When a friend heard I was going to Portugal she asked, “Are you going to go to Lisbon?”. I believe I replied with something like, “I don’t know. Yeah. Maybe. Should I?”. How embarrassing! (I had a similar embarrassing experience when I was leaving for Cambodia and someone asked if I would be visiting Angkor Wat. “Angkor who?”) Lisbon is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been! If you’re not out walking the streets day and night you feel like you’re missing out. Beautiful architecture, colorful buildings, street musicians EVERYWHERE and historic cobblestone roads. And very friendly people.
My first day in Lisbon as I was leaving my hostel one of the workers advised me, “Lisbon is very safe. You can walk the streets day and night, but be careful of the drug dealers. They’re very agressive! They don’t take no for an answer”. This may have been the strangest travel advice I had ever received as a new traveler/tourist in a country. The helpful warning turned out to be absolutely true! As I stumbled through the narrow cobblestone streets of Lisbon I was approached repeatedly by friendly entrepreneurs, young and old, trying to sell me an impress variety of contraband, even offering free samples. And they did NOT take no for an answer. In fact I would switch up my replies: “I’m pregnant”, “Sorry, I’m allergic”, “I’m saving my money for postcards and duty-free liquor”, “I don’t speak English”, “Do you have anything in pink-lemonade flavor?”. Nothing worked! I finally started unapologetically touching their faces and they left me alone immediately. Not aggressively, but in a grandmotherly sort of way. I would just affectionately attempt to adjust their eyeglasses, pluck their unsightly eyebrow hairs, wipe a smudge off their cheek or finger-comb their hair. It turned out that on the cusp of the Covid-19 hygienic crisis, people did NOT enjoy having their faces touched.
The gentleman in this photo flagged me down in the street and said, “I have been sitting here on these steps playing guitar since 1pm and no one is stopping. Let me play you a song. I have to earn some coins for my lunch today”. I am always willing to pay a premium price for a good street performance so I abided. He did not disappoint! He was incredible! He played Fado, a traditional Portuguese style of guitar unique to Lisbon. He later told me that his guitar was recently stolen and the one he was playing he’d bought for $20 at a super market. I happily gave him 5 euro. He then said, “You know, I could be your guitar teacher”. “Absolutely!”, I replied. “How do I get in touch with you? Do you have a phone number? WhatsApp?”. (Of course, I was assuming he was more of a Snapchat or LinkedIn kinda dude.) He said, “No. None of those. I’m usually just sitting playing guitar on these stairs. Just come find me!”
And this was the foreshadowing of me falling in love with this specific style genre of European music. Fado is a mournful and sentimental style of song which can be about anything, but it is usually about the sea or the lives of poor people. Fado can be traced back to the 1820s in Lisbon, but like many European styles of art and music, it probably has earlier origins. Even if you can’t understand Portuguese, you are overwhelmed by the melancholy feeling of irreparable loss and heartbreak when you see and hear a Fado song performed. It is the music of sailors, bohemians, dock workers, port traders, fishermen, fishwives and other working-class people. My most memorable night in Lisbon was wandering from Fado bar to Fado bar sipping thimble size glasses of espresso and port wine.
Some places I leave after a brief stay and I miss them deeply. Other places I miss because of what they brought out in me and the person I became there. From my first Portuguese egg tart to my last rickety street car ride, Lisbon showed me a side of myself I wasn’t previously in touch with: a European history enthusiast, lover of architecture, foody and musical romantic.