What started as a visa errand turned into a spontaneous drift through Portugal’s capital—proof that old travel habits die hard. After being holed up in my flat for the last month taking care of paperwork for my AIMA meeting and writing and editing posts that were long overdue, I was feeling the need to go on a Drift  in a big way. Don’t get me wrong—I love writing and sharing crazy adventures—but the need for fresh air and new sights is what makes me feel whole and at peace. With one last meeting to secure my D7 Residency Visa , also known as the Passive Income Visa , a trip down to Lisbon was required. I planned out my journey with train schedules, local accommodations, and a clean set of clothes packed in a small backpack. I was as ready as I could ever be. I figured that if I was going to spend a few euros on tickets and a place to stay, I might as well add a little more time to get my money’s worth. That meant heading down a day early so I wouldn’t have to stress about being on time for my appointment, and staying a day after to do a little sightseeing—making for a well-rounded trip. I’ve also discovered that a Drifter  needs a built-in travel buffer of at least four to six hours to account for getting lost, getting found, and translating yourself through the language barriers of any Portuguese trip. It began with a quick ride from a trusty Uber driver who took me up to the train station. I highly recommend Uber for its phone App, which offers different pricing options, pickup times, and, in my experience, great service. The cost of an Uber was also about half the price of a recent cab ride, making it affordable at around €4.50 for the one-way lift of about 4 km (2.5 miles). The train ride down was smooth and sweet, giving me time to think about what I might do once I arrived. The train dropped me off on the east side of Lisbon at Lisboa Oriente Station . I wanted to stay near Baixa de Lisboa , the historic heart and commercial center of the city, which meant a short ride south from the station—perfect time to check out the bus system, since I hadn’t given that a try yet. Once in the historical part of town, things looked just as I’d imagined—souvenir stores, pastry shops, and street-side restaurants everywhere. With so many people enjoying the sights and sounds, there was a buzz of excitement that I couldn’t help but love. It gets your blood flowing, puts a sparkle in your eye, and a little pep in your step. I wasn’t the only one feeling it; everyone around seemed to share that same sense of joy and discovery. I made my way to the hostel I had picked out, only to find that they were booked solid for the next few days. I hadn’t made reservations, figuring that this area was full of places to stay and I could find something quickly. I remembered a website— Hostelworld.com —that listed at least ten to fifteen hostels within walking distance. I’d already researched some of them a few days earlier, so I had a good idea of which ones I liked. I appreciate hostels, honestly, because I’m a cheapskate and don’t like spending a lot on a fancy room for fancy’s sake, I never spend much time in a room any way. Hostels are also a great way to meet people, especially during the free breakfasts served in the mornings often in a common area where everyone gathers. Other travelers are usually eager to connect, and it’s a great way to pick up tips on what’s happening nearby and which places are worth visiting. Hostelworld  did a great job helping me locate, reserve, and pay a deposit to hold my room before I walked over to see it. Once I arrived, I paid for my full two-day stay and was very happy with the place—it was exactly as described on the website. The site also provides reviews, details about cleanliness, luggage storage info, Wi-Fi service, and even free tours for guests. I also logged into their chat room, which had offers for meetups with others doing daily activities, grabbing drinks, or going out for dinner. Pretty awesome setup. After my meeting the next day—and even after checking out the following morning—I had plenty of time to wander around the city before heading back home, and I enjoyed every bit of it. A short walk down to the waterfront and back again was refreshing, taking photos all along the way of course. This is definitely a place I’ll visit again—there’s so much to see, and you simply can’t take it all in within a day or two’s time.

If you think your U.S. phone plan will work fine abroad, think again. Here’s why a local SIM card is a traveler’s best friend. Hopefully, you won’t make the same mistake I did by not getting your phone set up with a European SIM card before you leave the airport or step off your ship. This little travel tip will help you begin your exciting new journey without stumbling. As I planned my trip abroad and made my list of important things to set up, one item managed to slip through the cracks — the purchase of a European SIM card. I did, however, contact my U.S. cell phone provider, and they confirmed that my plan included international calling and texting. I think that’s why I failed to place the proper amount of attention on this task and eluded me until I actually arrived in Lisbon and left the airport, a bit too late I know. Many places in Europe offer free Wi-Fi, which made things a bit easier once I touched down. But the moment I stepped outside a local café, a lack of an internet connection created all sorts of problems. The first was navigation — I had no mapping service to guide this lost soul to his next location or show me where I was. I believe that’s the true definition of lost . Even though I didn’t speak any Portuguese, not being able to call a local number added a layer of unnecessary stress. My U.S. phone plan only allowed calls and texts to U.S. numbers — a small detail, but now a big problem. It quickly became clear that a European SIM card was essential if I wanted to function, even partially. I also realized my phone needed internet access for translation apps, which I found myself relying on constantly. Whenever I had Wi-Fi, I’d prepare by translating the conversations I expected to have later. That worked about half the time — on a good day. A little research on service providers in Portugal led me to the Vodafone Go Total 35 Dias (Days)  plan. It offered a great deal — unlimited mobile data for around one euro a day, renewable every 35 days. That’s a bargain compared to back in the U.S., where similar plans can cost three times as much. Once I activated the SIM card, I had phone and internet service everywhere I traveled. It even worked for my laptop, which I connected by turning my phone into a hotspot. I stayed connected on trains between cities and used the travel time to write and do research — with no issues at all. It also turned out to be a good home internet solution. I didn’t need to pay for Wi-Fi in my new flat, which saved me a few euros each month. You might find other setups or service providers that work better for your needs, but this is how I solved a few of my early tech challenges while settling in. Think outside the box, stay flexible, and make it a fun part of the adventure. Recap: The 3 Big Reasons You Need a European SIM Card #1 – MAPS You’ll need access to maps and directions — it’s that simple. I learned this lesson years ago in a small town in France when nobody, and I mean nobody , wanted to help this lost traveler. The French can be tough to understand in situations like that, so don’t get frustrated. When in France, you have to do as the French do — speak French! #2 – LOCAL PHONE NUMBER You might need to call someone for help, so setting this up early will save you a lot of unnecessary stress. Write down your new SIM card number and remember the country code — each country has a different one. #3 – TRANSLATOR Translation apps require an internet connection. You won’t always have access to Wi-Fi, and it’s not easy asking strangers, in another language, whether their café offers Wi-Fi — and what the password might be!

