After 14 Years Abroad, We Finally Found Home in Spain

I stood at the railing on Rim Drive and looked down. What they say is true: you can see a dime at a depth of 100 feet in the crystal-clear water of Oregon’s Crater Lake. Looking further out, I spied the “phantom ship,” a small island that earned its name for its resemblance to a ghostly galleon. This moment mirrored my state of mind in July of 2012: an odd mix of clarity and the mystery of the unknown.

We had sold our mountain home in Woodland, Utah. My husband, Keith, rented a moving van and drove to Indiana to put our belongings in storage near our son. When he flew back to me, we began a tour of national parks in the Pacific Northwest. Knowing we were moving abroad, we felt a sudden panic about ticking off items on our bucket list. Importantly, we needed to visit the Portuguese Embassy in San Francisco to arrange for our long-term visas.

Soon, we would be on our way to a new life on the Iberian Peninsula.

The Decision to Expatriate

For years, we had contemplated expatriation. Each vacation in Europe deepened our love for its history, architecture, and culture. But where to go? France felt too expensive, and we struggled to find a suitable long-term rental in Spain. With Keith’s Portuguese heritage, we assumed we would be on a fast track to dual citizenship. So, Portugal it was.

By autumn, we settled into a stone cottage on a quinta in northern Portugal. Our six-month lease, a requirement of our visa, could have been extended, but as the cold, rainy winter wore on, we craved a warmer, drier place.

Finding Our Place in Portugal

A local real estate agent leased us his seaside condo in Esposende for a while. However, realizing we needed to improve our Portuguese, we moved south to Penela, half an hour from the University of Coimbra. There, we enrolled in an intensive five-week course that boosted our confidence and helped shop and restaurant owners better understand us.

We wanted to stay in a large Spanish-style home with a pool and vineyard views in the hills above Penela, but the owner refused to commit to a long-term lease. So, we moved south again, about 30 miles northwest of Lisbon, to a rental in the Zambujal neighborhood. This area had single-family homes, several cafés, and a couple of churches, while the nearby town of Mafra offered supermarkets, gyms, bakeries, and the grand national palace.

Living in Zambujal led to one of our closest relationships in Portugal. Each morning, we walked past vineyards to Café Fagulha, owned by the energetic Lena, who treated us like family. She even threw us birthday parties and made us dinner. Unfortunately, we eventually faced the “cranky canine connection,” as a large dog barked for hours on the patio across from our bedroom.

The Search for Stability

After renting again, we wanted to own. Rising property values drove us to central Portugal, where we found an affordable five-bedroom quinta with a pool and a small vineyard. Life was sweet; we improved the property, had our own grape harvest, or vindima, and entertained often. We named our home “Quinta dos Sonhos” because it truly felt like a dream—until late 2019.

My spouse’s employer, for whom I had also worked for decades before retiring, experienced a rapid decline in health. Overnight, we relied solely on Social Security and my writing income, which wasn’t enough.

It took a year to sell the quinta. Our next home was a motorhome, or autocaravana. We planned to buy land, live in it while building a log home, and then keep it as guest quarters. However, we couldn’t get permission to build on the land we had chosen. Agents advised us to “buy now, confirm later!”—a risky proposition we weren’t willing to take.

A New Adventure in the Algarve

We headed south to the Algarve, putting our belongings in storage and parking ourselves in Lagos. I had never lived in a camper and wondered if I would survive. The truth? It was a piece of cake. At Yelloh! Village, we had access to pools, a restaurant, and a small grocery store. There was live entertainment on Saturday nights, and I played pétanque with fellow campers—all for $15 a day.

However, when COVID-19 restrictions intensified, we risked fines if we left the campground. Our residence cards showed an address in central Portugal, hundreds of kilometers from our actual location, putting us in violation of the rules. Suddenly, even stepping away from our space meant wearing a mask.

After 10 years in our Iberian idyll, we watched our world crumble. That’s when a friendly couple told us how different life was in Sweden.

