retiredmartin

March 2024. Lisbon.

You left us walking to the top of the stairs in Lisbon Old Town,

heading towards Alfama, the last of the “must see” Lisbon districts.

I wasn’t quite sure why it was must-see, having failed to do any research for the trip. I hadn’t researched our night out in Rochdale tonight, either.

“Oooh, that looks interesting” says Mrs RM, as we pass the obligatory “English pub”.

But, despite her lie of “I see a handpump“, I was convinced that not only would the Pride not be drinking well, it would be nonexistent, and made her press on ever upward to the Cathedral.

5 euro entrance, and not even a tower to climb, but worth it to hear Mrs RM get told off for taking photos of priestly clothes, and this wonderfully chaotic Adoration of the Magi.

And then the streets became ever more narrow and chaotic, and I finally found the image I most remember of Lisbon; the tram crawling the hill, forcing vehicles to make terrifying reversing manoeuvres.

That’s also the point you enter Rue do Benformoso, a cobbled mile of Chinese stores, curry caffs and calls to prayer.

It’s like being transported to Delhi, or Bradford, and it’s my highlight of the trip.

And then the Lisbon you expect reappears.

It’s 5pm. Our flight leaves at 10.

“Time for a last beer ?”.