Lisbon in my Heart

Pint in hand, I found a corner at the edge of the quaint bar with a good vantage point. People were getting in and out, but mostly in. A lady wearing a black dress and a dark shawl across her shoulder was taking center stage. She had a red flower in her hair which I thought gave a nice contrast to the black. Her companion was holding a Portuguese guitar and getting situated on the bench next to her. He strummed the beautiful instrument and the crowd went hush in anticipation. The lady in black started singing and all eyes and ears were on her. Her voice was high pitched but warm. Although I couldn’t understand the words, she was expressive. I sensed sorrow in her manner and quaver in her tone. The inexperienced ear may be confused whether this was a funeral or a bar performance. She was a “fadista”, and today I landed in Lisbon.

Fado, Portugal’s national music treasure, is profoundly melancholic and poetic in nature. It originated in Lisbon in the early nineteenth century and is most commonly staged in cafes and bars. It often describes the harsh realities of everyday life and the feeling of loss or longing at sea. To me Lisbon is Fado. One can feel it admiring the historic buildings while walking the old cobblestoned neighborhoods, or catching the sunset on top one of its hills, imagining the departing sailors pushing their ships to sea in pursuit of riches beyond the Atlantic. Being the hopeless romantic that I am, Lisbon felt like home.

After I had nourished my soul with Fado and hydrated my body with beer, it was time to satisfy my growling stomach. I hadn’t had any real food since I arrived in Lisbon a few hours earlier. What I needed at this hour of the night was marinated slices of pork simmered in white wine sauce, garlic and paprika served on a soft roll with piri-piri sauce and a dash of mustard. The United States has burger, Italy has pizza, and Portugal has bifana. The bifana is best enjoyed counter-side with full view of the gridle and an arm reach to the mustard bottle and piri-piri sauce. Cheap, juicy, and sinfully delicious. I headed to O Trevo where I heard they served them best; boy did I hear correctly. I ordered a bifana with a glass of Super Bock. Twenty minutes later, I was on my third bifana and second Super Bock. I was as happy as one can be. Buenas noches to all, and to all a good night.

The next day was a full day. I left my hostel around 10am and took a walk down Avenida da Liberdade for some window shopping as I made my way to café a Brasileira. Once there, I ordered a café latè and a piece of Pastel de Nata, the famous Portuguese egg custard tart dusted with cinnamon. I enjoyed sitting at the historic café so much that I got a second order while planning my day. After coffee, I took the iconic tram 28 and headed to Bairro da Graça, or so I thought. Fifteen minutes into the joy ride, I realized that I was heading in the wrong direction. No harm done, I hopped off and hopped onto the next tram heading into Bairro da Graça. One of Lisbon’s oldest neighborhoods, Graça sits on top of Lisbon’s highest hill and boasts sweeping views of the Tagus river and the countless red roofs below. If you had couple of ours to spend in Lisbon, this is where you want to be.

I walked around the old neighborhood for a bit and took in the views from the Lago da Graça overlook. It was a beautiful fall day and the sun was out, so I decided to walk down the hill to explore the Alfama Barrio, where fado all started. As I began my decent, I came across the castle of Saint Jorge which dates back to the 8thcentury. If I like anything more than castles, it’s castles with wine offerings. I stepped back into history and enjoyed a walk around the historic structure. I ended up at the edge of the courtyard admiring the spectacular view. I grabbed a glass of wine from the wine stand – yes, wine stand on the castle grounds – and sat down at the edge thinking how am I going to drag myself out of here.

I left the castle and made my way down the hill into the heart of Alfama. This barrio is not for the faint of heart. The oldest neighborhood in Lisbon is nestled on the side of a hill and paints a picturesque labyrinth of cobbled alleyways, historic houses, and quaint plazas. How old one might ask? Sé de Lisboa, or the Cathedral of Lisbon, stood the test of time in this glorious neighborhood since the 12th century. In the evening, one could hear fado reverberate from the nearby restaurants. Only by being in Alfama one can truly understand the true meaning of fado. If the ubiquitous historic structures stacked upon one another can speak, they’d tell a thousand stories of hardship, poverty, and longing. Your mind needs not to wander far to picture a woman looking out from her balcony waving her husband goodbye as he sails down the Tagus, wondering if she’ll every see him again. Right there and then, I learned that Alfama is truly the heart of Lisbon.

