitives?  Have we illegally entered the European continent on the first swipe?  Silly Americans...

And so began our "dry run" exploration of Europe... Nearly 3 weeks to start to adapt to the fact that "you know nothing, Jon Snow."  A chance to experience different languages... new foods... strange signs... and funny looking money.  The heart of the European mainland yielded all of these things, but was certainly cushioned by the fact that nearly everywhere we went (Switzerland, the Netherlands, Germany, and even France) people were clearly more ready to deal with me than I was with them.  I felt humbled at the ease with which people switched from language to language, whereas I found myself nonsensically falling back on Spanish to communicate (as of now it's the only "other" language I am used to speaking, so when someone asked me something in Swiss or German, I found myself automatically responding with a "si, gracias" more than once).  This might go over better in Portugal.  Or maybe not. 

It was a beautiful and unexpectedly busy trip, chock-full of cathedrals, castles, and the vestiges of time past (buildings considered "ancient" in America would in many cases seem to be considered "new" in Europe... or not considered at all).  At times I felt like I was navigating these new cultures with all the grace of an elephant trying to tiptoe through a room of bubble-wrap.  But I guess that's my future, so I better get used to it.  Exactly 2 weeks from today, by this time we should have landed in Portugal, toured our school, opened a bank account, and be right in the middle of touring furnished apartments, where we'll spend the next 2 years of our lives.  Deep breath.  The dry run of Europe was great, but when I face up to the reality that it is my future, the elephant in me is ready to storm the circus crowd, knock down the supports, and hide in the collapsing tent until it all blows over.  I'm overwhelmed... but I suppose that's the natural feel of things.  All I can do is make the most of the time with my family, friends, and familiar life... and remind myself that eventually, Portugal will be familiar, too.