When my Filipino partner and I first entered a civil registry office in Portugal in October 2022, we had a simple dream: to get married here, surrounded by the Atlantic light, perhaps even to anchor part of our lives in this country that markets itself so well in glossy travel brochures. What followed were almost three years of frustration, bureaucracy, and disillusionment.
The First Attempt: Oeiras, 2022
Our first attempt to get married at the registry office in Oeiras failed almost immediately. Where one would expect guidance and professionalism, we encountered incompetence and resistance. The message was subtle but clear: foreigners are not welcome in the Portuguese system.
The Second Attempt: December 2024
Determined, we tried again at the end of 2024. This time we believed we had every piece of paperwork in order. The centerpiece of our file was again the International Certificate of No Impediment to Marriage, issued by the Berlin Registry Office. This document is the textbook example of European standardization: multilingual, legally recognized in all EU countries, with the essential information repeated in Portuguese on the reverse. Germany had thoroughly reviewed our documents, accepted them, and confirmed our eligibility to marry.
In Oeiras, however, none of this mattered.
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Officials, without any valid reason, demanded that we resubmit our birth certificates. They claimed mine had “expired” — which in itself is absurd — and that Penky’s was “illegible.” Berlin had no issue with either.
Then they insisted they couldn’t read the English-language certificate and conveniently ignored the Portuguese translations that were literally printed right in front of them. Instead, they demanded redundant duplicates of documents that had already been filed months earlier. This wasn’t mere inefficiency; it felt like a calculated tactic to delay, discourage, and ultimately obstruct.
Since May 2025 it was clear to them that we would be leaving this country on September 30, 2025. Yet after we unnecessarily resubmitted documents in June, they fell silent for more than ten weeks — only to suddenly impose a five-day deadline on September 10, 2025, to resubmit Penky’s birth certificate, this time with translation into Portuguese and a new apostille. It was not only impossible to fulfill in the time remaining; it revealed their true intention: to stall until we were gone.
Portugal fails in many ways, and this was simply one more example.
Beyond the Postcard
This bureaucratic farce was a reflection of the deeper realities we discovered in daily life. Portugal, adored by travel influencers and lifestyle magazines, projects a polished facade. But behind the postcard:
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The cost of living keeps climbing, with rents inflated to absurd levels. Apartments are often rundown and fall far short of European standards.
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Illegal rentals are widespread, with landlords demanding rent wired to foreign accounts, safely out of reach of Portuguese tax authorities.
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Much of the infrastructure is crumbling: tired, neglected, and far removed from the curated image of modern Lisbon. The funicular accident in central Lisbon is just one sad symbol of decay.
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And worst of all: a palpable lack of goodwill toward foreigners in public offices. If you don’t speak Portuguese, the door is half-closed before you even step through it.
The Bitter Irony
As a German, it’s hard to forget how much of my tax money has already been funneled into Portugal through EU bailout packages. Here, too, I’ve paid my share — working, paying taxes, contributing to the system. What I received in return from officials was, in too many cases, behavior that can only be described as scandalous.
Departure
After three and a half years, we’ve had enough. We are withdrawing our application, closing this chapter, and preparing to leave. On September 30, 2025, when our flight finally lifts off from Lisbon’s tarmac — assuming no ground staff strike and no TAP Airways fiasco — we’ll breathe a long overdue sigh of relief.
Portugal may sit inside the EU and the Eurozone, but in my view it does not live up to the obligations those memberships entail. If a registry cannot process an internationally standardized certificate from Berlin — complete with Portuguese translation — then European integration here is little more than theater.
For us, this is the final point of our Portuguese adventure. It began with hope, and it ends with clarity: some chapters must be closed.
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