
When Mike and Neidre Via left Houston, Texas, for Setúbal, Portugal, they carried three suitcases, each with a backpack, and the determination to start over. Their move, guided by Calvin Mazlumyan of Plan B Outbound Migration and his partner law firm in Portugal, was driven by two main factors: financial reality and the search for a healthier, less stressful life.
At 66, Mike was ready to stop working. In the U.S., that didn’t seem possible. Even with Social Security, both would have needed jobs just to cover basic expenses — especially healthcare.
“If we were to stay in the States, we’d both have to work,” Mike says. “And I am done.” The risk of a major illness wiping out their savings weighed heavily on him.
For 52‑year‑old Neidre, there was also a health dimension. She was born with asthma and struggled in Houston’s polluted, car‑dependent environment, needing inhalers and pills daily. But trips to Italy in 2022 and Tenerife in 2023 changed her perspective. Days spent biking in the Dolomites and a week by the sea in the Canary Islands passed without a single asthma attack.
Europe seemed kinder to her lungs — and to their lifestyle. When Mike’s company offered early retirement in 2024, their vague plan to “move to Europe someday” suddenly felt urgent. If they stayed in the U.S., Neidre would have to work another 15–20 years before she could retire. Instead, they began looking at Portugal, a country they knew only from a surfing documentary about Nazaré.
Their first visit in July 2024 took them from Lisbon to Porto, then down to Nazaré, and finally to Faro in the Algarve. They travelled entirely by public transport to test whether they could live without a car. By the time they flew home, the decision was clear: they wanted to leave the U.S. by the end of 2025.
Through an online “move abroad” programme, they learned about the “Living in Portugal” seminar in Houston that April — the only one scheduled there for two years. They went “just for an hour” and met Calvin Mazlumyan of Plan B Outbound Migration. Within that hour, they realised they needed professional help to navigate Portugal’s visa and residency system.
Calvin and his Portuguese partner law firm, NSM, handled the logistics: opening a Portuguese bank account, creating detailed document checklists, and booking their VFS visa appointment (the earliest available was October 30). The lawyers’ eye for detail proved crucial. They caught that the couple’s rental contract in Portugal was for one year, not the two years required for residency, and had it corrected. They also flagged the need for an apostille on their marriage certificate, prompting a same‑day dash from Houston to Austin to get it in time.
Timing was everything. Many documents must be issued within 30–90 days of the appointment. Without expert guidance, Mike and Neidre admit they would have missed key deadlines.
The biggest shock came when Mike’s FBI background check flagged a minor, decades‑old issue dating back to 1997. Their visa was initially denied. With only about two weeks to appeal and Thanksgiving looming, NSM drafted a legal appeal, told them exactly what proof to gather, and resubmitted the file. The appeal succeeded. On December 31, their visas were approved; on January 19, they landed in Portugal — just as Storm Ingrid hit.
They had already committed to Setúbal, a city they had never visited but chose strategically. Coming from Greater Houston’s four million people, they didn’t want to jump into a village of a few thousand. Setúbal offered urban energy, hospitals, a strong public transport network, and nearby beaches. Lisbon is just 40–50 minutes away by frequent train.
With the help of a local estate agent referred by Neidre’s realtor sister, they rented a fully furnished three‑bed, two‑bath apartment near Praça do Brasil, opposite the train station. The landlord, who lives in Tróia, had stocked it with dishes and cleaning supplies. After selling or giving away all their belongings in Houston — cars, furniture, even hundreds of souvenir shot glasses — they arrived with only clothes and essentials.
Life in Setúbal has settled into a gentle rhythm. Their building is mostly home to older Portuguese residents; few speak English. There’s a café downstairs and several more within a block. They bought bikes, joined a gym about 2 km away, and organised their days around workouts, grocery trips, beach outings, castle visits, and evenings with wine at local cafés. The regulars now bring them snacks and chat; they, in turn, are learning Portuguese phrase by phrase, with help from Google Translate and their neighbours’ patience.
They’ve made a deliberate choice to avoid expat meetups. “We want to be part of the Portuguese culture,” says Neidre. As a Black American woman with natural hair, she’s often assumed to be Brazilian or Angolan and addressed in Portuguese. Mike is often mistaken for a European. These assumptions, combined with daily immersion, are slowly improving their language skills.
Looking back, both say they wish they had moved earlier — but they’re clear that without Calvin and Plan B Outbound Migration, the move might never have happened. From correcting leases and tracking expiry dates to drafting a time‑critical legal appeal, the support they received transformed a daunting bureaucracy into a solvable puzzle.
Today, the soundtrack of their lives is no longer Houston traffic and hold music from insurance companies. It’s the clatter of coffee cups downstairs, the whistle of the train across the street, and the sea breeze on the promenade. When Calvin visited recently, he told them they looked like different people — lighter, younger, and completely at ease.
They came for lower costs and better healthcare. They stayed for something they hadn’t quite planned on: lazy afternoons at the café, bikes instead of cars, neighbours who bring wine and peanuts to the table — and the delicious realisation that, somehow, this “Plan B” has become the life they were looking for all along.
View original source — Portugal Resident ↗