How smart travel planning—and knowing what really matters—can make your journey smoother from the start. When I set out on my first journey across Europe, I was wide-eyed, excited, and ready for adventure. I thought I had everything figured out — flights booked, reservations made, itinerary planned, and bags packed. What I didn’t realize was just how much “baggage” I was actually bringing with me. And no, I’m not talking about emotional baggage (that’s a topic for another day). I mean literally, the heavy, wheel-busting kind — the kind I kept validating with every step across centuries-old cobblestone streets, questioning every item I had stuffed into a one-ton suitcase. I don’t remember if I was charged for the extra weight I was carrying, but I probably should have been. When I landed in Dublin, Ireland, all I could think about was getting settled in and heading off to one of those famous Irish pubs I’d read about — for a pint of Gat, or “the Black Stuff,” as they call Guinness Stout. It was the first item on my bucket list, and one that would quickly go back on the list due to the pure enjoyment of drinking it. That’s not cheating, is it? But before I could enjoy that tasty brew in the company of happy Irish locals, I had to navigate the many cobblestones between the bus stop and my accommodation. What looked like just a few blocks (and a dark alleyway) soon stretched into what felt like miles — and with every step, I grew thirstier. My dream finally came true after a bit of hard work and stubbornness, I was rewarded with my first of many pints. The next day, as I looked into my bag, and realized I didn’t need half of what I had packed. I was completely embarrassed by some of the silly things I thought were essential. Dreading the thought of dragging all that junk across Europe, I went on a mission and found a shop on the other side of the town square that sold travel gear and accessories. I found a backpack that was large enough to hold everything I truly needed — and limited me to what I didn’t. I no longer had to worry about those pesky cobblestones. With the leftovers separated from the essentials, I packed up a good-sized box and shipped it back to the U.S. with a sigh of relief. The backpack worked like a charm and became the perfect accessory for the minimalist travel lifestyle I was now embracing. Nearly twenty-five years later, things have changed a lot — but some stay the same. I’m older now, and the young backpacker of the past has turned into a wiser, more experienced traveler. Or so I thought. As it turns out, I was about to make the same mistake all over again. After selling nearly everything from my old, materialistic life, I tried to squeeze the last few remaining items into two fifty-pound suitcases — the airline limit. I had to make painful choices about what to keep and what to let go of — not easy for someone who grew up in a family of proud hoarders who never threw anything away. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten the lessons from that first overseas trip. Once again, I felt like I’d done a great job paring down to the bare essentials — my personal “best of the best.” This time, the journey would be more permanent; as I was planning to stay abroad for much longer. I was ready for my new minimalist travel life. But reality hit hard again the moment those wheels met Europe’s ancient cobblestones. So, if you’re preparing for a long-term trip or even your first European getaway, take it from me: beware of your baggage. Or at least, make sure you have a good plan or the means to let someone else handle it for you. I chose not to — it’s a guy thing, I guess — and I could have made my second trip a lot easier. The route to my new flat involved multiple legs to complete: a plane, a metro, a train, and finally a cab. This was definitely not a Point A to Point B trip. A Few Practical Travel Packing Tips Pack Smarter, Not Heavier Before you even get to the airport, use a small luggage scale to weigh your bags. Trust me — nothing ruins the start of a trip faster than the steely-eyed airline attendant telling you your bags  are over the limit. This simple "Packing Light for Europe" tip can save you both stress and extra fees. Think Through Every Step of Your Journey Plan out how you’ll get from the airport to your hotel — step by step. Will you need to take a bus, train, or metro along the way? That short ten-minute walk you see on Google Maps can easily turn into a marathon in real life, especially when hauling heavy luggage. Pre-Book a Ride or Have Directions Written Down Use a cab or ride-share service to get straight to your destination. Have the name and address of your final destination written down clearly — especially if you don’t speak the local language. Nothing says “lost tourist” like trying to pronounce a street name you can’t even spell. Always Check If Your Accommodations Hava an Elevator It might seem like a minor detail — until you’re dragging five bags up three narrow flights of stairs after a twelve-hour flight. Do yourself a favor and confirm this before you book your room. Your back will thank you later. Final Thought: Travel Light, Live Freely Traveling isn’t just about the destination — it’s also about the journey, and what you don’t  bring with you. Every extra pound of luggage adds weight to your journey, both physically and mentally. So before your next trip, take a moment to ask yourself: What am I really needing for this trip? I’ve learned that the best adventures begin when you finally let go of what you don’t need — because excess baggage can really put a damper on a good Drift . And if you do lighten your load, that just gives you a good excuse to buy that nice pair of shoes you’ve always wanted.

