Lisbon, Tram 28, and Getting Lost on Purpose
Everyone photographs the yellow tram. Fewer people ride it to the end of the line and then walk back through Graça with no map. That walk — past the tiled facades, the laundry lines, the old men arguing about football — is the part of Lisbon I keep thinking about.
Lisbon is a city that goes up and down more than it goes anywhere else. My advice is to surrender to it: pick a direction, accept the hills, and stop for a pastel de nata whenever the opportunity presents itself. It presents itself often.