A year in, we counted every bill, fee, and surprise. The short version: Porto can stretch a runway if you live like locals, ride transit, and use the public school system. If you bolt on a car and an international school, your cushion melts. Below is the exact math, with 2026 prices and the simple …
Americans say “Cheerios” like it’s one universal thing, the same way people say “Coca-Cola” like it’s one recipe. In Europe, that assumption breaks almost immediately. Not because Europeans have a better moral compass. Because “Cheerios” in Europe is not necessarily the same product you grew up with in the U.S., even when the box looks …
If you say “Azores” out loud to an American, you can watch the fantasy form in real time. Green cliffs, hydrangeas, whales, slow mornings, and a quiet Atlantic life where money stretches because it is not Lisbon and it is definitely not New York. That fantasy is not totally wrong. The Azores can be cheaper …
So here is the pattern locals notice before newcomers do. People arrive with soft plans and big relief, breathe for a season, then quietly list their apartment by month nine and are gone by month twelve. They didn’t move for work. They moved for a feeling. The phrase is always the same: slower pace of …
The first time you try to refill an American prescription in Europe, you learn a harsh truth fast: your prescription is not a passport. In the US, a prescription feels like a clean, portable thing. A doctor wrote it. A pharmacy fills it. You pay. You leave. If you move states, it’s annoying, but it’s …
It was not a dramatic bill. No five-figure hospital nightmare. No surprise lawsuit. No “your roof is collapsing” emergency. It was an ordinary invoice for an ordinary household service. The kind you pay, grumble about, and forget. Except we didn’t forget it. Because it did something most relocation content refuses to do. It made Europe …
€35,000 sounds like a scam, a ruin, or a miracle. In southern Italy, it can be none of those, but only if you treat the purchase like paperwork first and a dream second. The listing was the kind Americans forward to each other with twelve exclamation points. “€35,000 apartment near the coast.” You already know …
There’s a very specific moment that happens right after an American books flights to Europe. They open a dozen tabs, see the words “unlimited train travel,” and their brain does the travel math wrong in real time. Unlimited sounds safe. It sounds flexible. It sounds like you’re being smart, not cheap. It also sounds like …
Italians eat pasta at 1 PM and stay thin while Americans eat salads at noon and gain weight, and the difference isn’t the food – it’s when they eat it. My Roman neighbor weighs the same at 68 as she did at 28, eating full meals twice daily at precisely timed windows while I was …
If you’ve ever watched an American book a Europe trip, you’ve seen the same move. They pick the city they’re excited about, then they pick the biggest airport in that city, then they pay whatever it costs because “that’s where you fly into.” Paris equals CDG. London equals Heathrow. Rome equals FCO. Barcelona equals BCN. …
The listing photos showed a stone farmhouse in the Dordogne, two hours east of Bordeaux. Three bedrooms, exposed beams, original fireplace, nearly an acre of land. Needs work. €45,000. My friend James, a semi-retired architect from Denver, saw exactly what the listing intended him to see: a dream waiting to be uncovered beneath decades of …
The first week, nothing felt dramatic. No hunger panic. No heroic willpower. No sad desk salad energy. Just smaller plates showing up like that’s normal and the world isn’t ending. Week two is when it got weird. Not the food. The way your brain starts scanning for the missing part. The extra side. The second …