Breaking into a cold sweat in the checkout line was all the proof I needed. The one thing I’ve found critical in today’s world is the ability not only to speak another person’s language but to truly understand it. I’ve been in Portugal for a month now, and I still haven’t had a long conversation with one Portuguese person. Thank goodness for the translation App’s on my iPhone—they have gotten me out of some very sticky situations—but this doesn’t replace a good old-fashioned chat with an interesting person. Still, they have helped me buy metro tickets, navigate the grocery checkout, figure out that laundry machines supply the soap, and decipher the train station schedule. On a recent trip to Lisbon, I hired an Uber driver who used his iPhone to translate our conversation in real time. This was perhaps the longest discussion I’ve had with another human being since I arrived. I was actually a bit concerned that my vocal cords might fail mid-sentence from lack of use. I told him I wished I’d learned more than olá  (hello) and obrigado  (thank you), and that I knew there would be hardship due to my inability to speak Portuguese. I also admitted I’d underestimated the challenges ahead. He laughed, and his iPhone translated his kind words: “I understand completely; our language is not an easy one to learn.” I have to say, the Portuguese people have been incredibly gracious and kind—with the exception of one lady at the grocery checkout. After she scanned a sizable pile (at least two bags full of food), my debit card declined the purchase. The pleasant look on her face vanished, replaced by a glare of disgust that triggered a wave of fear and anxiety I hadn’t felt in some time. There was no way I was leaving that store without paying or facing this angry woman’s wrath. As a cold sweat trickled down my face and her stare drilled into me, I needed a solution and I needed it fast. With a little quick thinking, plus help from yet another phone App, I was able to resolved the problem. It allowed me to finish my purchase, escape the growing line behind me, and flee the glare she had fixed upon me. After paying and bagging up my groceries I responded with one of the only two words I knew—“obrigado”—and quickly disappeared out the front door with food in hand. I know I’m missing out on some of the most important aspects of the culture and the unique nuances of this country I’m now wandering through. But this handicap has given me a new inspiration to learn at least a small bit of the language so eventually I can fully enjoy more of this beautiful place. My recommendation to anyone coming to Portugal: give yourself at least six months  to learn simple phrases and common words. That way, you won’t be as completely lost as this Wayward Drifter has been. Here are some recommendations I’m following myself: Start with free or low-cost phone Apps  (many offer trial periods). They’re ideal for learning the basics, include speaking features, and track progress. Being on your phone gives you the flexibility to practice while traveling or during downtime. The next step is to take classes  to practice and apply what you’ve learned in conversation. There’s no better way to learn a language than to speak it, this helps with pronunciation, word composition, and builds confidence. There are online and group classes  designed for beginners. I’ve found teachers offering one-on-one online lessons, which can feel more personal and provide live feedback that Apps can’t match. Basic Schedule:  Aim to practice 30–60 minutes a day, 5–7 days per week, for 3–6 months . The key is consistency  while mixing listening and reading with speaking and writing—in other words, input and output . I’ve organized two categories below with details to help you decide on what’s best for you: Phone Apps (Great for on-the-go, bite-sized lessons) App Key Features Pros Cons Cost Duolingo Interactive lessons on vocab, grammar, and sentences; stories for context; daily streaks. Covers Brazilian Portuguese. Free core version; fun and addictive; includes speaking practice. Less depth on grammar; can feel repetitive. Free (Super: $6.99/month for ad-free). Babbel Conversation-focused dialogues; speech recognition; cultural tips. Real-life scenarios (e.g., ordering food); quick 10–15 min lessons. Limited free content. $13.95/month (first month often $1). Memrise User-generated flashcards with native audio; memes for retention. Strong on pronunciation; community content for travel phrases. Less structured than others. Free (Pro: $8.99/month). Drops Visual vocab builder (no typing); 5-min sessions on themes like travel/transport. Engaging visuals; focuses on 2,500+ words. No full sentences or grammar. Free (Premium: $9.99/month). Online Classes (For guided structure and interaction) Platform Key Features Pros Cons Cost italki 1-on-1 lessons with native tutors; flexible scheduling. Personalized for travel needs; instant corrections. Quality varies by teacher. $10–25/hour (community tutors cheaper). Preply Similar to italki; video lessons with trial options. Matching based on goals (e.g., "travel Portuguese"); progress tracking. Requires commitment to schedules. $15–30/hour. PortuguesePod101 Audio/video lessons, podcasts, and flashcards; community forums. Themed paths (beginner to advanced); downloadable for offline. Less live interaction unless you add premium. $4–25/month (basic free). Coursera/edX Structured courses with videos, quizzes, and certificates. Academic depth; self-paced. More formal, less conversational. Free to audit ($49+ for cert). Remember : learning a new language is hard work, but the reward—being able to speak and understand Portuguese—is worth it. Enjoy your new Drift  into Portuguese culture and language.

