LIS-MRS-PMS-BCN

I knew not where I’d end up, only where I’d begin: Lisbon. I flew there to meet the ex-Hollywood man for his tennis tournament and watched him serve a few world championship aces. He scolded me for not cheering loud enough. His cheers were much louder when I served my volley in the humid hotel room. It was the hottest week of the summer indeed—too warm for romance. When the coastline cooled in the evenings, we’d carelessly get lost in the city’s narrow folds. Gay bars were like oases scattered along the snaking routes. To me, Lisbon had an air of secrecy to it…