Resistance is useless: Lisbon enchants the first-time visitor. Its elegant, faintly magical timelessness set amongst impossibly steep terrain draws you in. Twice in its history the richest city in the world, it has decayed but refused to die, constantly reinventing itself, always looking outwards beyond the ocean that defines it.

Lisboetas love their city. They sit and gaze at the ferries criss-crossing the Tagus from the many perfectly-placed miradouros, or viewpoints; they eat grilled sardines in the streets of the Alfama district; they party ‘til dawn in the clubs and bars of Alcantara and the Bairro Alto; and yes, they really do get around on those rattly old trams and funiculars.

But they also ride the gleaming new metro out to the elegant modernism of the Parque das Nações, home of the 1998 Expo, and to Belém’s handsome Cultural Centre, before stopping in at the Antiga Confeitaria de Belém for a clutch of their legendary pastries. And if they want, they can be on Caparica’s endless sandy beaches in half an hour or so.

Life is good here, and Lisboetas know it. Why on earth would anyone want to go anywhere else?


Why I love it ...
By Abigail Hole, author, Lonely Planet Portugal

As romantic as Paris, as fun as Madrid, decadent Lisbon is a pastel patchwork beside the peacock-blue Tagus, overlooked by a Christ statue in an echo of Rio. The Belém district evokes Portugal’s glorious Age of Discoveries, with an extraordinary church and has justly famous custard tarts. Song-worthy barbecued sardines are served in the crumbling Moorish Alfama district. Bairro Alto is all shot-sized bars and cool restaurants. Here the weekend begins on Wednesday. And, for me, finishes at Lux, John Malkovich’s riverside nightclub, seeing the sun rise over the pearly Tagus.