In Lisbon There is Always Another Hill

 Lisbon is the big city that doesn't feel big. Sophisticated and cosmopolitan, it manages to retain an old world charm with a friendly, laid-back attitude so typical of the southern European temperament.  Red-tiled roofs march up and down its seven hills like terracotta warriors. Wide sidewalks flank broad, tree-lined avenues, while thousands of narrow cobbled alleyways wind in and around distinct and characteristic neighbourhoods. Although it was busy I felt none of the stress of other large capital cities. 

While the city is completely walkable, Lisbon's hills and cobbles do mean challenging walking for the unprepared. You will find staircases with broad stone steps; escalators ingeniously located inside main buildings; a historic elevator built in the late 19th century by the French engineer Eiffel (of tower fame) and funny little funicular trams, all designed to move people up and down between the distinct districts. Be forewarned: you will inevitably have to climb hills, but if this is difficult you can always grab one of the hundreds of "tuk-tuks" that are everywhere. There is great competition for your business among the drivers; many are elaborately or quirkily decorated to attract your attention.

And of course there are the famous trams that circle, intersect and climb the city's neighbourhoods and which bring a unique flare to the usual public transportation options.

Our first full day was bright, sunny and hot (and it has continued all week), so of course most of our clothes are wrong for this trip! Undaunted we set out to meet our walking guide at 10 in one of the large central squares.

Our three-hour tour (with no Gilligan) took us to all of the more well-known neighbourhoods, with our well-informed and genial guide providing loads of historical and cultural information about each. We started the morning at an original shop selling the local Lisboan rocket fuel - ginjinha (pronounced jin-jin-ya) - an extremely potent sour cherry liqueur that is supposed to keep you healthy provided you drink five a day. With a three hour walk ahead of us in the heat, we all politely declined!

As we walked our guide told us the history of Portugal - its dominance in the Golden Age of exploration (at the mention of Vasco da Gama I had a sudden flashback to Miss Goudie and my Grade 5 social studies class). She told us all about the devastating earthquake that all but levelled the city in 1755; about the most common architectural style that arose from that devastation and then she told us about the dark times under the dictatorship and fascist regime of Antonio Salazar from 1939 to 1968. It was a time of economic deprivation, secret police and political repression that I am ashamed to say I knew nothing about. Nor about the revolution and restoration of democracy that followed.

We stopped for a sampling of the famous Portuguese custard tarts (pasteis de nata - translation "oh-my-god delicious!") and later we sampled "vinho verde" and codfish croquettes. In the Alfama district we heard about "fado", the melancholy music of the poor and disenfranchised - the Lisboan version of the Blues, I suppose.

Our tour wound up at the port of Lisbon, where there was a Carnival ship ("we're baaaaaack!") in port.

By now we had walked a full 3 hours in the sun and were as far from our hotel as could be, so we began to make our way back home. By this time my husband was tired and "hangry" so the most important thing was to find some lunch. By sheer luck we came upon a Spanish tapas restaurant on a staircase between two streets and collapsed on their patio. Two glasses of wine and some fabulous food later we began a long uphill trudge back to our hotel and a nap.

Oops. We slept too long and missed a "fado" performance we had tickets to see. After the events of the last two years I don't think we really missed much in terms of melancholia so instead we walked out and took the delightful and quirky funicular to the Barrio Alto district to find some supper. We had walked up enough hills today. This neighbourhood is full of small street cafes and bars whose tables spill out onto the narrow cobblestone streets. After wandering around checking out menus we settled on an inviting tapas place offering happy hour drinks and a chalkboard menu. Tables being very close together, we shared breathing space with a charming young couple on holiday from Spain. Ah, to be young again and in love! (note: my husband can strike up and carry on a conversation with anyone within a short range). The young guy said he worked in Spain "for the US government". Translation: he's a spy. But a lovely couple to spend a couple of hours with.

By now it was dark so we made our way home, mostly down hill, and settled to bed for our next day's adventures.

PS. The tourists are back and in a BIG way, especially Americans, but lots of Spanish, Italians and Brits. It is like Covid never happened. We did notice lots of mask-wearing, especially in our hotel and despite the lifting of the mandate in Portugal.