En av et knippe bøker jeg har jkløpt fordi jeg falt for coveret. Ikke alle kjøp har vært like vellykkede, men denne var det. Sjelden har jeg nytt en bok så mye som denne, og da siste setning var lest, hadde jeg aller mest lyst til å begynne forfra igjen. Ukas sitat er hentet fra en søsters beskrivelse av sin avdøde brors konfliktfylte drøm om å være på reise og samtidig være hjemme:

«I was nine then and glad he was back; today I would say it was a mistake,» she had said. But he was homesick for Lisbon, he was always homesick, as soon as he was away, he wanted to be back, there was in him both the crazy love of trains and this homesickness, he was full of contradictions, my big, beaming brother, there was the traveller in him, the man with wanderlust, he was fascinated by the Trans-Siberian Railroad, Vladivostok was a holy name in his mouth, and there was also the other in him, the one with this homesickness, it’s like thirst, he’d say, when it attacks me, homesickness, it’s like an unbearable thirst, maybe I have to know the train routes so I can come home any time, I couldn’t bear it in Siberia, just imagine: the pounding of the wheels over many days and nights, it would take me farther away from Lisbon, ever farther.»

Raimund Gregorius, lærer i klassiske språk ved et gymnas i Bern, støter en regntung morgen på en kvinne som ser ut til å ville ta sitt eget liv ved å ta spranget ut i det store intet fra Kirchenfeldbrücke. I stedet for å hoppe, følger den portugisiske damen med Gregorius til skolen, hvor hun får tørket seg, og med en kopp godt og varmt noe, smyger ned på en ledig plass i klasserommet. Dette tilfeldige møtet snur opp-ned på Gregorius’ liv.

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