Lisbon: My Seven Hills of Soul

We sailed under the 25 de Abril Bridge at sunrise and the city appeared like a terracotta dream stacked above the Tagus River. Tram 28E was waiting at the terminal gates – we jumped on the first wooden car of the day and rattled through impossibly narrow Alfama streets while old ladies hung laundry between buildings. Belém was next – the Jerónimos Monastery glowing honey-gold, the smell of cinnamon and custard drifting from Pastéis de Belém where we devoured six pastel de nata standing at the counter like locals.

In the afternoon we went to LX Factory – abandoned warehouses turned into street art, bookshops in old printing presses, and the best ginjinha cherry liqueur shots served in chocolate cups. We watched sunset from Miradouro da Senhora do Monte with the whole city at our feet, castle lit up, someone playing fado guitar nearby. The pros: Lisbon feels like a warm hug from a beautiful stranger who speaks perfect melancholy. The cons: those seven hills are no joke, but every climb earns you another perfect view.