In spring 1941, the author who was born in Germany and had been living in Paris for fifteen years, succeeded to get a transit visa through Spain, where life seemed to be even more hopeless than in France. In Lisbon, though disappointed through the refusal of Brazil to accept any more Jews in spite of their visas and ticktes payed for, the author had a wonderful time getting easy jobs and living with friendly people in beautiful roundings. Apart from one more unpleasant experience lasting for a number of hours only, the author experienced the same good luck in Algier – then the seat of the French Government - where she met her future husband.