Discovering the Hidden Charm of Lisbon's Streets: A Personal Journey

The Most Beautiful Corners of Lisbon

For me, the most beautiful place in Lisbon is the corner of Rua da Lapa with Rua de São Félix. As one walks along Rua da Lapa from west to east, Rua de São Félix surprises us on the right, as if the city suddenly dips, swallowed by the Tagus River. The river looms in the distance, seemingly creeping upon the land.

Most views of the river celebrated by locals tend to offer a sense of harmony. Recently, I discovered a lesser-known viewpoint at Chafariz das Necessidades. Although the new CUF hospital has obstructed part of the river view, it still captivates. The perspective of the Tagus from this spot evades the crowds, despite signs of neglect, with bottles littering the area and the scent of cannabis wafting during peak hours.

Another harmonious view is from Alto de Santo Amaro, a hidden gem in Alcântara, away from tourist swarms. The round chapel enhances the beauty of this location, offering an unusual perspective of the river and the bridge, reminiscent of a Martini ad from the 70s that captures the angle perfectly.

These views belong to the broader family of Lisbon's harmonious sights. When we think of more stereotypical postcard views, like São Pedro de Alcântara or Portas do Sol, they exude a sense of peace, making our capital inviting and ready to compete on international tourist lists. However, the problem lies in this very perfection; one does not love a city only during its best moments.

Last week, our night dreams intertwined with our national trauma from the earthquake, causing us to deidealize Lisbon's beauty. This city still has the ability to make us tremble. Perhaps that’s why I project my preference for the corner of Rua da Lapa with Rua de São Félix as a symbol of what Lisbon evokes in my heart: I love my city even for its flaws.

The corner of Rua da Lapa with Rua de São Félix represents the most fascinating visual imbalance in a city accustomed to charming photographs. It’s true that the next corners on Remédios and São João da Mata extend this phenomenon, but they don’t intensify it like São Félix does. As I cross Rua da Lapa, I make pledges of love to the city where I was born because it is beautiful. Yet, amidst the vertigo of a potentially frightening river, I remember that this is just a rehearsal for the only place that will surpass Lisbon: New Jerusalem.