4 Reasons My Family Moved to Portugal—and How to Follow Us

It all started with a “no.”

This was the summer of 2022. My wife Yulia and I had flown from our home in Prague to Lisbon for what was part holiday, part scouting trip. Portugal was our latest stop on a year-long tour of southern Europe, looking for what might become our new home.

Yulia, who grew up on the Black Sea coast, wanted to return to a life by the water. And I, who grew up traveling the world with a mom in the airline industry, have nursed a lifelong and wicked case of wanderlust. I’ll pick up and move to a new country just because it’s a Tuesday.

But apparently, Portugal was going to be a “no.”

I blamed myself, really. I’d booked a cool hotel for me, Yulia, and my young stepson, but I’d chosen an unfortunate corner of Lisbon’s city center. Not to put too fine a point on this, but it was grimy. Grungy. Loud. Dirty. Looking a bit like a warzone a decade after the war, but still in cleanup and rebuild mode.

Yulia was not impressed.

“No,” she told me one morning while we walked to the Time Out Market for breakfast. “This isn’t where I want to live. Too dirty. And I don’t like all these hills. I don’t want to walk Leo (our son) to school every morning going up and down hills.”

Me—I love Lisbon. It’s one of my favorite cities in the world. A baby Barcelona, though I’m certain the Portuguese don’t want to hear me comparing their capital to a neighboring Spanish city. I don’t mind the grit and grime. I’ve traveled the world—more than 75 countries now—and grit and grime is real. It’s authentic. In its own way, it can be exotic—like a foreigner showing up for the first time to experience New Orleans, in my home state. The Big Easy can woo the unsuspecting with its seediness.

But Yulia had spoken.

And she’d done so with that motherly tone that implies, “My mind is made up. Move along.”

So Lisbon was a no.

Which is why we now live… a few minutes west of Lisbon.

Yulia ended up loving the beachy Algarve region south of Lisbon. She loved the beauty of the Alentejo wine country that looks and feels like Napa and Sonoma Valley, circa 1950s. And she became a fan of other parts of Lisbon, like the Príncipe Real and Avenidas Novas neighborhoods, reminiscent of the best of Paris or Barcelona or Madrid. Clean. Vibrant. Elegant. Old World but with a modern sheen.

Through discussions we had over several months, she came to realize that in Portugal, our tax rate would plunge to nearly nothing, improving our quality of life and allowing us to save even more for a house.

Better yet, she could have her family near the sea again, in a warm-weather climate

And, so, Yulia’s no became a yes.

In February 2023, we began the visa process. By late July—five months later—we were living in a lovely, freshly remodeled three-bedroom, two-bath apartment in Cascais—the main city along what’s known as the Portuguese Riviera.

What follows is the months-long process of relocating to the Iberian Peninsula after living several years in Central Europe.

We’ll start with the No. 1 question people ask me:

Why Portugal?

That’s what all my friends back in the US wanted to know. It’s what many, many attendees at International Living’s Denver Bootcamp last fall wanted to know.

Portugal is small—about the same size as Indiana. Though people know it by name, it’s not the first place many think of when it comes to decamping to Europe. The UK, Ireland, Spain, Italy, Greece. Those are the expat destinations.

Portugal? That’s near Spain, right?

Yet Portugal offers four benefits that appealed to Yulia and me. They make the country a compelling terminus for retired Americans looking to build a new life in Europe, or for digital nomads who can work from anywhere yet don’t want to hopscotch around the world every few months.

These benefits are also a big part of the reason Portugal continually ranks highly in International Living’s annual list of best places to live overseas. (This year it pulled in at #2, down one spot largely because of a tax issue we’ll come to in a moment.) First, the four benefits:

1. The ocean. Portugal sits on the Atlantic and offers beach-living opportunities from the far north all the way down to the southern coast.

More importantly, these are affordable beach cities. You can find nice two- and three-bedroom houses, apartments, and villas near the water for $250,000 to $400,000 (and certainly far more). Good luck buying anywhere along the US coast at that price point.

2. Attainable visas. Portugal offers two types of visas that are perfect for Americans: The long-standing D7 passiveincome visa for retirees and others who live off of a passive income stream, such as a pension, Social Security, or rental/dividend income; and the D8 digital nomad visa the country began issuing in late 2022. (I suspected I could easily qualify for that new D8 visa.)