Time can change a person only if that person wants to change. My travels have taken me to many places in life, but on this journey, the destination feels a little more permanent. I’ve signed a one-year lease on my flat, submitted documents to the local authorities for a Portuguese D7 residency visa, and opened a local bank account in my name. But the one thing that still has its evil clutch on me is the time zone change—and the unpredictable jet lag I face daily. It’s slowly adjusting itself as I take a good night’s rest more seriously than ever before. Now that I’ve finally adapted to a new time zone, completely opposite from the one I came from, I can speak in complete sentences—and have them be mostly understandable, I think. After all, I’m in a small city where not many people speak English, which makes living abroad in Portugal both humbling and rewarding. My new time zone continues to offer delightful little surprises every day. Now waking up at a normal hour, I make one cup of coffee at a time with my small French press (I’m in Portugal, by the way, not France). This has become a real joy for a coffee freak like me. In my old time zone, I would often make two pots of coffee and consume them both by noon using a 16-ounce insulated jug—a habit I’m slowly leaving behind thanks to expat life in Portugal. The midday break here in Coimbra—and across Portugal (12:30–2:00)—can be either aggravating or a wonderful reminder that you’re not “there” anymore. You’re here , in a different culture with new expectations and rhythms. You can’t ignore it; it’s a part of life. You have to accept it for what it is: a generously sized lunch break. More countries should give it a shot, really. Then there’s the sound of absolutely nothing from my balcony. It’s so refreshing—silence truly is golden. I never had that luxury back in the States. There was always the sound of traffic that I could never escape: the constant noise of loud trucks, motorcycles, and ambulances that just became part of everyday life—that’s until they disappeared. Adjusting to life in Portugal has reminded me what real peace and quiet sound like. Now, with all this peace and quiet around me, I find myself searching for important things to do and trying to decide what truly matters each day. Maybe that’s why I’m pouring everything I have into writing this post—making it today’s meaningful task and giving me a satisfying sense of purpose. One thing I can say for sure, now that I understand what my new “normal” has really become, I’m enjoying life again. It’s simple in many ways, quiet enough that I can actually think, and full of the things I choose  to fill it with each day. Expat living has a way of slowing you down—in the best possible way. I’ve thought about writing this post for some time, and I just want to say that the dream of coming here—to be free from stressful work and endless to-do lists—feels incredibly rewarding. This is something I’ve wanted to do for years, but like many others, I only dreamed about it. But then I finally took action, and now that I’m actually here, it does feel like I’m living in a dream—or acting out scene’s in a foreign film. Or maybe it’s the jet lag recovery talking. No, wait—I don’t think so. It’s quite real, because I just pinched myself. When I started thinking seriously about it, something amazing began to happen. With each step I took, the next one appeared, as if showing me that I should keep going. The more steps I took, the more possible it all became, and before I knew it, I had a solid plan in place. Finally, I had two choices: brush it off as a stupid dream or pull the trigger and go for it. I chose the latter—on two occasions now—and needless to say, I haven’t regretted either one. I think more people should take their dreams seriously. It doesn’t have to be permanent or forever; just try on a new pair of your best dream shoes and take them out for a walk. Don’t worry so much about when you’re coming back—just make sure you feel like you’ve gone where you wanted to go. You’ll know when it’s time to return. The smile on your face will be proof that you went there. I hope you have a closet with a few pairs of dream shoes that need to go out for a walk. Don’t be afraid to put them on. If they get you there, they can always get you back. Sounds a little like Dorothy and the Yellow Brick Road, doesn’t it? Remember, there’s only one small thing standing between you and your ability to live out your dreams—it’s you. So what do you say, let's dust off a pair of dream shoes and go for walk, a Drift awaits us all.

Discover how to meet Portugal’s D7 Visa housing requirement easily—and how Uniplaces helps you secure proof of accommodation without wasting rent. Once I decided on Portugal and its D7 Residency Visa option, one of the trickier requirements was providing proof of accommodation before my VFS appointment in San Francisco. With my appointment two months away and the approval process expected to take another two to three months, one question kept lurking in the back of my mind: Was I supposed to pay rent for all that time without even living there? The answer was yes. Another issue was: What if I don’t like my apartment?  Many more “what ifs” made this part of preparing for my VFS meeting a real challenge. It’s hard to get that feel-good  feeling from a few small pictures on your laptop—at least for me—good enough to shell out $2,000 of hard-earned money. I had also been warned about scams where landlords kept your money and acted as if they’d never spoken to you. I didn’t have a good feeling about listings made by private individuals either. Idealista at times had posts with warnings that said, “ Careful! Suspicious listing, Our quality control team removed this listing, ”  thankfully they don't show details or give you a chance to contact the landlord. Another red flag to be aware of is when the prices seem too low to be true, because there probably not. I looked at thousands of listings on Idealista and other websites—and even had an agent searching for me at one point. My top choices were being rented within 24 hours and disappearing from websites so fast I couldn’t believe it. As my deadline approached, and the stress mounted, I stumbled upon a website originally designed for college students but also serves digital nomads and professionals. I thought, Well, I’m a professional—at least when I want to be!  So, I decided to qualify myself as a potential renter. A few things to note: this site lists dorms and studios for rent, often located in or near college towns and universities. Some studios are quite small and may lack the size with the amenities you might prefer. So, if that’s a dealbreaker, you may want to keep searching. I however was looking for a smaller studio anyway, so this option worked out perfectly for me. The website is Uniplaces.com , headquartered in both Lisbon, and London, with most of its staff and operations based in Lisbon. That gave me a little extra comfort—knowing they were local to my final destination during this stressful time. They also provide a rental receipt , which is required for your VFS appointment. My rental receipt was submitted, and my visa was approved without issue. Why I Chose Uniplaces Some very positive advantages I found: Their landlords are vetted , and some even have a Trusted Landlord accreditation —great for peace of mind. The website can translate information  into your native language (a real bonus for this silly American). Most listings are well-photographed , giving a clear idea of the interiors and helping you make an informed decision. Many properties are fully furnished —with furniture, bedding, and kitchen utensils—perfect for anyone who doesn’t want to spend their first few days shopping for basics. I just wanted to arrive, grab a comfy seat, crack open a cold beer, and celebrate this new phase of my journey. Another big plus: instead of the typical insane deposit requirements (three months’ rent plus the current month’s rent handed over to a stranger), Uniplaces holds the deposit—usually equal to just one month’s rent—and releases it only after you arrive and approve of the place in person. They also act as a go-between for you and the landlord, helping with any initial questions or issues. The real bonus, though, is that Uniplaces shows real-time availability  for each property, so you can reserve your rental only for the dates you actually need it. That meant I could align my move-in date with my visa approval and travel schedule—no paying rent for months without living there. I did end up paying for one extra month before I arrived due to a slight delay on my part, but compared to paying three to five months elsewhere and not even being there, one month was no big deal. I eventually found a great place that checked all my boxes: furniture, bedding, kitchen utensils, a reasonable price, and a location outside a major city—keeping rent and living costs lower. I settled on Coimbra , a charming college town between Lisbon and Porto, close to the coast (and cooler than Portugal’s interior). And did I mention: all utilities were included in the €600 monthly rent. It even have a private balcony and a large window-door opening to the outside—something I really wanted but didn’t need. I jumped on it immediately and haven’t regretted it at all. A great choice made by one happy renter! I also viewed this first rental as a temporary landing spot —a place to start my new life in Portugal while exploring other towns for the future. Of course, your search may look different and your priorities may vary. This was simply my experience and how I solved the issues that mattered most to me. Hopefully, it helps answer some of the same questions or concerns you’ve had after reading other posts online. There’s a section on my blog where you can ask me questions or share your own journey. Please use it if you need a little help or want to run an idea by me—I’d love to hear your story as well. Happy Drifting, Everyone!

