So, Who IS Moving To Portugal?
The statistics and what an immigrant goes through to continue their legal stay.
On a rainy evening on March 7, 2023, I stepped off the plane to a country I’d never visited — Portugal. Having no clue about the language, culture, or why the coffee is so strong, I did know one thing: they offered an attractive five-year path to dual citizenship and had beaches, lots of beaches. Spoiler alert — that shiny five-year plan? Yeah, it’s now morphing into six, maybe seven, and rumor has it, ten years if the bureaucracy gods aren’t in a good mood.
Fast forward two years and seven months, and I’ve just finished uploading the 14 required documents to renew my residência card. Fourteen. Not an easy process, mind you. I’ve heard tales of immigrants having public meltdowns, missing key deadlines, and discovering that “I don’t know what I don’t know” is the official motto of the ongoing immigration process.
Peeling the Portuguese Onion
All this bureaucracy got me thinking: Who is actually moving to Portugal? You hear media hype about “millions fleeing the U.S.” for cheaper living and political peace. But what are the facts, ma’am?
According to Portugal’s Agency for Integration, Migration and Asylum (AIMA), “The number of Americans living in Portugal jumped 36% from 14,129 in 2023 to 19,258 in 2024.” That’s 5,129 additional arrivals trading Costco memberships for cobblestone streets. This increase has been fueled by lower living costs, better (and cheaper) healthcare, and a higher overall quality of life. Basically, Portugal has become part of the European dream sequence in the American midlife crisis movie.
Portugal´s overall population is 10,425,292 (2024)
Brazilian nationality still dominates the foreign resident scene, accounting for 31.4% of the total 1.5 million foreign residents. The Brazilians are winning this game by a landslide, and it makes sense with the ease of the same basic language. If you want a two-cup-of-coffee (or two-glass-of-wine) kind of read, you can dive into the full AIMA report — in Portuguese, naturally. But if you’re considering immigrating here, it’s worth a skim. The graphs alone are informative and helpful, depending on your caffeine levels.
The Numbers Game (and Yes, We’re a Tiny Blip)
Only 1.5% of Portugal’s immigrant population is from the United States — a mere sprinkling of Americans among the global mix. Of course, big cities like Lisbon and Porto see the most newcomers overall from across the globe, the majority between 18 and 44 years old, trying to balance remote work and figuring out why so many shops close for lunch. Male immigrants count for (56.1%), apparently all in search of a better life, warmer weather, or maybe they just like dealing with mildew.
If you want to dig deeper, The Portugal News has an English-language breakdown of these demographics (and mercifully, no Deepl Translate required). It includes information on the retirees moving to Portugal.
The Sparks, Nevada Encounter
For 2025, I’m told by reliable sources (read: everyone with an opinion and a WhatsApp group) that immigration to Portugal remains strong. Two weeks ago, while getting documents copied at the office store — yes, that glamorous part of expat life no one puts on Facebook — I heard a familiar accent. I asked a couple where they were visiting from, and the woman replied, “Sparks, Nevada.” What a small world.
We chatted about Reno, Lake Tahoe, and their dream of retiring and living in Europe. They were on a scouting trip, the reconnaissance mission many immigrants take before jumping into their new life. Some of us just blindly go (ahem)! Will Portugal win out over Italy, France, or Greece for this couple? Time will tell. But my money’s on Portugal — it’s hard to compete with affordable healthcare and €2 vinho verde.
Residency Reality Check
Here’s something most folks don’t know: in Portugal, as an immigrant, the polícia can stop you on the street and ask for proof of legal residency. You must carry your actual residência card at all times — no photocopies, no screenshots, no excuses. I’m okay with this for two reasons:
I don’t give the polícia any reason to detain me or suspect I´m a terrorist.
I fully understand that being accepted into another country is a privilege, not a right.
I understand firsthand that when one immigrates, the host country doesn’t owe you acceptance. I wish more immigrants — including those in my native country — remembered that little detail.
Fourteen Documents, One Mild Breakdown
So, as I wrap up nearly three weeks of chasing my tail through Portugal’s bureaucratic maze, I’m feeling equal parts grateful and emotionally exhausted. Let’s just say the process involved:
Uploading documents, each under 2MB (because apparently Portugal’s servers are powered by espresso machines).
Notarizing forms in Portuguese via long distance with my helpful, gracious landlord and WhatsApp.
Reworking letters created (in Portuguese) by a dear friend to submit for all circumstances that don´t apply to me, such as a college internship and dependent children.
A fresh reminder that a foreign country’s government process is just that, foreign. We gripe about the bureaucracy, but in reality, I don´t find Portugal that complicated… just different, which makes any process, well, complicated.
And yes, taking multiple 35-minute bus rides followed by a 20-minute walk just to print one document. Why, because I trust the person behind the counter with my sensitive documents.
It even took me four hours to figure out how to pay the renewal fee at a Portuguese ATM, using a 15-digit code and one helpful YouTube video I watched three times and took notes on. But I did it! Little daily baby steps, one bureaucratic victory at a time.
Now, I wait an unknown amount of time for immigration to review everything and forward their decision. As one gal pal said, “It´s a small price to pay for the privilege to live in paradise.” I agree.
Lock it Down
My residência card expired in late August, so until the Portuguese gods say I can stay for 3 more glorious years, I can´t leave the country. (Yes, I know all about the digital 6-month extension). But here´s the kicker: my passport is up for renewal. I was advised not to renew said passport until my immigration appointment is completed, as a new passport number would surely trigger a frenzy from the Portuguese government. All governments are the same: the boxes have to be checked, and there is mass confusion if something is different. So, basically, I´m grounded in Portugal for an undetermined period of time. Tell that to a serial traveler!!! Needless to say, I´m already climbing the walls, having not traveled in two whole months. That´s two whole months!
Time to Breathe (and Maybe Milk a Goat)
What better way to spend months of immigration lockdown than to travel, of course. I’m heading north to pet sit and explore the lesser-known interior countryside of Portugal for three weeks. There will be a cozy wood stove for heat, sketchy wifi, goats next door, hiking trails, and a village so small that Google Earth got confused. It’s the perfect place to check out, recharge, read a good book (or three), and practice my Portuguese — since I’m told no one in the village speaks English. Rubbing elbows with old school Portugal sounds magical and adventurous. Hopefully, in the next few months, the immigration gods will smile upon me. After all, I´m one of the 1.5 million immigrants who call Portugal home.
Thank you for your support. See you in a few weeks!