3. Fewer taxes. At the moment, Portugal offers immigrants a lucrative tax scheme known as the Non-Habitual Residence program, or NHR. Move to Portugal and for the first 10 years you pay dramatically reduced taxes. (More on this in a bit.)

4. EU citizenship and passport. Portuguese citizenship and a local passport—a much-coveted European Union passport—is available after just five years of residency, which is the shortest waiting period in Europe.

Combined, those four factors meant Portugal was the best possible place to live the life we wanted: By the sea, easy visa access, affordable, and a relatively short wait for an EU passport that will then allow us to live, work, and retire anywhere in the European Union, which is our goal for later in life.

Portugal’s Landscape Offers Good Living—No Matter Your Wish List

I should also say that beyond those dry facts, Portugal is just a lovely place to call home.

I’ve already mentioned the Algarve, Lisbon, and the Alentejo wine country. But there’s so much more packed into this small country.

We drove to the northern border in the early fall, to the region surrounding the little town of Caminha. As I wrote at the time, I would happily live there. It’s a picturesque little piece of the Puget Sound and the Smoky Mountains mashed into the northwestern corner of Portugal.

Just for kicks, I went looking at local real estate and found gorgeous, new-build three- and four-bedroom homes, on a plot of land for Yulia’s gardening, for between $300,000 and $400,000. Many of them overlook the Minho River that separates Portugal from Spain.

The coast northwest of Porto, meanwhile, is lined with quiet and quaint beach villages that remind me of trips along the coast of Northern Ireland—both beautiful, if often rainy, places.

Just after Christmas, we headed northeast into the Douro Valley wine region to hole up for several days at a thermal spa hotel.

Again, just a stunningly picturesque part of the country. Misty mountains, snow (yes, in Portugal), riverine ravines that at times look like something from one of the Lord of the Rings movies.

There are parts of that drive where I felt like Portuguese highway ministers had imported scenery from western Colorado.

Honestly, I’ve now seen Portugal from the far southwestern tip to the far northeastern corner, and I can say with assurance that this tiny Iberian sliver offers a landscape and a lifestyle for anyone. Urban Lisbon. The gentrifying core of Porto, where lots of money is pouring into ancient buildings being turned into luxe city-center apartments. Dry, Napa-like vineyard living. Mountain homes. Life along salmon and trout-rich rivers. Beach bungalows. Farmland life.

Whatever you want, it’s here. And remember—this is a country the size of Indiana, so you’re a short distance away from a different landscape no matter where you live.

But if you’re serious about moving here, there’s one piece of advice I must offer: Hire a pro.

Seriously—hire a pro!

Preparing for the Move: A Frustrating Paperwork Shuffle

Portugal is a highly bureaucratic country. And the Portuguese language is not terribly welcoming.

Though English is widely spoken here, none of the many, many forms you need to complete are in English. You don’t want to flub one small line-item because of a lost-in-translation moment, only to have your application rejected, forcing you to begin again.

Moreover, challenges definitely exist.

For instance, your visa application will require that you prove you have a local bank account and a so-called NIF, a tax identification number given to all Portuguese citizens (something similar to a Social Security number, but not quite). You need the NIF to open the bank account.

Portugal no longer requires that non-EU applicants use a local tax representative to apply for a NIF. But again, this is a Portuguese document, and unless you’re fluent in the language, or know someone who is, having a pro manage the NIF and banking process alleviates likely headaches trying to deal with this from overseas.

My chosen bank rejected my bank account application because Yulia has a Russian passport and is a stay-at-home mom, and some bank pencil-pusher wasn’t happy that I couldn’t document that she had an income. Because she didn’t have an income! Because she’s a stay-at-home mom!

Like I said, bureaucratic—sometimes illogically so.

The agency I used, Global Citizen Solutions (GSC), quickly found a different bank, counseled me to apply alone, and restarted the ultimately successful application process. (By the way, I don’t benefit in any way by recommending GSC. I’m just sharing my experience with you.) The team was good at answering my questions and dealing with obstacles that arose, like the banking issue or quickly obtaining a NIF for my stepson when the school where Yulia registered him required that he present one.

You’ll also have to deal with SEF (basically the Foreign Ministry) to file documents and to set up an appointment for your final “interview,” which is really just applying for your biometric residency card (sort of like a US driver’s license). That can be its own hassle, because SEF has offices all over Portugal, and you have no idea which office SEF will assign you to visit.