I know many of you might be wondering why I chose Portugal as my retirement destination. To be honest, I’m not quite ready to retire yet—I still have too many places to see and things to do before I pull up a rocking chair on the porch and watch the birds chirp. (No offense to you bird watchers.) Here are a few reasons why Portugal made the most sense for me—and how I ended up drifting my way there. I looked at a lot of possible locations and made a long list of pros and cons for each—too many to include here, but maybe I’ll share them in a later post when time allows. I started by identifying what I wanted in a future home: good weather, great food, affordability, safety, and less political chaos. This is a good starting point for anyone considering a move abroad—it helps clarify what truly matters. My top three choices were Costa Rica, Italy, and Portugal. Each had very different qualities that made the decision both exciting and challenging. And I do enjoy a good challenge every now and then. After extensive research, I found that every destination had its share of pros and cons. The real question became: What downsides was I willing to accept in exchange for the upsides that mattered most?  Everyone has to do some soul-searching to answer that. And it’s important to remember—you can always change your mind later and try a new location if your “dream place” doesn’t work out. Once I accepted that mindset, the decision became much easier. Costa Rica Costa Rica stood out for its proximity to the U.S.—important if I ever needed to travel home quickly. Its tropical climate was another major plus. The country has a great reputation for its cuisine, especially for someone like me who loves Latin American food—seafood, fresh veggies, and fish tacos, they make me very happy. With only Social Security income to live on, affordability was a key factor, and Costa Rica scored well there. However, when I checked the U.S. State Department’s advisory, I found it listed at Level 2: “Exercise Increased Caution,” mainly due to petty crime. That was a drawback in my book. As for political stability, Costa Rica performs relatively well, which helped balance the scales. In the end, it was a bit of a draw between the pros and cons. Italy Italy first caught my attention a year or so ago with its famous “One Euro House” program. These initiatives were designed to help repopulate smaller towns and villages that had seen young Italians move to big cities for better opportunities. Most of these homes are very old and had been vacant for years—many needing extensive repairs. That idea piqued my interest because I have plenty of remodeling experience. The thought of restoring an Italian villa sounded romantic and rewarding. But reality soon stepped in: with limited income, I couldn’t afford a large-scale renovation—and I didn’t want to spend my golden years buried under construction dust. Of course, Italy has plenty to offer—beautiful weather, world-class food and wine, and rich culture. It’s generally safe, though like anywhere, it depends on the region. (And no, I don’t think any distant relatives of Al Capone will be leaving livestock heads in your bed anytime soon.) Politically, Italy has had some protests and strikes, particularly over issues like the Gaza conflict, but overall it remains fairly stable. Portugal Now we come to Portugal—a country I somehow missed during my extensive trip around Europe years ago. I did, however, meet two young Portuguese students in Madrid who helped me consume an impressive amount of beer and close down a pub. They spoke very little English, and I spoke even less Portuguese—but thanks to the universal language of laughter (and alcohol), we communicated just fine. They left me with a lasting impression: the Portuguese are warm, open, and full of life. That memory sparked my curiosity about the country years later. When I researched Portugal more deeply, I discovered the climate was exactly what I love—similar to my time living in a Southern California surf town, with cool sea breezes and mild weather. The food scene also caught my attention: incredible seafood and fresh, flavorful produce available daily at open-air markets. Affordability was another huge factor. Compared to the U.S., Portugal’s cost of living is dramatically lower—especially housing. I realized I could live comfortably on less than half of what I was spending in America. On top of that, Portugal consistently ranks among the top 15 safest countries in the world and enjoys very little political unrest. But the real kicker—the thing that sealed the deal—was the D7 Residency Visa . This visa allows you to maintain your home country citizenship while living full-time in Portugal. It also grants freedom to travel throughout the EU for extended periods—no more “90 days in, 90 days out” restrictions. That flexibility was a game-changer for me. I wanted to explore Europe without crossing oceans every time I wanted to visit a new country. Here, I can hop on a train and be in Spain, France, or Italy within hours. Decision made!  Portugal checked all my boxes: affordability, safety, sunshine, and a path to EU residency through the D7 visa.