A Leap of Faith to Sweden

Tired of battling Swedish winters, Anna and Roger were house hunting in Portugal. They gave us a link to what they considered the best real estate website in Sweden, and soon, Keith had chosen no fewer than 17 listings for me to check out in person.

Three days later, I disembarked at Stockholm Arlanda Airport. I had dramatically reduced my list by eliminating properties that were land only—who was going to build a home in December in snowy Sweden? The second house I saw stole my heart.

Located five hours north of Stockholm, deep in the countryside, the property featured a 1906 farmhouse and a modern structure built in the year of our marriage, 1992. It felt like a sign.

Settling into Swedish Life

Despite the challenges of remodeling the farmhouse kitchen and sealing gaps that invited rodents, our Scandinavian sojourn was outstanding. We quickly contracted with a Swedish moving company that specialized in transporting goods to and from Portugal. Within a month, everything we owned was back in our possession. Our homes sat on a rise overlooking a lake, and we had our own forest. A small town nearby offered everything we needed.

After a year, we moved from the newer house, which had electric heating, into the farmhouse, relying on fireplaces. One day in March 2023, my husband walked in, arms full of cut wood, and announced he could not face a fourth punishing winter.

The Journey Back to Spain

By summer, both homes were ready for sale, and we quickly had a deal. It was time to head home and embark on one of our more adventurous road trips. We had our car serviced before beginning our 2,300-mile journey, asking for special attention to the brakes. Five minutes after leaving the mechanic’s shop, a suspicious smell and smoke from under the hood sent us back. We were reassured it was normal after the service.

I’ve never gotten over how much larger Sweden is than Portugal. It took 10 hours just to reach the border with Denmark. Then it was on to Hamburg, Germany, where we had our next brake repair. In Belgium, the tires gave out, and we spent three days in Waterloo waiting for new ones.

As we crossed into France, the car was bumping oddly, and one tire was red hot. We lucked out by finding a former rally mechanic who managed to locate the part we’d needed all along—the only one available in all of France.

A New Chapter in Amaiur

Our journey took us through Normandy, where my father landed on D-Day, and then to Zarautz in Spain’s Basque Country before crossing into Portugal. We house-surfed for two months while searching for a long-term rental. Friends welcomed us warmly, but when we still hadn’t found a place by September, we worried about wearing out that welcome and spent the month in an Airbnb.

In October, we returned to familiar turf, renting a spacious home in the hills above Coimbra. However, the rainy season came early, and the resulting mold and mildew sent Keith to the hospital twice.

As our lease neared its end, we began looking across the border. One day, a gem appeared in an online search: a furnished four-bedroom, two-bath home in a medieval village in the foothills of the Pyrenees for €900 a month. As we neared our destination, we were entranced by the peace and natural beauty of the Baztán Valley.

When we arrived, the real estate agent explained that another family lived in the building, but we felt an undeniable sense of privacy in the unit. We agreed to rent on the spot.

We’ve been living in the historic village of Amaiur in the Basque Country for over a year and a half now, and we have no plans to move. Less than an hour from Pamplona and San Sebastián, we love the location. We have great neighbors, with whom we speak in a blend of Spanish, French, and Basque, and a church in Biarritz where some members speak English. It feels like home. Finally.

Tips for Future Expats

1. Bring Just Enough: Bring personal belongings to feel at home without being weighed down. Ensure you receive payment for any furniture sold separately from your house.

2. Rent First: Always rent before buying. Explore the area day and night over a period of time before signing any lease.

3. Check Permissions: Never buy property on which you plan to build unless you have written permission from local authorities.

4. Don’t Hesitate to Move: If you realize you made a mistake, don’t hesitate to make another move. Cut your losses legally.

5. Let Go of Comparisons: Accept that things will be different in your new home, for better or worse.

6. Nurture Friendships: Maintain connections with friends, even if you move to a different country.

7. Learn the Language: Becoming conversant in the local language will significantly enhance your quality of life.

Boa sorte, Lycka till, ¡Buena suerte!