You might move to Lisbon, but your SEF appointment could be hours away in another city. Best to have a pro experienced in dealing with SEF and meeting you at the SEF office to manage the paperwork.

Hiring a Pro: Worth the Cost

The cost of hiring lawyers and tax pros to help you navigate Portugal’s visa process isn’t cheap. But I’ll say that the peace of mind in knowing you’re highly likely to be approved because you used a pro is, to me, worth the price of admission.

We paid more than €5,000 (about $5,500) for everything we needed. But our situation as a three-person, American-Russian/Ukrainian family relocating from the Czech Republic was slightly more complex than, say, for an older couple or a single person moving from the US.

Our fee included: the D8 application for me, as well as separate family reunification visas for both Yulia and Leo; application fees for three NIF numbers; opening a bank account; and travel fees for a GSC representative to attend the SEF meetings because ours were set for Leiria, two hours north of Lisbon.

The cost also included a separate application fee for the NHR tax regime. That was one of the biggest reasons I wanted to move to Portugal in the first place—and a key reason why Portugal slipped to #2 in International Living’s 2024 rankings.

So, let me explain the NHR situation briefly, because it has changed and that might well color your decision about Portugal.

The NHR Program: Get In While You Still Can

The NHR program was put in place several years ago to attract foreigners with incomes and assets larger than local norms.

Though Portugal is a Western European country, the net average monthly income here at about €1,162 (less than $1,300) is among the lowest outside the former Soviet Bloc in southeastern Europe.

Those accepted into the program do not pay taxes on global income for 10 years, while income earned in Portugal is taxed at a flat 20%, less than half Portugal’s normal tax rate.

Dividends, meanwhile, are taxed at 0% for a decade as well.

The issue here is that last fall, Portugal announced the NHR program would end in 2024. However, the government that announced the plan’s demise then fell apart and a new government took over.

The new government put a hold on scrapping the NHR, realizing that it brings huge benefits to the country. Instead, the new government has created what it calls a “transitional regime” as it moves away from the old program and toward something new… and as yet unknown.

At this point, that means the NHR program as it currently exists looks to remain in place through the end of 2024. Which means that anyone who immigrates to Portugal this year could possibly be grandfathered in because the government, as it has stated, wants to “safeguard the legitimate expectations of people who have already made the decision to immigrate” to Portugal.

That said, there is a lot of uncertainty around this. My contacts at GCS say that immigrants had to arrive in Portugal before the end of 2023. But other accounts I’ve read say that the new Socialist Party government “proposes that the regime will apply also to anyone who ‘becomes a resident for tax purposes by December 31, 2024.’”

So, I can’t guarantee that a new immigrant will be grandfathered in. But I will say that if a lower tax rate is part of your want-list, and Portugal appeals to you, then you’ll want to consider a move this year.

Indeed, because of the NHR program—coupled with America’s Foreign Earned Income Exclusion (FEIE) that lets me write off the first $126,500 in personal income for 2024—my all-in global tax rate is in the 10% range.

The D7 and D8 Visa Requirements

A D7 retirement/passive income visa requires an annual income of €8,460, or just under $9,300—basically $780 per month in passive income.

The D8 digital nomad visa requires applicants to prove they earn at least €3,040 per month, or about $3,325.

These numbers are tied to Portuguese minimum incomes and are subject to change as Portuguese minimums change.

Aside from the NIF and the NHR program, the visa application process is generally straightforward in terms of documentation. Here’s what else I had to submit:

• Passports and a couple of passport photos
• Birth certificates, apostilled

Apostilles can take time to obtain. If you were born in, say, Iowa, and you now live in, say, Maine, you’ll need to send your original birth certificate to the Iowa Secretary of State and pay to have the document apostilled.

• Marriage certificate, apostilled

The same process for marriage certificates, assuming one’s married. The certificate must be apostilled in the state where you were married.

• Proof of employment

In my case, as an independent writer working on contract, I needed to send a copy of my employment contract, as well as ask International Living to send me a notarized letter attesting to my employment and my annual salary.

Both had to be translated into Portuguese and notarized locally.

• A copy of my résumé, which I’ve never had because all my jobs have landed in my lap sans résumé. So I had to create one.

