As I’m preparing to move my life from the flat, windy landscapes of the Netherlands to the rugged beauty of Portugal, I imagined my biggest challenges would involve figuring out how to order lunch in Portuguese without accidentally asking for something bizarre, or maybe getting lost on a winding cobblestone street. You know, the kind of charming, mildly frustrating things that come with moving to a new country. What I didn’t expect was to be glued to news reports about wildfires tearing through the north of Portugal.
Portugal is known for its warmth. The sun that kisses the hillsides, the people who greet you with a smile and a meal, the kind of warmth that makes you think, “Yes, I could live here.” But right now, the fires raging across the north of the country have put a much darker spin on that idea of warmth. It’s hard to imagine such destruction in a place I’ve always pictured as tranquil and green.
It feels strange to think about starting a new chapter while another part of the country is battling flames that are forcing people to flee their homes and livelihoods. I can’t help but think about the small villages I’ve come to love on my visits, where the pace of life feels slower, the air fresher, and the local pastel de nata even sweeter. These are the kinds of places that make you feel instantly at home, even if you’ve only just arrived. And now, many of those homes are under threat.
A Sobering Reality
Portugal’s fire season has become an all-too-familiar reality, exacerbated by rising temperatures and the droughts that follow. But seeing the news this time around feels different. Maybe it’s because Portugal isn’t just a place on the map for me anymore; it’s about to become home. And when you’re preparing to call a place home, the struggles and losses that happen there feel personal.
I’ll admit, I feel a little helpless, sitting here trying to organize my life into boxes while entire communities are being turned to ash. It puts into perspective just how fragile everything can be. One day you’re dreaming about which seaside town to visit next, and the next you’re hoping those same towns are still standing when you get there.
The Portuguese Spirit
But if there’s one thing I’ve come to understand about the Portuguese, it’s that they are as resilient as they come. I’ve seen it in their history, their hospitality, and even in the way they navigate everyday life. There’s an underlying toughness here—a quiet strength, the kind that doesn’t need to boast about overcoming hardship because it’s so ingrained in who they are.
As the fires burn, I’ve seen that resilience come to life in the stories of neighbours helping each other, firefighters risking everything, and communities rallying together to protect what they can. It’s humbling to witness from afar, knowing that soon I’ll be among them, learning what it really means to be a part of this beautiful, complicated country.
What can we do?
It’s easy to feel powerless when nature rages, but one thing this journey has taught me is that even the smallest gestures can make a difference. Whether it’s contributing to local efforts, raising awareness, or simply keeping the people affected by the fires in our thoughts, we can all play a part.
And if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that Portugal will bounce back. The hills will be green again, the smell of grilling sardines will fill the air, and the Portuguese spirit will continue to shine through, even in the darkest times.
For now, I’m sending every ounce of hope and strength I can muster to the north of Portugal, while holding on to the belief that the fires will pass, and the warmth of this country will be about its people, its landscapes, and its food once again—just not its flames.
Embracing the unexpected
If I’ve learned anything from this journey so far, it’s that nothing is ever quite as you plan. But that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? You adapt, you adjust, and sometimes you just have to stop and reflect, even if it’s about things you wish weren’t happening.
So as I continue packing my bags, a little part of me is already there, in Portugal, hoping for rain, for safety, and for a quick end to this chapter of uncertainty. And soon enough, I’ll be there to witness the resilience and recovery firsthand. Until then, I’ll be keeping the north in my thoughts, as we all wait for cooler winds to carry away the smoke. But let’s be honest, it does scare me.
com carinho,
Paulo