A live episode about the honeymoon phase
This episode was a first for us: we recorded it live on Zoom, with listeners watching and asking questions in the chat. The topic was something every newcomer runs into sooner or later. What happens when the novelty wears off? Is Madeira still the place for you once the magic becomes everyday life?
What we expected before we came
Mark came with a plan, and with clear expectations. He wanted a safe place to live close to nature, and he still gets that every time he looks out of the window. Coming from the Netherlands, where lots of people share a small space and life can be stressful, he also hoped for a calmer pace and a better balance between work, family and simply living.
One expectation didn't quite work out: he thought politics on a small island would feel close and approachable. Instead, it's like everywhere else, only with more billboards. It can feel as if there's an election every month.
Catherine is the opposite example. She stumbled on Madeira without knowing it existed, came without a plan and without a secure job, during COVID, while still building her own remote business. She knew it as "the Hawaii of Europe" and quietly hoped for that lifestyle: nature, a good work-life balance and surfing, which was on her bucket list at the time. She did start surfing eventually. Because she didn't expect much, Madeira didn't disappoint.
Two kinds of newcomers
Mark noticed early on that it matters a lot where your income comes from. If you bring a remote job or savings with you, you can build a very comfortable life here. If you need to earn your money locally, it's much harder.
Catherine added a second group: travellers who fell in love with the place and simply stayed. In her town, many started out as volunteers in a hostel, like the one run by our guest Tomé in episode 8. They had to find a local job or build their own business, and that's not easy either.
You bring yourself with you
Even without many expectations, the novelty wears off eventually. Catherine often thinks of a saying among travellers:
You bring your problems with you wherever you go.
More sun, a fresh start and a lovely culture don't stop the inner work. Catherine has seen it in many people in her town, herself included. Two or three years after falling in love with the island, there's often a dip, when the past catches up and people start asking: is this really my place?
Should you prepare more before you move, then? It depends on who you are. Catherine tends to overthink, and if she had known about all the paperwork and hurdles in a language she didn't speak, she might never have made the jump. A bit of preparation is good, but not too much. As with starting a business, sometimes you just have to jump.
Island fever
Two to three years is often the breaking point. You've seen most of the island, and you either feel you belong or want to see more. On a small island, "island fever" creeps up slowly, and you can start to feel a bit claustrophobic or stuck in a bubble.
The trick is to make yourself go out, meet people and change the scenery, even if it's only going to the west side when you live in the east. Plenty of locals regularly hop over to Lisbon just to get away for a bit. As Mark put it, even a beautiful place eventually just becomes home, and sometimes you need a change of scenery to feel creative again.
Community: a blank canvas
When Catherine arrived, she was a new mum and hoped to meet other young parents. She found a couple from Scandinavia on Instagram who were missing the same thing. Their conclusion back then: Madeira is a blank canvas. You don't come here to expect things, you come here to build them. Much has changed since. Back then there was maybe one vegan restaurant, and not a very good one. Today you find all kinds of things that locals and expats have built together, with the newcomers often bringing new energy and new questions.
But "community" means different things to different people. Some like it relaxed, with no pressure to show up. Others want a second family who are in and out of each other's houses and share dinners every week. That kind of community is not really the culture here, so if you want it, you'll probably have to build it. Catherine knows people with Madeiran roots who left the island again because they didn't find the community they were looking for.
We're both people who are happy with a lot of time on our own. But if you do want company, it's easy to find these days. Mark can choose almost every day between a restaurant, yoga, the beach or the Saturday Bitcoin walk. In 2020, people found each other through Facebook, Instagram or the neighbours. Now there are so many WhatsApp groups that he sometimes scrolls past 400 messages at once. People ask for builders, rentals or help with groceries, and that's how he discovered that the dog shelter he kept hearing from his flat is right around the corner.
What we see now that we didn't see then
Mark arrived with a feeling of abundance: cheap living, beautiful nature, friendly people, plenty of sunshine. He soon learnt that there's a big gap between how newcomers see the island and how locals experience it. He still remembers the conversation in a restaurant with a woman who works two jobs to pay the bills and would have liked a bigger family, but can't afford one.
He also found that getting things done takes patience. Whether it's the authorities, an architect or a builder, he has to be a bit pushy and keep in touch almost daily.
Catherine first experienced the Portuguese as a melancholic people, and at times saw a bit of a victim mindset, as if everyone else had the opportunities except them. She still sees that in the older generation, but she understands it better now, especially after our conversation with Tomé about growing up on Madeira. The younger generation has a different vibe.
A young woman in Catherine's village who is involved in local politics told her she has mixed feelings about foreigners. Most families here can't go on holiday abroad. They go to the mainland or Porto Santo, and the only reason they'd move abroad is to earn money for the family back home. Seeing newcomers arrive with money and know-how and make everything look easy can be hard. Catherine thinks many expats underestimate how privileged they are. Even if you're not rich back home, coming from northern Europe means you've seen systems that work differently and know how things could be improved.
When new ideas meet resistance
Some newcomers get frustrated that good ideas don't get implemented, sometimes because of money or power. Catherine notices that people who have lived here for 15 or 20 years seem almost local. They speak the language, their children are part of the school system, and some may have simply given up on bringing new things. She experienced the resistance herself with the homeschooling hub she co-founded. The concept is familiar in northern Europe but new for Portugal, and it was very hard to make it work.
Mark recognises the feeling. He still has many ideas, but he has put some on hold. In his experience, a lot is possible here, even with the authorities, but only if you make it a priority and bring your own energy, because nobody will do it for you.
How do we find that energy again? Catherine works in waves. She needs lots of time alone, which might be why she lives up in the mountains, to tune out the noise and build momentum. Being a foreigner helps too: she's already a bit outside the norm in her village, so there's less social pressure. She finds that individual people usually love new ideas and are happy to join in if you take the lead. It's more the general culture, or sometimes the government, that slows things down.
Your questions from the chat
How did Catherine build a life here without a plan? She chose not to go back to Switzerland, so there was no plan B. When you only have plan A, you get creative. That sometimes means compromising, carrying on when you're out of energy, or changing direction when something doesn't work. After she separated from her son's father, she even went back to Switzerland for two months to find clients, because she knew it would get her back to Madeira. There's a note on her wall that sums it up: "No polishing, only strengthening." Each step doesn't have to be perfect, as long as it strengthens the path to your goal.
Do you have to be an entrepreneur to succeed here? Not as a job, we both think, but as a mindset, yes. Mark thinks both paths work. With English and experience from abroad, you can do very well as an employee in tourism, maybe even become a manager. Mark knows a Dutch couple in Machico: she has just started her first business, in tourism, and he trades crypto. Anyone brave enough to move abroad already has a bit of an entrepreneur in them, he says. There are trade-offs, of course. Back in his home village, he'd just call a friend to ask where to get a special light bulb. Here it took him ages to find one. And if after a few years Madeira turns out not to be your island, that's perfectly fine too.
Would we still choose Madeira today? Mark: yes. His two children live in the Netherlands, there's only an hour's time difference, and with direct flights every day he can be with them in about five hours. He loves the culture, the nature and many of the people, including a neighbour who gave him a hard time at first and is now his best friend, because he kept being kind to her.
Catherine is more careful, because she hasn't really lived anywhere else to compare. She still loves the island, just not in an over-romantic way, because she sees the downsides too. But her son grew up here, it's his home and her chosen home, her friends and community are here, and there's nowhere else she'd rather be right now. Not even Switzerland.
We're still in love with Madeira, even knowing it has another side. Want to join our next live recording? Sign up for the newsletter and we'll let you know.