• Proof of funds

Portugal wants to see that you have money in a Portuguese bank to support yourself (this is why you need that Portuguese bank account).

For the D8 visa, there’s a calculation based on whether you want a one-year visa (temporary stay, then leave), or a two-year visa (permanent stay, aiming for citizenship).

I wanted the two-year version, so with two adults and a child, I had to show roughly €40,000 (about $44,000) in my Portuguese bank account.

For the D7 passive-income visa, they’ll want to see proof by way of bank statements, brokerage statements, etc. that you have that €8,460 in passive income annually.

If you’re applying with a spouse or another adult, you’ll need to show an additional €4,230 (about $4,620) per adult. And with kids or dependents over the age of 18, you’ll need another €2,544 ($2,775) per person.

• Proof of health insurance

This is one of the two most challenging processes.

You need to prove you have health insurance that’s valid in Portugal. GCS told us we needed to show coverage for a year, given the length of the visa we were applying for.

Others told us we needed it just for a few months, until we received our residence cards.

There was no clarity and GCS urged me to err on the side of caution, lest my application collapse. The firm has a 100% success rate, so I erred on the side of caution and looked for a year-long policy.

I found one through a Portuguese health insurance firm, but I was told we needed travel medical insurance for the application, not a traditional Portuguese health plan.

So I bailed on the Portuguese insurance and bought a year-long plan from AXA, which offered a Schengen Plan, good throughout Europe’s entire Schengen Zone.

Alas, AXA’s “one-year” Schengen Plan is about as useful as whipping out a roll of toilet paper as an umbrella.

The plan is, without sounding too harsh, absolutely stupid and pointless. It’s only good for three-month intervals, which is typically the time one is allowed into Europe’s Schengen Zone on a tourist visa.

I discovered the wrinkle after heading to the doctor four months into our new residency. My claim was rejected because I’d been in the Schengen Zone for more than three months. Like, what the hell is the point of selling a one-year plan if the buyer can’t use it across a full-year? At the absolute most, it’s a 180-day plan, since that is all the time you’d be allowed to remain in Europe as a tourist.

So. Totally. Stupid.

And a waste of nearly $1,000, since AXA won’t refund me the pro-rata portion of the insurance we can no longer use.

Thus, I will tell you now: Do not buy an AXA one-year Schengen plan as a way to meet the visa application’s health insurance requirement.

Instead, I wish we’d just bought the Portuguese plan I found, which is what we are now in the process of doing.

The lighter side of this frustration is that Portuguese healthcare is quite affordable.

My visit last fall to a doctor for an ear issue was €100 ($110), but—and this is the crazy part—I showed them a health discount card given to me by my electricity provider, and the cost of the visit plunged to just €30 ($33).

That’s a nice insider’s tip if you move to Portugal—electricity giant EDP, as well as hypermarket chain Continente, offer cards that provide meaningful healthinsurance discounts.

• Personal Statement

This is a document detailing for Portuguese immigration officials why you want to move to and live in Portugal. It’s a dry document, really. Nothing like professing one’s love of the Algarve and noshing on pastel de nata custard pastries for breakfast in Lisbon every morning.

It’s a more formal affair explaining who you are, how much you earn, what your passport number is, etc. Among other boring details, I had to explain how my income is derived and why it’s split between bank accounts in Europe and the US.

Again, this is why I’m happy to have had GCS on the case. They told me what to write and how it should be phrased. There’s no chance I would have written it correctly on my own the first time around. (In fact, I didn’t—I still had to redo it twice more to clarify certain points.)

• FBI Report

Straightforward enough. But there are some wrinkles to know about.

Do not open the document when it’s received. A sealed envelope is proof to the Portuguese officials that the document hasn’t been tampered with.

Also, if you have anything in your background that might show up on an FBI report, talk to a Portugal immigration expert about whether it potentially creates a problem.

• Proof of housing

This is the second of those two “most challenging frustrations.” A true chicken/egg conundrum.

Portuguese officials want proof that you have housing lined up. But you generally need to be in Portugal to line up housing.

The Most Difficult Part of Moving: Finding Housing From Overseas

Trying to rent an apartment in Portugal from abroad is intensely difficult.

First, you really have no idea what neighborhood you want to call home unless you’ve already spent a significant amount of time in the city of your choosing.

