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| Portugal’s capital is a easy-going city with a dramatic location. And AMAR GROVER discovered it has a charm all of its own: from flea markets to royal palaces, from trams to its Moorish districts. I was riding one of Lisbon’s charming trams that heave over hills and swing wildly around corners. Standing at the back, it became increasingly crowded until the doors hissed open. A crowd piled off and, as the tram pulled away, a young chap leapt out, giving everyone an emphatic two-finger salute. A few mutterings later, myself and others realised we had been pickpocketed. I blame myself and, chuckling at the thief’s cheek, Lisbon is still one of my favourite European cities. First there is the city’s location; a dramatic clutter across hills that ripple to the broad River Tagus. The Atlantic is but a few kilometres away and the air always seems fresh. Second, Lisbon is an easy-going place; although everyone saunters along they still find time for lunchtime siesta. We climbed to Castelo de São Jorge, which dominates one of two hills in Lisbon. From turret to tower along its wide ramparts there are great views over a sea of tiled roofs to a startlingly massive statue of Christ. Following a devastating earthquake in 1755, most of Lisbon’s central area was rebuilt and these elegant, older parts stand out clearly from newer suburbs that stretch into the distance. Huddled against the castle walls and tumbling down the hillside is Alfama,Lisbon’s oldest district. Like a North African souk, its Moorish origins are betrayed by closely packed houses and narrow winding lanes overhung with laundry. Alfama is a wonderful place to wander. We strode up and down steep steps infused with the haunting, melancholic sounds of fado — that most Portuguese of music — from dim windows. It’s compact enough to get comfortably lost and there is always a café to grab a coffee or a beer. Passing through on a Saturday, we caught the Feira da Ladra in full swing. This flea market has an interesting mix of ethnic gear, clothes, army surplus and junk — it’s the place to flog that smashed-up camera, the broken lightshade, granny’s shoes or junior-school artwork. The cynical browsers are openly contemptuous of the hopeless goods and there is a lot of banter, huffing, puffing and shoulder-shrugging until a bargain is secured. Travellers can easily spend hours ambling around Alfama before taking a 10-minute tram ride past a Romanesque cathedral to the Baixa, a central grid of shopping streets, many of which remain organised by craft or trade. |
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