19: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

17 March 2026

There's a particular kind of relief that doesn't feel like relief at first. It feels more like: wait, did that actually just work?

That's roughly what happened when I got a text this morning and found out that we finally — finally — have a visa appointment. April 15th. San Francisco. In person, with a suitcase full of paperwork.

And then, just after I'd written some about that, gone to the gym, returned home and was sipping a cup of coffee back with the intent to go finish this blog post, my phone rang.

Our realtor. With an offer on the house.

I'm going to need a moment.

The Bottleneck Nobody Warns You About

When you're trying to move to Portugal on a D7 visa, there are a lot of tasks to get done. I've covered those in past posts; criminal background checks, proof of housing, health insurance… All real, all important. But there's a bottleneck in the process that is affecting everyone. You can have every single document in perfect order and still be stuck — because you can't get a VISA appointment.

The Portuguese Consulate in San Francisco handles visa applications for a significant chunk of the western United States. In-person appointments are required. And from what I've watched over the past month, the availability can be almost shockingly limited. We're talking perhaps twelve slots in an entire month. For everyone in our region trying to do what we're doing.

Twelve.

Enter VisaBot

I'm not particularly prone to paying for things I feel like I should be able to do myself. But after watching appointment slots evaporate in real time — gone within minutes of appearing — I accepted that refreshing a browser window manually was not a winning strategy.

We signed up for a service called VisaBot. It costs around $200, and what it does is monitor the consulate's appointment portal around the clock, then it doesn't just alert you when a slot opens — it books it for you and sends confirmation.

I'll be honest: $200 felt like a gamble at the time. It doesn't feel like a gamble anymore. This morning, April 15th appeared, VisaBot scheduled us in that slot and now we have an appointment as well as an email from VFS.GLOBAL letting us know when and where our appointment is.

Worth. Every. Penny.

I woke my lovely wife up this morning with the news and she was, to say the least, ecstatic.

We went off to the gym a short time later – still very excited and starting to mentally do all the planning we needed to do to make this work. We got home, and talked even more about this over breakfast – including when she should quit working at her job.

And Then the Phone Rang

I was still sitting with the quiet satisfaction of having locked in the appointment when our realtor called.

We have an offer on the house.

If everything goes through — and I'm trying very hard not to get ahead of myself here — our closing date would be April 17th. Two days after our visa appointment.

Let me say that again, because I'm still processing it myself: visa appointment on April 15th, house closing on April 17th. Back to back. Two of the biggest remaining pieces of this entire puzzle, landing within 2 days of each other.

I don't have a word for what that feels like exactly. Somewhere between exhilarating and completely terrifying, with a healthy side of is this actually real life?

A Little Sooner Than Expected

Here's the thing about getting what you wanted: sometimes it arrives faster than you were ready for — and sometimes several things arrive at once and you just have to hold on.

April 15th was already closer than we had planned. We had been mentally preparing for sometime in May or even June, which gave us a comfortable cushion for everything that still needs to fall into place. April 15th does not offer that cushion. April 15th is coming. And now April 17th is right behind it.

So now we're running a compressed race to a very specific finish line, with a few things that still need to fall into place before we get there:

The house offer needs to close. We have the offer. Now comes the inspection, the negotiation of any findings, the paperwork, and the prayer that nothing unexpected surfaces. We've been through this rodeo once already with our rental property — which had a chimney, a sewer line, a vapor barrier, some mold, and a few other surprises to offer us. We're cautiously optimistic and actively knocking on wood. This one is a much newer house, so we're cautiously optimistic the surprises will be fewer.

Our vehicles need to sell. You can only take so much to Portugal, and our cars are not on the list.

The FBI background checks need to come back. We filed electronically, and two months is the expected turnaround. The math on that is already a little tight with April 15th in view. I'm watching the mailbox.

Healthcare in Portugal needs to be sorted. We're in the middle of comparing plans and asking questions — trying to understand what coverage actually means in practice when you're navigating a health system in a language you don't yet speak fluently.

Our apartment in Braga needs to close. This one is in motion and feels like it's on track, which is genuinely encouraging. But "in motion" and "done" are two very different things when you're dealing with international real estate.

And the retirement pay situation — six months now without a single payment from OPM, still waiting, still pushing, still making calls — that needs to resolve too. Still no resolution. Still pressing. I should also update you that I've reached out to the Columbian Newspaper who will be doing a story on this. I did a pretty comprehensive writeup on that situation for them. It's bad for me, but it's also bad for THOUSANDS of other Federal Employees and Veterans who are also not getting retirement checks.

All the Pieces, All at Once

What strikes me about this stage of the process is how everything is happening simultaneously. It's not that any one of these tasks is insurmountable on its own — it's that all of them are live at the same time, and each one has the potential to affect the others.

The house closing funds the transition. The visa appointment determines when we can legally enter Portugal. The apartment needs to be ready before we arrive. The background checks need to be in hand when we sit down at the consulate. The healthcare needs to be confirmed before the appointment. It all connects.

I've been a project manager in a previous life. I know how to track things. I know how to keep lists. I know how to stay calm when a deadline moves.

This is testing all of that — and then some.

What This Week Actually Means

But here's what I keep coming back to, underneath all the logistics and the list-checking and the white-knuckling.

A week ago, the two biggest open questions in our timeline were: when will we get a visa appointment? and will the house sell?

Today, we have answers to both of those questions. Imperfect, still-in-progress, fingers-crossed answers — but answers.

The appointment is locked. The offer is on the table. The city of Braga is waiting. Friends who are already there told us not long ago: we help one another here, and that's especially true for us, for you two.

I believe them. And I believe this is happening.

April 15th. April 17th. Back to back.

We are not complaining. Not even close.

UPDATE — Later This Same Day

This is what I meant about plate-spinning.

Within an hour of writing the above, we got news that our apostilled FBI background checks — the certified version required for the visa appointment — won't be back until April 24th. Nine days after our appointment. And no, we can't move the appointment. The consulate doesn't work that way.

So now we have three options, and none of them are perfect.

• Option one: cancel the April 15th appointment, pay another $200 to VisaBot, and hope we can grab a later slot before the summer gets away from us.

• Option two: keep the appointment, show up with what we have (We have our background checks, just not the apostilled versions.), and accept that they'll likely send us away — but with a rescheduled date issued on the spot, which is apparently standard practice.

• Option three: pay $195 per person to expedite the apostille through the FBI directly, with no guarantee it arrives in time.

We've already done the math on option three, and it doesn't add up. Nearly $400 in fees with no promise of delivery before April 15th means we'd likely be paying for the privilege of still missing the deadline. At that point, another $200 to VisaBot for a better-timed appointment is the smarter spend.

As for option two — showing up anyway — there's actually something to be said for it. We'd be in the room. We'd have everything else in hand. And if they reschedule us on the spot, we leave with a new date rather than chasing one through a bot. Plus, if there’s anything ELSE that we find needs fixing in our paperwork, we’ll learn about it then as well and will have the opportunity to rectify it. It's not the clean outcome we wanted, but it's not nothing either.

There's also a slim possibility the apostilled documents arrive early. It happens. We're not counting on it, but we're not ruling it out.

This is the part of the process nobody puts in the brochure. The part where you've done everything right, checked every box, paid every fee — and you're still at the mercy of a federal agency's timeline. I know this feeling well. I've been living it for six months with OPM.

We'll figure it out. We always do.

Stay tuned.

Have you ever had one of those weeks where everything moves at once — where the universe seems to suddenly decide it's time? We'd love to hear about it in the comments. And if you're navigating your own international move or major life transition, ask us anything — we're learning in real time and happy to share.