And if you’re moving with a school-age kid, you might not have any idea what school he or she will get into, making your apartment search problematic, if not pointless.

Note to parents: If you want your child in a private school, you really need to begin that process in early spring—or earlier—for fall enrollment.

Second, Portuguese landlords are leery of foreign renters and many of them have learned to ask for an entire year’s rent upfront. If you’re looking for a nice two- or three-bedroom place in a town like Cascais, the core of Lisbon, parts of the Algarve, and the center of Porto, that’s the equivalent of €24,000 to €36,000 ($26,000–$39,000) or more on top of the bank deposits you need to make and the fees you’ll be paying to a visa agency.

Relocating to Portugal is not an insignificant commitment.

And because of the timing involved in applying for a visa and when the temporary visa is ultimately issued, you will almost assuredly be paying rent on an apartment or house that you’re not actually living in yet. Just roll with it; that’s the only advice I can offer.

The work-around—and it’s not available to everyone—is something called the Term of Responsibility, or Termo de Responsabilidade in Portuguese.

It’s a document signed by a Portuguese citizen, or a foreigner with Portuguese residency status stating that they will be responsible for your housing for a period of time.

That’s the path I ultimately took because I know someone who has Portuguese residency and was willing to sign the document for me (and to have it notarized for me in Portugal).

If you don’t have that option, then I would tell you to check out Idealista.pt, a rental site for the entirety of Portugal. Find apartments you like, reach out to the owner and/or agent noted on the listing, explain that you’re moving to Portugal, and that you’re looking to rent as part of your visa application.

Some will work with you. Some won’t care. Some won’t respond. I had decent success explaining my situation to agents, but I also had landlords who said the Portuguese equivalent of “tough nuggies.”

Be aware that in certain areas—particularly the cities in and around Cascais, and the centers of Lisbon and Porto—local renters snap up the really nice apartments fast. So you might not be of interest to a landlord if they have to wait for you to arrive to see the place and decide if you want it or not.

If you really, really want a particular apartment and the landlord seems iffy, overbid the rental price by a bit and offer to pay even while you’re still going through the visa process.

If you have the means, I would highly suggest you fly to Portugal to visit the area where you want to live. Is it really where you want to be?

My wife and I found our lovely apartment in Cascais… but we’re in the worst neighborhood. I joke that it’s like a Brazilian favela (shantytown). It’s not really, but the place is unacceptably loud at night, clearly lower income, and really not to our liking. The good news: You can usually break a lease pretty easily. Or so we’re told.

Which is why we’ll be moving soon. We’re actually looking to buy a house or apartment now because Portugal is such a comfortable place to live.

Now, We’re Living The Good Life

As I write this, Yulia and I are now six months into our new Portuguese life. And I can say that life feels easy here. Relaxing. Laidback.

We’re a seven-minute drive from a wide, long stretch of beach known as Guincho (gheen-cho) that looks wild and remote, despite its proximity to urban civilization. In late summer and into early October, Yulia and Leo were there for several hours a day, three or four days a week. We’re a five-minute walk from a fantastic sushi bar we love and, oddly, a Lebanese restaurant as authentic as any I tried while traveling through Beirut and the Bekaa Valley a few years ago.

Every modern retailer we could want is nearby, and the hypermarkets are packed with pretty much everything we need. Yulia has even found Russian products that were Leo’s favorites back in Crimea.

Only thing I can’t find are fresh jalapeños and some other foods and ingredients I miss from back home (who knew Pop-Tarts and Cracklin’ Oat Bran cereal were addictive?). Then again, I’m not worried I might die in a mass-shooting while shopping for a pot roast.

Over Christmas, we bought our first car in Europe—a 2023 Mini Countryman—and we’ve eagerly been tooling around the country and hitting smaller towns in our region. We happened upon a naturally occurring ocean swimming pool at the bottom of a cliff in the tiny seaside village of Azenhas do Mar. And down in Setubal, just south of Lisbon, we found an oceanside seafood eatery with the freshest raw oysters and seared scallops I’ve had in years.

Moving to Portugal on a digital nomad visa hasn’t been the most affordable move I’ve made; there are some serious costs involved. And the process, even with GCS handholding along the way, was at times frustrating.

But just power through it. Because once you’re settled in, life here in Portugal is pretty sweet. Even Yulia is glad her no became a yes.