Lisbon on foot

Storyline: Portugal by trains

Time for exploration of the city known for its renaissance navigators and explorers. We walked everywhere, steep hills and miradouros (viewpoints/lookouts). Touristy and local neighbourhoods which encompass the old town boundaries. Around the city centre that is.

Lisbon is an eccentric, modern yet stuck in the 19^th century city, built in a succession of terraces up the steep slopes of the hills rising from the banks of River Tagus (Rio Tajo).

A city of narrow and steep alleys, stairs, narrow houses perched one over the other, a city of balconies, vistas, and miradouros.

And a city rich in history.

It is said that a city was born where River Tagus meets the Atlantic, 400 years before Rome. A city that would later change the world (Vasco da Gama, Ferdinand Magellan and more).

It is also believed “the city of 7 hills” connotation arose during centuries of Roman presence when a resemblance with Rome was seen. But the historians find the first mention of “city of seven mounts” was by Frey Nicolao d’Oliveira in the 17^th century:

“Now this city occupies the length from Belém until São Bento de Enxobregas, that are nearly two leagues, continuing always houses and farms, being the middle of it, and what properly we call City situated on seven very high mounts, and very distant from each other, and occupies all, not only their tops, but all its bottoms, and roots, and valleys, as it is clearly seen by who comes from the sea, that from land there is no place from where might be seen as much as a third of it”

That is a century before the infamous Great Lisbon earthquake in 1755 that would shape the landscape and topography of nowadays Lisbon.

The only area that was spared by the earthquake was Alfama, the oldest neighbourhood in Lisbon, built by the Moors at 11^th century. Thus, the name; al-hamma in Arabic referring to hot baths reminds me of “hammam” during our trip to Morocco 3 years prior. During that trip we also learned that the houses were uniform from outside, because their religion doesn’t allow for wealth be displayed. What one does inside is not for view. Outside though they all look equal. After the Moors were driven out, the area was inhabited by the fishermen and the poor.

Alfama is where we chose to stay. We walked up and down the maze of stairs and across small squares leading to steep alleys, all lined by almost uniformly-built houses, painted in somewhat dull colours of yellow, pink, gray and gray-blue and often with green doors.

It definitely reminds one the 19^th century gloom of the area (I’m younger than Diana, so will rely here on her superior knowledge and memories – A), although it is now spruced up with many houses converted to short term rentals. I already touched on our accommodation as an example of what one can find behind theses door. Will elaborate a bit more here, since this is typical for the entire area.

The houses you see on the photos are pressed between 2 streets scaling the hill. The green door circled in red is where we’d enter. The steep stairs immediately beyond the door lead to the first and second floors (ours). The apartment above us (the window circled in blue) was accessed from the alley behind. The slope won’t allow any other way. Each level has an apartment.

Or should I say; behind each window there is an apartment, often just as wide as the window and the little wall next to it (window circled in red), and as deep as the slope of the hill allows it.

Since we had tiny vent windows in the kitchen and bathroom at the rear of our unit, we wanted to see where they looked out. So, one day we walked up the stairs forking from our street to an alley that gives access to all upper-level apartments accessed from the rear of these row houses as we’d categorise them in North America.

Yep, this is it!

Zoomed out (the photo that is), the door next to the windows leads to the top-level apartment above us. And since we sometimes wondered what was this strange noise coming from above, as we walked we heard it again. It was the lady pulling the laundry wires. Mystery solved.

And off we went up the hill from this alley to explore more of the city’s local life. Graça is a local neighbourhood perched on the hill above Alfama and Castelo de São Jorge. It is said that it has been spared from excessive tourism and we could sit at a local café or restaurant (which we did) and socialize. Eh, if the locals spoke English, which is presumptuous, isn’t it. We just kept hiking up the street.

It was interesting to observe the local life however; the lady pinning her laundry over what looked to us an inaccessible ruin. Perhaps she had nowhere else to dry her laundry.

The lucky guy further up had his laundry lines around his windows on the ground floor.

We went up R. de Entre Muros do Mirante (literally meaning Between Walls of the Lookout) and decided to check the vistas from Miradouro da Senhora do Monte.

Splendid! The weather was picture perfect and we took a few photos. Then we headed down to the streets of Graça.

It happened to be Saturday and we started the day with a stroll through Feira da Ladra (flea market) near us before heading out this way.

Apparently, Feira da Ladra is a venue that Lisboans of all stripes enjoy. Upon arrival we were told by our host to just sit in a café around and enjoy as life goes by. Good luck with finding a café or any seating around when the market is on.

Reaching Graça we needed to find a place to eat. Restaurants, cafés and similar were all full of locals, enjoying the sun with their Saturday lunch.

Eventually we found a pizzeria on a small side street. It appeared it was owned by a loud, happy Italian family. The kids running around and laughing entertained us until all quietened down when they sat to enjoy their lunches. We shared a vegetarian pizza, no cheese. I liked the few pizzas we had in Portugal because they don’t load them heavily with cheese and tomato sauce and they are all with thin crusts.

After lunch we followed one of the trams down the hill of R. da Voz do Operário (workers’ voice),

swung by Igreja de São Vicente de Fora, popped our heads over at another lookout, chased a famous pasteis de nata place without success,

had drinks at the Alfama terrace with 2 less satisfying nata pastries, walked through new areas to Bairro Alto,

took a few shots (pictures, not alcohol – A) at the top of the funicular (Ascensor da Bica),

continued exploring Bairro Alto walking towards the water, and eventually reached the Farmacy museum with a lovely patio and restaurant.

Bairro Alto (higher or upper district), just west of Baixa (lower district) dates from the 16^th century. It is characterised by a maze of straight and narrow alleys and streets, leading down to Baixa.

Some are so steep that they terminate abruptly, giving way to stairs and cable cars.

It was time for dinner, wasn’t it? Our arrival at the Museu da Farmácia, perched on a hill above the funicular, was our jus-in-time for dinner place. Tables were scattered on a sloped lawn, but the seating was above the tables. All under certain angle.

We chose a table on the paved patio which was level; hard to believe that such exists in Lisbon.

The stewed octopus called my name and chips called Alex’s. I didn’t like my drink so Alex finished it (it was ginjinha, gin and tonic but was quite strong).