The Lonely Stretch in Europe, and How People Got Through It

The lonely stretch does not seem to mean a person chose the wrong place.

By Neil Solomon · 3 min read

Picture a couple named Margaret and Tom. They have been in their new home for four months. The sun is out, the food is good and the apartment is lovely. On a Wednesday afternoon, Margaret realizes she has not had a real conversation with anyone but Tom since Sunday. And Tom has been out.

She does not say anything. She makes tea. Then she cries a little, which surprises her.

I have read many accounts of this, and what strikes me is how alike they are. The place changes. The feeling does not.

What people describe

Portugal. The most voices come from here. One person cried alone, then accepted help, and says she felt grateful. Another is candid about loneliness, language and the cheek kisses that do not make you a friend. A retired single person is afraid of loneliness before arriving, and hopeful. Another says that two years in, the calm surface hides a struggle.

France. Days go by without a real conversation. The writer says it plainly.

Italy. One person sits alone at the language course.

Ireland. A retiree says nobody spoke to her all week. Another account worries about the pubs: a husband goes out, his wife is home alone.

Luxembourg. Two sides. One person is busy, yet lonely. Another is alone while his wife looks after her mother.

Denmark. Newcomers describe lonely days, especially looking for company among other women.

Croatia. Five years in, a writer calls it home, and still feels alone some days.

How I read this

A few patterns stand out.

The lonely stretch does not seem to mean a person chose the wrong place. In the Croatia story, five years do not remove it. It comes and goes, even when a person is at home.

Busy is not the same as connected. The Luxembourg account makes that point well. A full calendar can sit on top of an empty week.

One partner's day is often different from the other's. In Ireland and Luxembourg, one spouse has a role outside the home and the other waits. If that is you, I think it helps to name it before it grows.

What seems to help is simple and a little uncomfortable. Accepting help, as the person in Portugal did. Saying yes to the next invitation, even a small one. Going back to the same class, café or market stall until someone remembers your name. Learning the language, which many describe as the door.

Here is how that Wednesday might end.

"I cried today," Margaret says.

"Why?"

"Nobody called. Nobody asked me anything."

Tom puts his keys down. "Then tomorrow we go to that class together."

"Together?"

"For one week. Then you decide."