Getting Lost in Lisbon's Azulejo Dreams

Lisbon wasn't supposed to happen. It was one of those spontaneous weekend trips that start with someone saying "the flights are €29" and end with you questioning why you don't live there permanently.

Lisbon is a city that demands to be walked. Every corner reveals another azulejo-covered building, every hill rewards you with another stunning viewpoint. This is where I learned that sometimes the best adventures happen when you deliberately get lost.

The Arrival That Stole My Heart

Landing in Lisbon felt like stepping into a pastel-colored dream. The ride from the airport into the city center was my first taste of Portuguese magic – terracotta rooftops stretching endlessly, the Tagus River glinting in the afternoon sun, and trams that looked like they'd rolled straight out of a vintage postcard.

My Airbnb was in Alfama, because apparently I like making my life difficult. Picture cobblestone streets so steep they should come with a warning label, and me, with my Aberdeen University backpack, huffing up what felt like Mount Everest just to find my front door.

But then – oh then – I opened the apartment window and looked out over the maze of red rooftops, laundry lines, and distant glimpses of the river, and I thought: "Okay Nikol, this was the right choice."

My First Portuguese Lesson: GPS is Useless

Let me tell you about the first time I tried to navigate Alfama with Google Maps. Spoiler alert: it didn't go well. The ancient streets of Lisbon weren't designed for modern technology – they were designed for wandering, for discovery, for the beautiful art of getting completely and utterly lost.

• What I planned: Quick walk to Fado Museum

• What actually happened: 3-hour architectural treasure hunt

• What I discovered: Hidden viewpoints, secret gardens, and the best bifana in Lisbon

• What I learned: Sometimes the destination is just an excuse for the journey

That tiny sandwich shop I stumbled into became my daily ritual. Bifana – pork, bread, and pure Portuguese soul – washed down with the strongest coffee known to humanity. The owner, Senhora Maria (she insisted I call her that), barely spoke English, but food is a universal language.

The Pastéis de Nata Pilgrimage

Okay, let's address the elephant in the room: pastéis de nata. I thought I understood custard tarts. I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.

My first bite happened at Pastéis de Belém – the original, the legendary, the place where these golden cups of heaven were invented in 1837. Picture me, sitting in this historic café, taking that first bite and having what I can only describe as a religious experience.

The creamy custard, the flaky pastry, that perfect caramelized top – I finally understood why people write poetry about food.

By day three, I had developed a systematic approach to pastéis de nata consumption:

1. Morning: Belém (the original, still the best)

2. Afternoon: Local pastelaria near my Alfama apartment

3. Evening: Wherever I happened to be when the craving hit

4. Midnight: Don't judge me

I probably ate my body weight in custard tarts during those four days, and I regret nothing.

Sunset at Miradouro da Graça

Here's where Lisbon completely captured my heart. Picture this: me, exhausted from a day of aggressive wandering, dragging myself up another impossible hill to Miradouro da Graça. I grab a Super Bock from the little kiosk, find a spot on the viewpoint, and watch as the sun sets over the Tagus River.

The golden light painted everything – the red rooftops, the river, the distant bridge – in shades I didn't know existed. Couples were sharing wine, old men were playing chess, and I was there, solo but not lonely, feeling completely content with my own company.

That sunset made me realize that some moments are perfect exactly as they are, without needing to be shared or documented or explained to anyone else.

The Sintra Day Trip That Broke My Brain

If Lisbon is beautiful, Sintra is pure fantasy. A 40-minute train ride from the city center, and suddenly you're in a fairy tale written by someone with excellent taste and unlimited budget.

Quinta da Regaleira was my first stop, and honestly? Nothing could have prepared me for the mystical wells, the underground tunnels, the gardens that looked like they were designed by elves with architecture degrees.

Standing at the bottom of that spiral well, looking up at the circle of sky above, I had one of those moments where you question reality. Was I really here? Was this really my life? Was I seriously a biomedical sciences student from Aberdeen exploring Portuguese palaces on a random Tuesday?

• 🏰 Pena Palace - Disney castle in real life

• 🌿 Quinta da Regaleira - Mystical wells and secret gardens

• 🏛️ Sintra National Palace - Medieval meets Moorish perfection

• 🍰 Travesseiros - Sintra's answer to pastéis de nata

The train ride back to Lisbon felt like returning from another dimension. I spent the entire journey staring out the window, trying to process what I'd just experienced.

The Fado Night That Made Me Cry

My last night in Lisbon, I did what every tourist does – I went to hear fado. But this wasn't touristy restaurant fado. This was Tasca Real do Fado in Alfama, where locals go to remember why Portuguese souls are so beautifully melancholic.

The singer was this elderly woman who looked like she'd lived through every heartbreak ever written. When she started singing, the entire room fell silent. I don't speak Portuguese, but I understood every word – the longing, the nostalgia, the saudade that defines the Portuguese spirit.

I cried. Actually cried. In a room full of strangers, listening to music in a language I don't speak, feeling emotions I couldn't name. That's the power of fado – it reaches parts of your soul you didn't know existed.

Cascais: Beach Day Therapy

My penultimate day, I took the train to Cascais because apparently I needed to add beach time to my already perfect Lisbon experience. The 30-minute coastal train ride was therapy in itself – watching the Portuguese countryside roll by, the ocean appearing and disappearing between hills.

Cascais is what happens when a Portuguese fishing village gets a luxury makeover but keeps its soul. I spent the afternoon on Banha Beach, alternating between reading, swimming, and eating grilled sardines from a beachside restaurant.

The contrast was perfect – from the ancient maze of Alfama to this relaxed coastal paradise, all accessible by public transport. Portugal, you overachiever.

The Tram 28 Adventure

No Lisbon story is complete without mentioning Tram 28. This rickety yellow antique somehow carries half of Lisbon's tourists and all of my respect. Watching the driver navigate impossible turns and steep hills with the casual confidence of someone who's been doing this for decades was entertainment in itself.

I rode it end to end just for the experience, getting off at random stops to explore neighborhoods I hadn't discovered yet. Graça, Estrela, Campo de Ourique – each area with its own personality, its own secrets.

My Lisbon Discoveries

• 🌅 Sunrise at Miradouro da Senhora do Monte - Worth the early alarm

• 🎵 Fado nights in Bairro Alto - Music that reaches your soul

• 🏰 Day trip to fairy-tale Sintra - Reality is optional here

• 🏖️ Beach day in coastal Cascais - Perfect Portuguese paradise

• 🚋 Tram 28 adventures - The best city tour you can take

• 🧀 Bifana at hole-in-the-wall places - Portuguese soul food

• 🏺 Azulejo hunting in every neighborhood - Art on every corner

• ☕ Coffee stronger than my Aberdeen caffeine tolerance - Respect

The Goodbye That Wasn't Really Goodbye

Standing in Portela Airport, waiting for my flight back to Aberdeen, I made a promise to myself: I would be back. Lisbon had gotten under my skin in the best way possible.

The city taught me that getting lost is sometimes the best way to find yourself. That perfect planning is overrated. That some of life's best moments happen when you're walking uphill, slightly out of breath, toward a viewpoint you're not even sure exists.

Sometimes the best travel memories come from simply wandering without a plan. Lisbon was my masterclass in the art of spontaneous discovery, where every hill hides a view, every corner tells a story, and every pastel de nata is a small piece of heaven.

P.S. - I still dream about those pastéis de nata. The recipe I found online? Not even close. Some magic can only be experienced in person, preferably with a view of the Tagus River and the sound of fado in the distance.