Some cities reward wandering. Lisbon is one of them.

I arrived with a single recommendation from a friend — just walk downhill whenever you’re not sure where to go — and it turned out to be the best travel advice I’ve ever received. Every descent ends at the water, or a tram stop, or a bakery with a queue that tells you it’s worth joining.

What I did instead of planning

I had a hotel near Alfama and a vague intention to visit a museum. I never made it to the museum. Instead I spent three mornings in different cafés writing, two afternoons getting genuinely lost in Mouraria, and one evening watching the sun go down from Miradouro da Graça with a bag of cherries I’d bought for €1.50.

It was the best kind of trip — the kind where you have nothing to report except that you felt very awake the entire time.

The thing about pastéis de nata

You will eat more than you think is reasonable. This is fine.