Lisbon

Rua do Crucifixo

A picture

Mesmo depois de lá ter passado uma vez ou outra, eu não sabia onde era a Rua do Crucifixo até ao dia em que abriu a estação da Baixa / Chiado. É assim que certas ruas ganham notoriedade. Da placa de mármore discreta, no topo de uma esquina, vêem de repente o seu nome figurar numa daquelas placas coloridas e proeminentes que indicam as saídas nas estações do Metro.

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A few snaps of Lisbon before I go

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When I was studying, I used to cruise downtown Lisbon on a daily basis. Nowadays, I don’t go there often anymore. When I needed to go in that direction, a couple of days ago, I decided to take the camera with me, let it dress me as a tourist again, and take some casual snapshots to post here.

It’s amazing how having a camera on your hands can change your attitude so much. Things that have been there since long, had certainly crossed my eyes, but never grabbed my gaze until now.

I assume lots of observant people grasp those colourful details without the need for a purpose. Not me. If I don’t force myself to lookout, my distracted mind will turn my attention inwards and I’m as good as blind.

The National Pantheon

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When you’re crossing the 25 de Abril bridge, driving into Lisbon, the National Pantheon, also called Sta. Engrácia’s Church, is one of the landmarks that stands out from the gorgeous cityscape.

Beautiful as it is from afar, on my ramblings a couple of weeks ago I found out it’s quite impressive from the inside too.

What happens to our dolls…

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… when we grow up?

A few of them lose themselves around the Lisbon flea market stalls. Some look empty, some look sad, some look terrified. Some have a doll orgy.

Gotta love the Lisbon flea market

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After many years without setting foot on that part of Lisbon, I visited Feira da Ladra again today. A few questions lingered on my mind: Who wears second hand shoes? How much of a market is there for rusty tools? How desperate do you have to be to buy a used vibrator from a floor stall?

If home is where the heart is, then I’m broken hearted.

I was born in Lisbon, lived there most of my life and it’s my favourite place in the world. It’s quite a small city, pretty and charming, quirky and of a relaxed personality. And the light… Lisbon has the most beautiful sunshine, it’s the kind of light that makes you a happier person. Home was definitely Lisbon, that’s where my heart was.

But when I came to London for the first time, I fell in love. I was big and buzzy, filled with things to do, and places to see. And the skies might be grey all the time, but how colourful was the crowd under the clouds!… London was a little remix of the world, and a week wasn’t even enough to understand it.

So I came back, for three months. The love-affair only grew stronger. And when I got back, Lisbon seemed too small, too limited, too claustrofobic. And so I packed all my life and moved, not knowing if I would ever return. My heart was definitely in London, that was home now.

Living in London transformed me, opened my eyes and my mind, it was the greatest adventure ever. But eventually, I found out London is like an expensive mistress, who makes you spend all your money and energy just to keep up with her glamorous lifestyle. And Lisbon started conquering me again, slowly. I was older and wiser, ready to value the simple things like the easy living pace, the sun coming through your windows in the morning, having your friends and family close by. I gave in and packed all my life. Again.

But something happened when I was leaving. As the car was crossing the city one last time, on the way to the airport, I felt an overwhelming sadness. My heart was breaking in two, and half of it was being left behind.

Once a Londoner, always a Londoner? I don’t know. But after a few months in Lisbon, I always start to get itchy, and need to come back, even if only for a few days. And it always feels I’m coming home.