You could say me and Lisbon go way back. Well, not that "way", but given that the past three years have felt like a lifetime, it works. Before traveling here, Lisbon always held this magic allure. It just sounds nice, doesn't it?
Lisboa.
Talk about a good name. Anyway, pre-pandemic, I always found reasons not to go here. Too expensive. And I could typically find my favorite artists in cheaper cities. But then, Covid struck, and I pretty much spent the first six months of that as a complete hermit and self-confessed workaholic. I made more dough than I ever had before, which isn't to say I got rich, rather that there was zero to spend on, during the pandemic.
So when restrictions loosened up a bit during the summer of 2020, I figured I better hit the road, or blow my brains out, being cooped up inside.
Not to spoil it, but I hit the road, and Lisbon just... happened. I'm glad it did, because at the time, it was a lifesaver. This March, I was lucky enough to return to Lisbon, this time with my family, for a magical week. So I thought I'd share a couple of favorite places.
Convento da Ordem do Carmo
One thing I've always said about organized religion, in particular the Catholic Church, is they sure know how to build a pretty building. Seriously. From the Sagrada Familia to the Duomo of Milano, some of the most stupendous buildings in the world are places of worship. The Carmo Convent, located right in the heart of Lisbon, has got to be one of my favorite "pretty churchy places".
Because it's broken.
Severely impacted by the many earthquakes to rock the city of Lisbon, the Carmo Convent is no longer, in the truest sense, a convent, but a ruin site.
And I don't know, maybe I just turn up at all the wrong times, but it's always fairly free of tourists. Or maybe they pale under the immensity of the sky, who knows? Carmo is the sort of convent I'd frequent, maybe, were I so inclined, because it's more religious than any other "religious" place I've been to in this life.
It lets visitors look up at the sky, and what greater example of the wonder that is life, and this world, than being able to look up at the cosmos and the clouds?
It also houses quite an impressive small museum, with everything from archeological findings, to mummies, to rare books.
Street Art Hunting
You could probably find a myriad of reasons to spend your entire visit to the Portuguese capital wandering the streets. The beautiful, colorful architecture, the old-timey cobbles, the hidden-gem stores. Or perhaps, the street art. Coming as I do from a city where 85% of "street art" is actually just 14-year-olds spray-painting dopey nicknames on the wall, finding a place like Lisbon is like stepping into another world.
Here, every wall is a character, a story. Takes you to another place and time, and plays on collective imagination. No wonder the artistic culture is so rich in Lisbon, when these people are surrounded at every step by art.
While there, I shared the image above to my Instagram, with the caption "Fleeting figures. Us, not them.". And really, it's all I can say. Who knows how long these images will outlive us?
Jose Saramago Foundation
Jose Saramago is one of the many writers I have my mother to thank for. So really, the first time I went to the Jose Saramago Museum (aka Casa dos Bicos) in the Santa Maria Maior parish, I did so more for my mom than myself. I don't know if I'd ever even read something by him (For shame, I know).
Well, now I have. But this isn't really about that. I'd encourage anyone to visit this, as it's one of the most unusual buildings in Lisbon. Even if you've never read it, it doesn't matter. One floor is a beautiful display dedicated to Saramago's life and works, chronicling his long career from the first book to the Nobel Prize. Quite an impressive span.
It's a blend between light and darkness. The display itself is bathed in light, with white walls, dressed in the colors of book covers from all over the world. My brother and I played around seeing how many Romanian translations we could spot. Quite a few.
Then, there's the darkness, the hidden eye into a replica of Saramago's actual office, which was very elegant and intimate. There's also a bookstore, gift shop, and best of all (I thought) a staircase decorated in quotes by the great man.
It is a place of light, and only costs something absurd like $3 to go in. So go, even if you're never gonna read him. You'll be glad you did.
I'm gonna sit on that dock of the bay...
Two thousand miles, I roam
Just to make this dock my home
Now I'm just gon' sit, at the dock of the bay
Watchin' the tide roll away, ooh yeah
Sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time
For me, there was nothing like the feeling of complete freedom, sitting by the river, at Terreiro de Paco, a takeout coffee cup in my hand, watching the waves and listening to this gem. There's a sensation of living by the water. It's a very unique, special feeling. I've written about it before, but I don't think you ever really capture it. Unless you're a water person. Unless you live by the water. And Lisbon's where I first discovered that feeling, and always will be.
...
There's a lotta darkness in this world, so you have to figure out how, and create for yourself these pockets of light, which allow you to breathe. I don't mean to be dramatic, but I don't see how you survive this life, otherwise. For me, travel is that.
I also wanted to thank 
