There are places near Spain that I am to this day ashamed
that I haven’t yet visited. Italy, Austria, the South of France, to name but a
few. Another place was Portugal. This country in particular left me with no
excuse. It is stuck on the side of Spain and its cities are no further away
than many in Spain itself. So, one bank holiday, and with a Scottish friend in
tow, I offed to the capital of Lisbon.
At the risk of presenting a twee ‘oooh, this is what I did
on my holiday’ look at Lisbon, I will instead present the city to the reader
via its varied barrios as I saw them.
Baixa
Essentially the ‘centre’, Baixa is the area where you find
the principal squares, the tourists and their symbiotic touts, the cleanest
streets, the drug-dealers, the tat-sellers, and the city’s grandest buildings.
The best place to start is the large open space of the Praça do Comercio: a
square, centred with a statue of King Jose I on a horse and hugged by the
striking mustard-yellow apartments. It looks out onto the water and across the
Tejo’s estuary to the banks on the other side. Despite the few tourists and odd
guitarist hoping for some cents it is a truly peaceful place. The vast waters
have not yet become sea so they lap at your feet quite gently.
North from this place handsome parallel streets – all
feeling like Bath had been made Mediterranean – shoot up like bamboo shoots and
hit a variety of squares. The first, smallest, and oddest, was Praça Figueira,
housing another statue – this time King John I on a horse – and, oddly for a
warm March, an ice-rink. Seagulls cooed and squawked and the Castelo São Jorge
– St. George Castle – glowed amber in the failing light up on its hill. The
second, and finest, square was the Praça Rossio, lined by pretty cafés, headed
by the national theatre and this time housing a column and a fountain. The
third, and least spectacular, was the Praça dos Restauradores. Wider and more
open, this square was only notably for its London Ritzy style, pastel-coloured
hotels and modernist style cinema.
Baixa was a funny old district. It combined very Portuguese
Portugal with utter tourist trappy tourism. On the positive hand you had the
opportunity to eat some of the finest fish – in particular bacalhau
(cod) and my favourite bacalhau com natas (creamy cod) – and sample
local liquors like Ginjinja (a fortified sour cherry wine) from tiny
little bars that only serve that particular drink. On the other hand if you’re
not careful at restaurants waiters may leave little ‘tapas’ on the table at the
start of your meal so that the visitors munch away thinking they’re free, only
to be slammed with a fortified bill at the end. Similarly we were often
badgered by tat-sellers and quite the politest drug-dealers.
‘You guys want hash or coco?’
‘No thanks.’
‘OK guys, no worries, have a good night.’
Bizarre.
Alfama
This is the magical postcard area of Lisbon that causes the
visitor to ooh and ahh at the views. It’s a jumble of streets and hills and
trams and architecture styles and churches and accordion views – one minute
claustrophobic, the next minute utterly wide-reaching to sea and sky. This is
the old zone and is built up around a hill on which sits the castle. Lisbon’s
city planners cleverly created various miradouros, viewpoints, that open
the city and allow you to contemplate how it sits. The lay of the land. Like
some white tortoise with a terracotta shell, the Alfama is full with flats,
churches and monasteries and photographers.
As with all these places there exists the large, gleaming,
double-edged sword. On the one hand tourists naturally veer towards somewhere
worth snapping, worth seeing, somewhere that the book says you should see. On
the other hand however, they also tend to veer towards whatever star of the
show may be present. In the Alfama this was the castle. It’s a tasty entry fee
of €7.50 so we desisted. The advantage of having a star of the show means that
the tourists are sucked away from the other, less ‘things-to-see’ streets. The
atmosphere in the Alfama is warm and cosy; little bars spilling out into
cobbled streets, sun dripping into the lanes and birds in cages tweeting
merrily as old ladies lean out of their stable-style front doors.
Barrio Alto/Chiado
This area, alto because it straddles the hill
opposite the one topped with the castle is a mess of slightly scruffier streets
bulging with more bohemian shops and little restaurants and bars. It was
likened to Madrid’s La Latina tapas district, bursting with life. We hit
the area at around nine o’clock and it was, for a city with a population that
varies between 540,000 and 3 million depending on how you count it, dead. It
was quiet and not how it was publicized. Perhaps we went too late.
During the day Barrio Alto is similar in texture to the
Alfama, but a little better kept. All throughout streets dip over the edge and
offer views to the city. Always views. Little parks and little cafes. Not much
traffic. Lisbon is very quiet.
Chiado is the way an old quarter like Barrio Alto evolves
into a smarter more modern one like Baixa. It’s seamless and attractive. One
interesting part of Chiado is the Elevador de Santa Justa, a towering
neo-Gothic lift in the middle of an unassuming street that stands 45m high and
has stood for one hundred and ten years. The views – again with the views – are
glorious. This was one of many lifts that were part of a plan by the Lisbon
council to improve turn of the century Lisbonians’ movement around the city.
Then the trams came. Trams are snazzier. It was a no-brainer.
Belem
The final area, ‘the second day area’, is the old village of
Belem – long since absorbed into the city limits but still retaining a
disconnected feel. We walked there, crisping and bubbling in the beautiful
heat, but a tram can be taken too. The path follows the water west towards
where it swims with salt and becomes sea. There are essentially four things to
see. The first is the quite breathtaking bridge – the Ponte 25 de Abril – that
is essentially the twin of the Golden Gate Bridge. Indeed, the same company
built it. At 2.2km in length – the 21st largest suspension bridge in
the world – it launches over the water to the southern banks where a statue of
Christ the Redeemer stands, arms outstretched. Under it nestles an area of
lovely restaurants by a glittering marina. Good place to stop for a while.
The second, third and fourth items are collected together on
the far tip of the land. The Padrao dos Descobrimentos is a hefty 52m high,
blockish statue at who’s base can be found 33 larger-than-life sized characters
from the annuls of the great period of Portuguese imperial Age of Discovery
including everyone’s favourite, Vasco de Gama.
The third is one of the more spectacular religious behemoths
that I’ve ever seen: the Monasterio dos Jeronimos. An absurd building, long and
floridly built in the hard to find Manueline style, the UNESCO monument is
quite lovely. Its cousin is the Torre de Belem – the fourth item on the menu –
that is plonked at the furthest point a tourist would go. Another 16th
century Manueline style building, it was useful for two reasons. 1. To see off
the ships on their expeditions to discover things for the Empire and 2. To
protect Lisbon militarily at its entrance. It is frilly and grey and fortified
and quite, apologies for the lame word, cool.
The sun set shimmering and shining over the Atlantic and
Lisbon was put to bed. Visit it, you buggers, visit it.