A Morning Routine in Alfama

I rented an apartment in Alfama for a month, high enough that I could see the river from the window. Every morning, I followed the same route: down the Escadinhas de São Miguel, past the fado bars still closed from the night before, to the bakery on Rua dos Remédios.

The woman behind the counter knew my order by the third day: two pastéis de nata and a galão. I'd take them to the Miradouro de Santa Luzia and eat while the city woke up below me.

Alfama is Lisbon's oldest neighborhood, a maze of narrow streets and tiled facades that somehow survived the 1755 earthquake. It's also the most touristy, which means you have to time it right. Before 9 a.m., it's still yours.

After breakfast, I'd walk down to the river and follow the tram tracks west. The 28 tram is famous, but the 12 is better—it runs along the waterfront, past the fish market and the ferry terminal, all the way to Belém.

By ten, I'd be at the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos, before the tour buses arrived. By noon, I'd be back in Alfama, buying vegetables at the market and planning dinner.

Lisbon rewards routine. It's a city that reveals itself slowly, in layers. The longer you stay, the more you notice: the way the light changes on the tiles, the sound of fado drifting from an open window, the old men playing cards in the square. Stay a week, and you'll see the highlights. Stay a month, and you'll understand why people never leave.