A New Life in Lisbon

Tomás had been living in Lisbon for three weeks when he finally admitted that he was exhausted. He had been working long hours, and he climbed the steep streets of the old town every day. He wasn’t used to the noisy trams, the hills or eating dinner at ten o’clock.

His new colleagues were friendly, and slowly he was getting used to the rhythm of the office. At first he had found the long lunch breaks strange, but now he looked forward to them. “You’ll get used to everything,” Beatriz told him. “Even the trams.”

On Friday evening he sat by the window and wrote to his sister. “I finish my first month here this week,” he typed. “Next week I’m flying to Madrid, so I’ll be sleeping in my old room.” He smiled and deleted the last sentence. Madrid was no longer the only place he called home.

Then he wrote about his plans. “By next June I’ll have learnt enough Portuguese to follow a conversation. By this time next year I’ll be giving presentations in Portuguese, and I’ll have saved enough money for a flat with a balcony.”

He pressed send and closed the laptop. Outside, a tram rattled up the hill. For the first time in weeks, he had stopped looking for the way back. He was simply listening, and the city sounded almost familiar.