The sun was setting, and all this emotional strain made me extra hungry. However, in Portugal, just like most of Europe, Lunch is served 12-2:30pm and Dinner after 8pm. It was 6pm and I needed to kill some time. A drink perhaps? Once at the bottom of the hill, I set off in pursuit of a Portuguese staple. Ginjinha, a liqueur made from Ginja cherries soaked in brandy and served as a shot. If there’s a place where one must try his first ginginha, it must be at A Ginginha. A tiny bar named after the drink itself serving the sweet libation since 1840. A counter, an older gentleman, and countless ginginha bottles; that’s all the bar had to offer. With or without a cherry are the only options on the menu. I took mine without and stepped outside to enjoy my shot with other fellow “time-killers”. At 1€ each, it was easy to lose track of how many I consumed. The sweetness and smoothness of the drink didn’t help either. After five or six shots I called it quits; it was time for food.

Being on the water, Lisbon is known for its seafood. Nowhere else in the city can you enjoy the sea’s bounties more than Cervejaria Ramiro. A Lisbon institution for more than 60 years, Ramiro is a family run restaurant known for serving the freshest and best seafood around. I got there a bit early and was lucky enough to have a table for one before the dinner rush started. The m

enu was a bit overwhelming, so I asked my waiter for some help. Not to worry he said. To start with, he brought me a cold glass of Sagres and a basket of warm bread. A few minutes later, he showed up with a few house favorites: Monstrous grilled tiger shrimp in spicy olive oil, clams in garlic sauce, a sizzling skillet of garlic shrimp, and crab roe pudding served in its crab shell. You think this sounds good? You have no idea. As if things could get any better, or more interesting, to round things up my waiter brought me a traditional Portuguese dessert; Prego (steak sandwich). Forget the concept of dessert for a minute and focus on the details. The bread’s crusty shell was perfectly baked to hold up anything that came its way, while the soft fluffy crumb gently hugged all the ingredients stuffed inside. The thinly sliced steaks perfectly seared on each side; however tender and ever so slightly pink in the middle. A good portion of lightly toasted garlic and onions mixed into the beef, and the juicy fat drippings melted into the bun like snow on a warm February day, releasing all that flavor into liquid form. A spread of mustard brought the entire concoction to a crusty, juicy, flavorful, tangy perfection. Dessert, as I knew it, was shattered. One thing remained to do that evening. Go back to my hotel and cry myself to sleep for 27 wasted years never having tried a Prego.

Christopher Columbus stopped at this place on his way back to Europe after discovering the new World. Bar

tolomeu Dias took to sea from this point to round the Cape of Good Hope. This is where Vasco da Gama embarked on his voyage to discover a new sea route to India. It was from here, from Belem, that the age of discovery flourished in the 15th and 16th centuries and shaped the world as we know it today. No trip to Lisbon is complete without doing some self-discovery by visiting the 16th century Tower of Belem and the Monument of Discoveries. The next morning, I took a long walk to Belem to immerse myself in the monumental events that took place here a few centuries ago. Come to think of it, I myself am a distant byproduct of those historic events. If it hadn’t been for these discoveries, I may have never moved to the United States and my life, if it were to exist, would have never taken the same path that led me here today. It was truly awe-inspiring to stand there at the shore of the Tagus and marvel at those monuments. I let my mind flow freely with the river imagining Christopher Columbus as he arrived to shore, but my imagination was suddenly cut short by the glorious smells of baked goodies. These goodies came in the form of Pasteis de Nata from the adjacent Confeitaria Nacional. I despise waiting in lines, but my nose and stomach got the best of me. I waited for 20 minutes so I could indulge on what was arguably the best Pastel de Nata in the world.