My first trip to Europe was a dream come true, and I can still remember the exact feeling when it finally came true. I had planned every step—getting a passport, storing my belongings, renting out my house, and clearing out the things I didn’t need in exchange for my freedom. The choice I made wasn’t normal for most people, and my friends and family made that clear. Comments like “you’re insane,” “what the hell are you thinking?” and the classic “what are you running from?” were all thought-provoking—but not discouraging. If anything, they made my commitment stronger and my desire for freedom even more real. I was at my mother’s house saying my final goodbyes and wrapping up a few last-minute details when she asked, “So, when are you coming back?” My plan to travel across Europe—starting in Ireland—had grown bigger than I expected. I decided it shouldn’t have a predetermined end. That would spoil everything it represented: freedom. With a pause and a hesitant smile, I replied, “I don’t really know. I bought a one-way ticket.” Her jaw dropped, and a wave of worry spread across her face. I knew it wasn’t the right answer—but it was the right one for me. After a long talk, she reluctantly accepted my decision, though I could still see the doubt in her eyes, as if she were thinking, He didn’t really think this through.   He’s having a midlife crisis.   He’s running away from something. But I wasn’t running away  from anything—I was running toward  something. Toward the life I’d imagined as a kid, watching movies about faraway places and reading books that showed only one picture of a world I wanted to see for myself. I was chasing the dream of travel, exploration, and self-discovery. Yes, I was running—like a track star in a hundred-yard dash, full of energy and determination. It was exhilarating. I hadn’t felt that alive in years, and the excitement put a smile on my face that could have lit up a small city. A Journey That Changed Everything My one-way ticket turned into a year-long journey filled with adventure, joy, and transformation. The places I visited, the experiences I had, and the people I met changed me forever. From the old Irish carpenter I worked with who smirked and told me, “Go home, Yank,” to the young German student who asked if I hated his people for what happened during the Holocaust—each encounter taught me something profound. What I learned is simple: you have to go there  to understand what it’s like to be from there . You have to listen—really listen—to what people are saying. When you do, you learn as much about yourself as you do about the world. But after living in places for as little as a night and as long as a month, I began to feel drained and longed for home. I missed my family and my old life. Eventually, I purchased my one-way ticket back, happy to tell my mother—knowing it would make her smile. That Christmas, as I sat at the dining room table sharing stories and laughter, I realized it had all been worth it: the missed trains, the uncomfortable beds, and the occasional inedible food. It was one great, unforgettable journey. A New Beginning: Portugal and Beyond Now, almost 24 years later, I’ve set out again—this time to retire and discover a new kind of freedom in Portugal. Of course, the questions and remarks came flooding back: “What’s in Portugal?” my old boss asked. “I guess I’ll have to go and find out,” I replied. My brother laughed at my idea and said I was crazy. And yes, someone once again asked, “What are you running from?” This time—at the end of 2025—I’ll admit I might be running a little. From the chaos in Washington, from rising costs and financial uncertainty, from the endless noise. But one question keeps echoing in my head: Why are you still doing this? You’re not getting any younger. Is it a question of why ? Maybe. I’ve asked myself that many times. My answer has always been: “Why not? What’s stopping you?” I’ve researched, prepared, and planned for every possibility. At this stage in life, it’s time to take another well-planned leap of faith and see what happens next. Or is it a question of fear ? As Franklin D. Roosevelt said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” I fear looking back ten years from now and realizing I spent a decade making someone else’s dream come true instead of living my own. I fear being too old to do the things still waiting on my bucket list. Why You Should Take Your Own Leap You might be thinking, I could never do that.  And you’re right—if you think you can’t, you won’t. But nobody ever dies wishing they’d worked a few more hours or skipped another vacation. The purpose of this post—and my entire blog for that matter—is to encourage you to explore, plan smartly, and embark on your own journey of discovery. Trust me, if I can do it, anyone can. Take that well-planned leap of faith into the unknown. Start planning now and just do it—I promise you won't regret it.

Customs agents, lost luggage, heavy bags, escalators, cobblestone streets, trains, finicky credit cards, and language barriers—these can humble even the toughest travel warriors. My Lisbon travel adventure is proof. My story begins... The flight from New York wasn’t as long as I thought it might be, I found the small video screen on the seat ahead of me quite entertaining and it helped the time fly by. I arrived in Lisbon, Portugal, at 8:45 a.m. safe and sound, without issue, eager to start my journey to a new home away from home. The airport was massive. After disembarking the plane, I was ushered onto a transport bus that shuttled me across the airport grounds to the main terminal. Now inside, I was herded back and forth in a snaking line, shuffled like livestock bound for slaughter. At last, I reached the customs officer sitting behind the thick glass. There I found a man glaring at me with steely eyes and a stone-cold face, he was clearly not someone you should mess with. The officer took a long look at my passport, then stared at me, and asked just one pointed question, “Why are you here?” After flying from Portland on the West Coast to New York and then across the Atlantic to Lisbon, jet lag had fully set in. I froze, I’m sure, with the classic deer-in-the-headlights look. Panic then crept in—would the wrong answer send me back to New York? I managed to mumble, “I’m here on a D7 visa.” Well, my answer worked. He quickly stamped my passport, handed it back and I immediately rushed off like a bandit grasping a suitcase full of stolen goods. Next stop: baggage claim. Or so I thought. After wandering through a maze of halls and corridors, I eventually ended up in the main lobby of the terminal—having completely bypassed the hidden baggage claim area. Like most airports I’d visited, I assumed the carousel would be near the front. I was dead wrong. For the next two hours, I walked through every imaginable section of the terminal searching for the carousel and my bags. Unable to speak Portuguese didn’t help my cause. Several kind locals, speaking broken English, tried to assist but pointed me in every possible direction except the right one. Eventually, I stumbled upon the baggage lost and found window, which in my case doubled as the “lost passenger” department. Finally an