Walk of the Town

Huddled in a bay off the Atlantic with its own ruddy-colored suspension bridge and cardiovascular-testing topography, Lisbon feels, to a San Francisco native, a bit like going home. Only with significantly better weather.

A city of seven hills (I swear it felt like more), paved in walkways of ivory-colored limestone and inky-black basalt cobblestones, Lisbon cries out for comfortable shoes. For the ladies, this doesn’t just mean ballet flats or gladiator sandals (on one rare, rainy afternoon I felt like I was trying out for the 2012 speed-skating team). Bring gummy-soled, cushy sneakers — something you might see in Rick Steves’ suitcase. This is a city to be explored en plain air thanks to pitch-perfect weather, so better to be sure-footed than well-heeled.

Once suited up, it’s time to head out. You could go west, toward the historic district of Belém with its residential streets flanked by grandly tiled apartment buildings (the Presidential Palace is located here). Do your feet the favor and take tram 15 or one of the many buses to get here (the walk along the busy Avenue 24 de Julho is unforgiving in the noonday sun, as my boyfriend and I found out the hard way) and reward yourself with one of the city’s famed confections from the jam-packed 174-year-old Pastéis de Belém (Rua de Belem, 84 84). The ever-popular pastel de nata is a bite-sized bit of heaven: silky custard fresh from the oven, warm and cinnamony with a flakey crust. Wait in the long queue and preemptively buy a double serving; they are pretty much engineered for late-night snacking.

On your next outing, head east. Squeeze yourself onto the storied tram 28 (hint: catch it before it hits the bustling Baixa to grab a seat) up into the meandering alleyways of Lisbon’s oldest neighborhood, the Alfama. Chock full of fado bars and bougainvillea-strewn terraced vistas, this is how you will remember Lisbon. At the peak is the Castle of São Jorge, a batch of medieval buildings and gardens best visited at dusk for its panoramic view of the sprawling city and Tagus River with its Golden Gate-doppelganger, the 25 de Abril Bridge. On a Saturday afternoon we poked around the neighborhood’s flea-market, brimming with junky bric-a-brac, then enjoyed a late lunch at Arco do Castelo (Rua Chao Feira 25). Served by a grinning Jack Nicholson-look alike host amongst dark, wood-paneled walls piled high with wine bottles, you’d think you’d walked into a Florentine bistro. When the Goan fish curry (with Atlantic cod, or bacalhau, of course) and charcoal-crispy naan bread arrive, your geographical compass most certainly will be spinning. Relax, this is Lisbon: a cultural crossroads with delicious results.

Shop your way back to the city center through the Castelo’s neighboring district, Mouraria, first stopping at A Loja (Largo dos Trigueiros, 16B), opened by a Parisian transplant named Gabrielle. Curated with candy-colored straw beach bags, vintage clothes, and a collection of hand-stitched, heart-shaped pillows crafted by a neighbor down the block, you’ll leave wanting to move to Lisbon and open a little shop of your own. Next, duck into A Barbacã (Calçada Nova de São Francisco 1), a cavernous 16th century mezzanine floor in the Chiado district crammed with antiques from 1930s medical posters to a vintage lunar “globe” detailing the craters of the moon. Finally, make room in your suitcase for a hand-painted serving dish from Fábrica Sant’Anna (Rua do Alecrim 95), one of the city’s oldest ceramics makers, who have been crafting azulejos, Lisbon’s signature vividly hued tiles, since 1741. Don’t worry, you will not be the first to feel obsessively compelled to redo your bathroom back home in emerald-green tile. The city’s enchanting architecture has that effect.

Next, cool your heels back at the hotel; the leafy, literary-heavy haven of As Janelas Verdes makes a good choice to relax (or write your next novel). With its old-world feel and terraced picture-window library, it’s the perfect perch to take in a cocktail from the honor bar and watch the tugboats zigzag across the river.

Properly revived, it’s time to finally wear those platforms you couldn’t resist packing: Saturday night out in the graffiti-blitzed Barrio Alto. With its grid of narrow, mostly pedestrianized streets, the scene proved to be as well attended as a New Year’s Eve party with young people, shoulder-to-shoulder, drinking caipiroskas (a caipirinha made with vodka) in plastic cups sold from bars with mostly Katy Perry on the jukebox.

If you have more than three days to spare (I highly recommend that you do), take to Lisbon’s efficient metro and venture even further afield. Highlights of our trip included the fairy-tale-worthy Pena Palace, a mishmash of Moorish and Romantic-period architecture high atop the eucalyptus-covered hills of Sintra (see my previous note on comfortable footwear). Or pop out to the impressive and somewhat bewildering Parque das Nações, a rambling 800-acre complex of glassy condos, shopping malls and a series of modern pavilions (it was built for the 1998 World’s Expo). Hitch a ride on one of the Tomorrowland-style gondolas and wave to the aquarium’s fish far below, basking in a sheltered bay of water. Take in the view, capped by a sky that seems permanently paused on blue, and relish the feeling of floating through air; it is Lisbon, after all, and soon you will be back on your feet.