I took a cab back into the old town to Pink Street; where sailors and prostitutes used to meet back in the olden days. In 2011, the area got a facelift and the street was painted pink. Today, Pink Street is known for its bars, restaurants, and nightlife. It was too early in the day for any clubbing, but I headed there to check out a fishing store known for its canned seafood. Want to buy some bait and tackle? Then why not stay for some wine and tinned seafood. No bait or tackle for me, but I’ll have the food. I sat on a table outside with a perfect vantage point of the street. I ordered a carafe of white wine, anchovies with tomato sauce and peppers, tuna in olive oil, and muscles with garlic served with a basket of fresh bread. All of this was for the whopping price of 15 Euros. The simplest joys of life: wine, canned food, and people-watching on pink streets.

On my third and last day in Portugal, I decided to get out of Lisbon. I met up with a childhood friend, Faris, who moved to Portugal a few years back. He picked me up from the hotel in the morning and we headed to Sintra, a charming town on the outskirts of Lisbon known for its whimsical palaces, extravagant villas, and castle ruins. But first, we headed West, as West as one can go in continental Europe. We took a beautiful costal ride into Cape Roca, the westernmost point of continental Europe. I stood there on the edge of the cliff watching the mi

ghty Atlantic crash its waves on the rocks below. I squinted my eyes and I could see the Statue of Liberty waiving at me, or so I thought. I waved back anyway and screamed hello in case she couldn’t see me, but no one answered. The wind was picking up, so we also picked up our steps and headed back to the car in pursuit of fairytale castles. One could spend a whole a day, or week, exploring Sintra and its magnificent hillside buildings and beautiful natural scenery, but given the time constraint, we chose to visit the Palacio Nacional del Pena. Perched up high on the hills of Serra de Sintra is one of Europe’s finest palaces. Upon seeing this fairytale structure with its vividly colored exterior and beautiful facade, I thought that If I ever decide to leave my modest life behind to live in a castle, this would be it. Back on earth, we toured the castle and took in the gorgeous views from the top. I learned that this was where Portuguese nobility retreated to during the hot summer days. My little heart couldn’t take it for much longer, so I snapped a few pictures and hurried Faris back to the car. When we reached the main gate, I couldn’t help but think of the Terminator for some reason. I turned around, took one last look and thought, I’ll be back.

After a busy afternoon, we headed to my friend’s apartment in nearby Cascais where we met with his wife and watched the most beautiful sunset. For dinner, Faris took me to Baia do Peixe for a wonderful all-you-can-eat seafood restaurant overlooking the Atlantic (yes, more seafood!). Don’t be fooled by the all-you-can-eat, this was not your average seafood. To start with, wine. I was introduced to vino verde, or green wine; a Portuguese wine that originated in the North. Though the wine possessed a slightly greenish hue, the name translates to young wine because the grapes are released without being aged. It was light and refreshing; which tasted wonderful with seafood. For dinner, we ordered a pre fixe all-you-can-eat menu that consisted of 5

seafood courses with soup and salad. I devoured the grilled garlic prawns and slurped my way through the seafood meddle soup by the time the waiter brought the baked turbot filet with coriander and olive oil. I thought I was starting to feel a little full, but I paid my stomach no attention. I thoroughly enjoyed the black bream baked in salt, but I had to push myself through the roasted octopus, not for lack of flavor - for there was plenty - but due to the shortcoming of my stomach. Dessert had to wait for another day. As I sat there on that dinner table enjoying my meal and reminiscing childhood memories with my friend, I looked out to the ocean and a feeling of discontent washed over me for a moment. Knowing that I was leaving tomorrow, I wondered, am I beginning to suffer from PPS (Post Portugal Stress)? She does that to you, Portugal. Once she grabs a hold of you, she will sink her claws into you, and if you are lucky enough, you may never leave. To her I write:

I came here to thee with no expectation

Just a backpa

ck and a heart full of determination

But the day I stepped my foot on here

Oh Lisboa, it was a day filled with cheer

I love your ginja, I love your barrios

give me your bifanas and I’ll never say adios

Your history is rich and your people are cool

He who does not like thee, is a plain old fool

Your sea is bountiful and your mountains are breezy

You make falling in love with you all too easy

I am signing fado, I am longing for you

I miss you so much, have you any clue?