The flight to Lisboa went well. When we arrived we took a small Mercedes taxi. It was black and so shiny! Who knows maybe it came straight from the factory. The driver, a deeply tanned old man with a charming smile (who reminded me of my grandfather), looked at me in the mirror. ”Você é de Portugal?”, “I’m swedish” I replied with a smile. Then he looked at my sister, "I'm also from Sweden, we are sisters" she said. He looked at us suspiciously. "Sisters? From Sweden?" I explained that my dad was from Chile and half portuguese and my mum from Chile, but that I was borned and raised in Sweden. “Congratulations!” he said. “Then you are a little portuguese. Welcome to your new capital city”.
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