English-speaking agent reunited me with my suitcases, leaving me wiser—and far humbler—than when I’d arrived. With my bags in tow, I headed off to the Lisbon Metro. A short walk from the terminal led to the Metro station, where I faced a row of different colored ticket machines, each seemingly with a different purpose. I picked one that everyone else was using, hoping it was the right choice. Using my phone to translate the Portuguese instructions, I fumbled through the process. Inserted my new debit card and the final step was to enter my PIN code, this stumped me. I didn’t have one. Panic struck again as the line behind me grew. Thankfully, an attendant spotted my struggle and helped me find a workaround. Now with ticket in hand, I boarded the Metro, bound for the train station. Now to the train station. Emerging from the underground Metro, I faced my next hurdle: escalators. In Portugal—or maybe just this station—they moved at breakneck speed. My first attempt to enter was a complete disaster. With two large suitcases, one in front and one behind, I was stuck in the middle flailing around like a clown in a comedy sketch. I wish I’d filmed it; it would’ve gone viral in seconds. But after a few more tries, I had mastered the escalator dance and moved on like a pro. The few blocks to the station should’ve been easy, but cobblestone streets turned my suitcases into fifty-pound boat anchors. What would’ve taken five minutes on a smooth sidewalk took fifteen minutes of struggle. Beware of cobblestones, my friends—they’re a pain in the suitcase, if you know what I mean. Knowing my debit card lacked a PIN, buying a train ticket was now my next challenge. En route to the station, I stopped at a coffee shop for a much-needed break. Sipping my coffee, I remembered a rarely used debit card. At the ticket counter I handed my backup card to the attendant, It worked like a charm, I happily secured a train ticket. After wrestling my bags onto the train and finding a comfortable seat, I had a few moments to relax and reflect. The recent struggles gave me a sense of accomplishment—I hadn’t quit in the face of adversity, and I’d stayed the course no matter what obstacles that were laid before me. After arriving I found a taxi waiting just outside the train station. This last leg of my journey proved to be the easiest of all as I had conquered the many obstacles needed to complete this eventful stage of my trip. The driver knew exactly where I wanted to go and dropped me off in front of my new doorstep. No more ticket machines, escalators, or cobblestones—I was finally home. My final note:  Don’t let this story discourage you from taking a leap of faith, go for it! Travel humbles us all, teaching us to laugh at our missteps and helps us embrace the journey. My hard-earned advice? Prepare for everything, stay patient, never give up, and carry on with “The Drift,” wherever it might take you.

A calm, affordable path for those ready to trade chaos for cobblestones and a café life. My desire to find a quality place to retire — and do something I enjoy without breaking the bank — began to take shape late in 2024. I only had my Social Security benefits as income but wasn’t done working yet, so money was going to be tight. I just wanted work to be fun and bring in a few extra bucks to fund my crazy hobbies. My search took me across Mexico and Europe until I narrowed it to three final choices: Costa Rica, Italy, and Portugal. I’ve written in other posts about all the reasons Portugal came out on top, but what I want to tell you about specifically is the Portuguese D7 Visa — and why it helped seal my decision. Below is a detailed list of the requirements to qualify, and with each item I’ll try to explain as much as possible about what’s needed. This isn’t an exhaustive list as rules change, so the keyword here is research — but don’t go completely bat-shit-crazy over it. Things changed for me during the process as they might for you; you’ll need to adjust and go with the flow — in other words, do a little drifting and make the best of it. OK — just the facts, ma’am. We want the facts… The Portuguese D7 Visa is a residency visa, not a citizenship visa. It’s also known as the Passive Income Visa or Retirement Visa, but let’s keep it simple: D7 Visa. It allows non-EU/EEA/Swiss citizens aged 18 and older (with no upper age limit) to obtain temporary residency in Portugal if they can prove a minimum passive income of €870 per month (€10,440 annually) and intend to make Portugal their primary residence. Another financial requirement is proof of funds equivalent to one year’s income (€10,440)   in a Portuguese bank account. This visa is ideal for retirees, remote workers, and anyone living off pensions, dividends, or rental income. Below is the list of requirements and documents posted on the VFSGlobal.com website that you’ll need to prepare before your VFS appointment. VFS Global is an intermediary between applicants and the Portuguese consulate — they submit your documents and coordinate the visa approval process. FYI: they only submit. They do not approve applications, nor can they tell you if or how long approval will take. (Patience is required here — lots of patience.) RESIDENCY VISA FOR RETIREMENT PURPOSES OR PEOPLE LIVING OFF INDIVIDUAL REVENUES General requirements   (copied from the VFS application form with additional notes) National Visa Application:  Filled out and duly signed by the applicant. (For minors or incapacitated individuals, the legal guardian must sign.) Passport photos (2):  Passport-type, recent, and in good condition to identify the applicant (one for this form). I recommend getting four or five copies, as you’ll need them for other documents later and it’ll save time. Passport or other travel document:  Must be valid for three months after your estimated date of return. Proof of regular situation:  Proof of legal residence if you’re applying from a country other than your nationality. This must be valid three months after your estimated date of return. Proof of means of subsistence:  Bank or credit card statements in your name from the past three months. Valid travel insurance:  Minimum coverage of €30,000 per person. Coverage must include medical expenses, urgent assistance, and possible repatriation. This is travel insurance and not the required medical insurance you’ll need later for your AIMA appointment once you arrive in Portugal. Criminal record certificate:  Issued by the competent authority of your nationality (or country of residence, if you’ve lived there over a year). For U.S. citizens that’s the FBI. It must be apostille certified or remain unopened in the original sealed envelope. (An apostille is simply an internationally recognized notary certification.) Request for Portuguese criminal record:  A background check by SEF (Immigration and Border Services). Not applicable to minors under sixteen. Personal statement:  A signed statement specifying your reasons for wanting to settle in Portugal, your intended area of residence, and your type of accommodation (rental, purchase, or family home). Proof of accommodation:  A signed lease agreement, letter from an inviting institution, or declaration from a family member residing