Lisbon

Lisbon is a city of light and hills. The Tagus opens out in front of it, so wide it could already be the sea, and the sun goes down straight along it. Everything climbs, on foot or in small yellow trams that scrape past the walls. São Jorge Castle looks over the tiled roofs from its hill, and the facades are covered in azulejos, the painted tiles that fill a whole museum of their own. Down by the water, Belém Tower and Jerónimos Monastery hold the memory of the navigators who sailed from here to India and Brazil. Grilled fish is eaten on the pavement, custard tarts come out of the oven still warm, and fado is sung at night in small back rooms. The train along the river reaches the wide sand of Carcavelos Beach in twenty minutes, and further round the coast Guincho Beach runs long and wild behind its dunes.