Ana Raspini is a traveler, besides being an English teacher, and a writer.

Minha foto
Brasileira, professora de Inglês, escritora, mas acima de tudo, viajante.
Lyrical Travel Journal

A personal, slightly lyrical, point of view on the places I have been to.

terça-feira, 4 de novembro de 2014

LISBON

The first strange feeling I had in Lisbon was its familiarity. None of the European cities I had been before, and none of the cities I visited afterwards, was as familiar for a Brazilian as Lisbon.
The avenues with a garden line in the middle, the smell of the ocean… Forget the pigeons, seagulls rein here. They are so important that the Portuguese sing about them in their ‘fados’, and they even say they are seagulls themselves.
The language, however, is strange and familiar at the same time. Sometimes, it makes you sigh, sometimes it makes you laugh.
The city is steep, very steep. You are either going up or down. Flat surface only by river Tejo or the Atlantic. In Lisbon I saw “staircase-sidewalks” for the first time. If you get too tired, take the cable cars… Anywhere.
Tiles, townhouses, the green grass. Art is everywhere. But the most surprising: poems at every step. Fernando Pessoa would be so proud… And on we go: a sigh for every step.
Praça do Comércio has a path towards the sea, and Saint George’s Castle does not belong to the saint, it belongs to the cats, so many cats… The saints, by the way, are plenty. But the humbleness at the Sé Church must be the one that makes them more content.
Fado Vadio is one of those things that hook you since the first try. And watch your heart, Portuguese know how to be melancholic, which is good for art, and has always been. As a matter of fact, I always enjoyed self-derogatory people, the ones who can laugh at themselves. Being able to laugh at oneself is, by itself, an art. Yet, take the warnings seriously, even if they are too obvious, or too hilarious.
There is nothing like something sweet to heal a broken heart, and do they know how to make sweet things! There are the obvious pastries, the one you must fall in love with, but there are also the unimaginable, non-traditional, which can even heal old traumas.

In case the sweets can't manage to heal your broken heart, try the wine.
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For the Portuguese version, go to Meu Diário Lírico de Viagem