in Portugal. Hotel or Airbnb reservations may be accepted but typically only for long stays (minimum six months). I’ve read that short-term bookings can lead to denial, so I didn’t take the chance — I found an apartment with a one-year lease. Specific documents Religious purposes:  Statement of responsibility and certification of religious status, duly recognized under Portuguese law. Retirement purposes:  Document certifying your retirement income. People living off personal revenue:  Documents verifying income from movable/immovable property or financial assets. Proof of address (U.S.):  Copy of your lease agreement and/or driver’s license. Important:  Applicants in San Francisco and Washington, D.C., must pay the National Visa D/E fee via money order or cashier’s check payable to the “Consulate General of Portugal.” The VFS service fee can be paid by debit/credit card at the time of application. And there you have it — not such a bad list after all. ( Oh, silly me. ) It took me around eight months to gather and prepare everything for my VFS appointment in San Francisco. The deeper details — how to obtain each item, when to request them, and how to avoid mistakes — are covered in an in-depth PDF guide I’ve prepared (see the link below). As you can see, there’s a lot to do, but it’s absolutely doable. I managed it all while working a full-time job. You could do it faster, but that might drive you a little insane — so take your time and do it right the first time. This post is an effort to help you understand the challenges with the process and hopefully make it as easy as possible. I made an early commitment not to give up and to finish what I started. That decision has rewarded me with the confidence that I can do anything, no matter how big or difficult. The other reward? I’m now living my dream — in Portugal — and planning future adventures to other beautiful countries and exciting places. So what are you waiting for? Let’s get going and start your own Wayward Drift. ( Link to My PDF Guide )

How to Easily Transfer Funds, Spend Less on Fees, and Access Your Cash Effortlessly When Traveling Abroad If you’ve ever been stranded with no way to pay for a meal, buy a drink for a charming stranger at the bar, or grab transportation home, you know firsthand how important it is to have a travel debit card that actually works. I can’t count how many times I’ve found myself in one of those situations, praying to the Money Gods that my card would deliver the funds I needed. Recently, after flying in from New York and landing in Europe, I faced a multi-step journey: a metro ride to the train station, a train to a nearby city, and then a cab to my final destination. Each step came with its own challenge—my U.S. bank card wasn’t recognized by an ATM, and my backup card required a PIN I didn’t have. My last resort was my Wise debit card, which I had only been using to transfer funds into my European bank account. I hadn’t planned on using it, and it wasn’t heavily funded, but this time, I didn’t need to pray or wish. The Wise card pulled through perfectly, saving me in multiple situations. Maybe the Money Gods were on my side after all—but either way, this once-stranded traveler was back on the Drift. Plan Before You Go Your first step is to figure out how much you’re going to need for your travels or long-term stay, how often you’ll transfer funds, and if your going to transfer large amounts as some service providers have a cap and charge fees on higher amounts. Check for any other fees or restrictions to avoid costly surprises later. Also make sure your card functions properly with your PIN code in different instances and know what your withdraw limits are in case you need to make a large withdraw. It sounds like a lot of work, but doing this research can save you a great deal of money. My experience is just that—mine. Yours will likely differ, so this review is about how I made my  decision. You should always do your homework to make the right choice for your own circumstances. I’m not a financial adviser—just a traveler who likes to explore without financial headaches. Why I Recommend the Wise Debit Card for Travelers Wise (formerly TransferWise) has become one of the best debit cards for international travelers thanks to its low fees, transparent exchange rates, and fast transfers. It helps travelers avoid the inflated conversion rates and hidden fees that traditional banks often charge. I hadn’t planned to use it as my everyday card, but it quickly became my go-to for purchases. It worked seamlessly at ATMs, ticket machines, and supermarket checkouts—places where my regular debit card often failed for no good reason. Easy-to-Use App with Real-Time Exchange Rates One of the best features of the Wise card is its app and its simplicity. It opens with Face ID, shows your balance at the top, and lists your most recent transactions all on one page. The real gem, though, is its real-time currency conversion calculator , which shows exactly what rate you’ll receive when transferring money or while spending abroad. You also get instant notifications on your cell phone for every transaction—a handy security feature in case someone manages to swipe your card and go on a wild spending spree. It’s so easy that even a lost American in Europe can use it like a pro—a bonus for me, since being lost and craving simplicity are two prerequisites for this Wayward Drifter. How I Used Wise to Transfer Money Abroad While saving for my trip, I used my Wise account to store cash before transferring it to my European bank. I’d move money from my U.S. account into my Wise account, then monitor the exchange rates, and wait for the right moment. When the rate looked good, I’d select the amount, click, and done. Exchange rates fluctuate constantly, so timing can make a big difference. It’s great being able to check current rates at a moment’s notice—especially when the thought pops into your head. Simple. Fast. Secure. Low fees, good rates, and total transparency—what more could you ask for? (Okay, maybe an espresso.) Great Account Options with Global Flexibility Wise offers both personal and business accounts, operating in over 160 countries and supporting 40 different currencies. Most transfers complete in 20 seconds, with a 24-hour maximum. For example, a recent $8,000 transfer to my European account cost just $23.68 in fees—far less than traditional banks—and I got to choose a favorable exchange rate. That level of control and clarity makes Wise stand out for frequent travelers and digital nomads. Final Thoughts: The Best Way to Move Money Internationally I’ll be testing a few other debit cards and money transfer services and will share comparisons soon, since financial tools and rates evolve over time. But for now, Wise remains my top recommendation for international travelers, remote workers, and expats who want to: Transfer funds abroad with low fees Get fair, transparent exchange rates Use a debit card accepted worldwide Manage multiple currencies easily Do your own research, compare options, and choose the option that fits your needs. This setup worked perfectly for me— financial disclosure complete —and now I’m off to my next Drift. ( Wise Link Here )