In search of my next home in Portugal
After a fun and somewhat chaotic year in Lisbon, I am spending a year living in different towns in Portugal. I want to get to know this beautiful country and its people even better and to experience life in different areas. I am eager to see what the next chapter might look like…and where it will happen.
After leaving the northeast town of Bragança, a place that had pleasantly surprised me, I headed towards the center of the country to Viseu, a hilltop town of about 100,000 people.
Climbing “Mount Viseu”
As the bus headed toward Viseu, my home for the next month, I stared out the window at the rolling hills, wondering what my next stop would bring. My expectations of the town were limited as it was one I'd chosen in a hasty attempt to fill the schedule and give me the geographic coverage of the country I desired.
From the pictures I’d seen, my apartment was spacious and featured spectacular views. The reason for these spectacular views should have been obvious to me as they were of the cathedral that sits at the highest point in Viseu. I had seen this cathedral on what I later dubbed “Mount Viseu” many times in photos but didn’t think too much about it as I was searching for apartments. There were not many places available to rent so I had to take what I could get.
According to my map app, my apartment was only a 12-minute walk from the bus station, so I headed out on foot, eager to see a little of my new neighborhood.
Unfortunately, after the first couple of blocks, the route was all uphill. And not a beginner’s hill. An Olympic sport type of hill. At one point, I was dragging my bag up an almost 90-degree angle. Sweat was running from every pore of my body in the July heat. Soon, I was an asthmatic puddle. Big, beefy guys walked by me, not offering to ease my burden for even a block. It was like I was invisible.
It’s Lonely at the Top of Mount Viseu
After arriving on top of Mount Viseu and taking a pause to catch my breath to avoid a full-blown asthma attack, I began settling into my rather lovely apartment. It had a full kitchen, complete with a stove, a balcony with the lovely view of Mount Viseu, a table for work and even a little bonus table where I could work puzzles. For relaxing in the evenings, I had a big, comfy sofa in front of a nice-sized TV.
The apartment was on the top floor of a large, old house with a view of the 12th century cathedral only steps away. There was a gated courtyard in front that was shared with a few other houses. It gave the place a remote, almost rural feeling. As soon as I walked out of the courtyard gate, I was on the streets of the old town, which during the day, buzzed with activity from the locals and at night, were eerily quiet outside of a small square that held a few cafes and restaurants.
The place, while being very centrally located, had a strange way of making me feel isolated from the rest of the town. When I stepped out of the gate into the streets, the people did not seem incredibly welcoming, perhaps because it was quite a bit harder to find people working in stores and restaurants that spoke English. However I loved that about Viseu. It gave me the local experience I desired and made me work even harder to learn more of the language.
Finding My Places in Viseu
After the first week in Viseu, I had settled into a rhythm. In the mornings, I would take a short walk halfway down the hill, to a little café. The family that ran it were all very kind and quickly learned my order. Every morning, I would walk in, say “Bom Dia” to the people already sitting at tables or standing at the counter, and take my seat at my usual table. As I was connecting my headset to my phone and opening my Practice Portuguese app, my galão would arrive along with a friendly “bom dia’.
In the afternoons, I developed some ill-placed sense of entitlement to an ice cream, perhaps as a way to feel like I was part of the social fabric of the town. It got me out of my home in the gated courtyard on the hill, and around my fellow humans for a moment. I became a huge fan of the cafe in the park that sold what I called the “double double”, a cone filled with chocolate ice cream and pieces of milk chocolate. In this heat, by the time I ate my way to the piece of chocolate at the bottom of the cone that was intended to keep the melting ice cream from running down your shirt, it was a syrupy, river of chocolaty goodness. It became my afternoon moment of joy.
Sometimes in the evenings I’d walk down to the sports bar and watch a game or have a glass of wine. Two of the bartenders spoke English and happily talked football with me as well as answering any questions I had about local life. From them I learned about the mall on the edge of town that had a magnificent view of the Serra da Estrela mountains. They also gave me directions to a popular local swimming hole and one just beyond it that fewer people knew about. I wondered why they would share their secret spot with me. Perhaps they knew I was passing through and would not be there when they needed a quiet break from the heat.
Besides them, it was difficult to connect with anyone else outside of very high level conversations. However, these experiences were helping me as I slowly was able to have more substantive conversations. Every tiny bit of progress brought me an immense amount of joy.
Update: “Bring Back the Bom Dias” Campaign
At first glance, Viseu does not seem incredibly welcoming to outsiders, likely due to it being off the tourist track and more a place for local life. I definitely stuck out like a sore thumb. There are very few tourists, even in the middle of summer, and those are from other parts of Portugal or either Spain or France.
As I walked the streets filled with seemingly aloof locals, I realized, Viseu was a perfect place to continue my “Bring Back the Bom Dias” campaign! I wanted to connect with these locals and what better way than sharing some “Bom dia!” love as I passed them on the streets.
One of my first targets was an old woman on a bench who I passed every day as I headed to my morning café. Surely this sweet old lady would be up for bringing back the “Bom dias”.
She was not.
When I greeted her with a hearty “Bom dia!” she looked at me as if I just told her I was dropping off three infants for her to raise. Undeterred, I tried again with an even heartier effort. Her face softened the tiniest bit but largely she was unfazed.
Progress is progress. I'll take it.
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