LISBON
INS I D ER TI P S
The city’s moreish pastéis de nata (cinnamon-dusted custard tarts) are best warm from the oven. Try them at the Manteigaria, a butter shop turned patisserie on the Rua do Loreto, or at Pastéis de Belém, where monks began making them in 1837.
pasteisdebelem.pt
After work, many Lisboetas gravitate towards quiosques: gazebo-like kiosk cafes in the city’s parks, gardens, squares and miradouros. They sell inexpensive wine, beer, coffee and snacks.
For a glimpse of old-school Lisbon, pop into a cubby-hole ginjinha (sour cherry liqueur) bar. Most famous of the lot is A Ginjinha, on Largo de São Domingos — going strong since 1840. Order your ginjinha with or without cherry.
E-scooters and e-bikes are a great way to get around. Download the Bolt or Lime app to use them. Stick to the streets and bike lanes where possible.
bolt.eu li.me
“Vhils started as a tagger but got his big
break collaborating with Banksy at the Cans Festival in 2008,” Véro explains. “Now he uses explosives, demolition tools and chemicals to carve the city walls, in a process he calls ‘creative destruction’.” You might think this would ruffle local feathers, but Lisboetas hardly bat an eyelid, she assures me. Such daring street art contrasts with
the graceful Renaissance spires of Graça’s Monastery of São Vicente de Fora, overlooking the broad, blue arm of the river and the dome of the baroque National Pantheon. We round a bend and reach Campo de Santa Clara square, where the Feira da Ladra flea market springs up on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Here, an azulejo panel running along a
188-metre-long wall catches my eye. It depicts a fantastical cityscape filled with rainbows, crenellated towers and hot air balloons, accompanied by a doodle of a spindly legged, top-hatted man — the hallmark of Swedish- French street artist André Saraiva. Véro calls him the “godfather of contemporary urban art”, as he was one of the first to break onto the street art scene, having covered Paris in illegal graffiti in the 1980s. Next, we venture off-piste to a car park
Clockwise from top: Sour cherry liqueur bar A Ginjinha; Elevador de Santa Justa, Lisbon’s only street lift; drinks at The Vintage hotel; azulejo art at Campo de Santa Clara square. Previous pages: Enjoying the view from Miradouro da Senhora do Monte
behind a block of flats, to contemplate murals of giant cats and cubist, Picasso-like portraits, painted during a festival devoted to female street artists. After that, it’s on to Shepard Fairey’s Revolution Woman, which depicts a freedom fighter holding a machine gun with a flower inserted into the barrel — a nod to 1974 military coup the Carnation Revolution, which ended over 40 years of dictatorship in Portugal. But most arresting of all is Tropical Fado in RGB, by Lisbon-based street artist OzeArv, a rainbow-bright
eruption of birds and flowers that spreads up the side of a three-storey apartment block. I meet OzeArv, aka José Carvalho, over
a pancake brunch in retro-cool cafe Maria Limão, in the heart of Graça, where his intricate foliage murals grow wildly up the walls. A warm, charismatic, softly spoken man with a crop of curly hair and an easy, childlike smile, José started tagging in the 1990s, then took his colourful street art all over the world. Lisbon is now, once again, his canvas. “With street art, you can paint wherever you
want,” he says. “It creates a cultural dialogue with communities and gives underrepresented people a voice — even a sense of pride. In this way, it can be a catalyst for social change. It’s a shared experience — people feel free to give their opinions.” He continues: “I get much pleasure from
being up on the crane or on climbing ropes, high above ground level, drawing my dreams. I like to combine the graphic with the realistic, use clashing colours and hide stories within stories. And Lisbon has the best light to paint. India is the only other country I know with this kind of golden light.” In search of that same light, I make it my
mission to seek out Lisbon’s most enticing lookouts to best take it in. I begin, a quick tram ride south of Graça, with a leisurely, city-gazing breakfast on the roof terrace of boho The Lumiares Hotel & Spa. It’s shoehorned into the sloping, bar-rammed lanes of the Bairro Alto district, where Lisbon parties by night and quietly nurses a hangover by day. Set in an 18th-century former palace, the hotel is an ode to Lisbon’s light, with painter and muralist Jacqueline de Montaigne’s huge, dreamlike murals of gold- haloed women framed by fluttering swallows sweeping up staircases.
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