Living with No Worldly Possessions

I read somewhere once that every great adventure starts with an empty room and camping beds. They weren’t wrong.

Having just landed in Portugal—cat in carrier and ready to start life in our new home—we knew we’d be spending the first few weeks with very little in the way of belongings. We had the basics, but less than you'd find in a cheap hostel: A couple of suitcases, camping beds and chairs, which we'd purchased when we collected our apartment keys a couple of months earlier. It was all the fun of camping, only inside!

At the beginning I was a little worried—but as my husband was returning to the UK the following week so the moving company could do their thing, I assured myself it wouldn’t be for long.

Although I’d packed enough toiletries for a few weeks and a selection of clothing, I did have slight despair; the clothes I'd packed were too warm for the weather. So I started raiding the second-hand stores. There are definitely less is Lisbon than in the UK (where they’re a dozen to every high street), but I found some lovely pieces in the Humana stores; a real gem of charity shops. 

Then, in an attempt to ease my recent injured back (the result of packing boxes in the UK), we found a local store that sells just about everything, including some cushions that made the camping chairs more comfortable. 

So, there we are in our cushion-festooned camping chairs, watching Netflix on a laptop balanced on an overturned suitcase.

During our first week, we spent a lot of time picking up kitchen basics, like pots, pans, plates and glasses. Downsizing before leaving the UK was a must, in terms of reducing the cost of relocation and it meant we didn’t have to wait for these things to arrive.

My husband returned to the UK for a week, while me and Kitty were left alone with a slightly less empty apartment (although the echo was still noticeable and I could hear everything from the building stairwell). I spent my time exploring the best places to locate vegan food and basic groceries. This quickly became expensive. As like a child in a sweetshop, I wanted to try out all the new brands and foods I’d not seen before.

Returning to the apartment as quickly as possible to keep our nervous Kitty company, I decided to make the most of my online yoga subscription. No mat, no problem; I practiced on the hard wood floors. I even joined a live yoga class to feel less alone in a new city. I phoned lots of friends and researched lots of information about our new country online.

Cooking without a collection of herbs and spices in the pantry is interesting. On the days we didn’t take full advantage of our furniture-less situation and visit one of the local restaurants, I’d find I was missing oregano, or craving some parsley in potato salad.

My hubby returned with good news; our worldly belongings were packed up and ready to join us in Portugal. No time had been provided yet, but we were optimistic. We arranged a trip to IKEA to buy furniture (all but our bed, which we’d decided was worth shipping from the UK) and within another two weeks, we had desks, armchairs and bookshelves. What a relief—even if I did soon get tempted to sleep on those armchairs.

Two weeks waiting for our belongings turned into two months. I was running out of patience—and toiletries!

Our optimism regarding delivery from our moving company was not justified. Two weeks turned into two months and with backwards and forwards communication, we were no closer to a date. I was running out of patience—and toiletries! And our decision to bring our bed from the UK wasn’t feeling quite so clever after all.

A bed was not an option, but my research into restocking my moisturizer and shampoo quickly turned up a new brand of organic, natural beauty products, leaving me glad we chose a city with such a wide range of alternative products, as I'd have found this more difficult somewhere remote. 

Then, 10 weeks after moving to Portugal, our possessions finally managed to move in too. It was a joyous day—although not for the moving guys, who had not been informed there was no lift in the building. Endless supplies of iced water and gratitude hopefully made them a little happier.

I spent at least six weeks of the 10 a bit stressed, complaining about the removal company, and slightly concerned that our belongings would never reach us, left adrift somewhere at sea. However, in hindsight, when our things arrived, I realized how well we’d actually managed without them for so long. I also realized how well I’d coped with a very small percentage of my wardrobe for such a long time. It was good for the soul and I think it’s made us even more conscious about how many things we really need to live.