Cities

Away Days: 24 hours in Lisbon

Food, football and fantastic February sun: Dan Poole finds plenty to get excited about on a trip to the Portuguese capital to watch Benfica play Ajax

On an unseasonably warm February day in Lisbon, the sun is beating down on the Praça do Comércio. It’s on a corner of this huge harbourfront plaza that many Ajax fans have taken up residence before their round of 16 opener against Benfica, utilising wheelie bins as makeshift drums to run through an extensive back catalogue of terrace tunes. 

Among them are Sam and Bloem Siewe, who arrived from Amsterdam a couple of days ago. But they didn’t come alone: the cousins have brought the whole family along. Siblings, parents, aunties, uncles; they’re all in attendance. I ask them for their highlight so far. “Everything, because the sun is shining,” says a smiling Sam, as she describes the wind and rain they left behind in the Dutch capital. “We’ve been strolling around, we went to the castle…”

“...But it’s mainly been about sitting in the sun and having fun,” interjects Bloem, taking a sip from her bottle of beer.

Lisbon is certainly bathed in sunshine, its streets lined with trees resplendent in leafy green. After 15 minutes, my jacket is off; I’ve made the call that it’s T-shirt weather, though everywhere I look, the locals have at least two layers on. Maybe my bare arms are advertising my Englisher status for miles around but guys, come on, it’s nearly 20C here.

Before long I’ve made it to the banks of the Rio Tejo, all shimmer and sparkle. The outdoor seating at nearby bars and cafés is dominated by Ajax fans. At one establishment, they’ve managed to drape a club flag on the rails of the balcony above them; at another, I am suddenly made to feel overdressed by the sight of a strong and not very silent type stripped to the waist. However, stomach rumbling (mine, not his), I have places to be.

Specifically, the Time Out food hall in the Mercado da Ribeira on the waterfront in Cais do Sodré. Inside, the low hum of conviviality is punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the clatter of cutlery. Ranged around the edge of the hall are the many eateries available to wide-eyed diners, serving seafood, pizza, hams, petiscos and everything in between. Being one of those vegan types, I find suitable nourishment at the stall of Vincent Farges, a Michelin-starred French chef who has lived in Portugal for nigh on 20 years. I partake of the quinoa salad with roasted tofu, broccoli, avocado, roasted cashews and spicy tempeh. It’s delicious.

Outside, the number of Ajax fans has increased, many of them decked out in that insanely popular Three Little Birds-inspired third kit. There is music, there is laughter, there is piña colada in hollowed-out pineapples; Bob Marley would have lapped this up.

The Time Out food hall (top right), Praça do Comércio (right)

I meet another supporter called Eveline Schreurs, who is with two friends. The day before, they had all been holidaying in Málaga but, having manged to get tickets online, they decided to make the six-hour drive to be here. “It was a once in a lifetime opportunity,” she says. “And it’s a beautiful city.”

She’s right there. I also discover that it’s a city with one of the finest inventions I’ve ever seen: benches specifically created to recline upon. They are designed like two back-to-back sun loungers at a 45-degree angle and are wide enough to accommodate two people on each side – and that’s exactly how the majority of them are being utilised as I walk past. 

Sadly, I have no time to join in: I need to make my way to the Estádio do Sport Lisboa e Benfica. I hail a taxi and state my destination; no chance, says the cabbie. Roads will be too busy and it will take ages. But it’s two hours till kick-off? Doesn’t matter. Instead he drops me at the Metro, tells me to jump on the Azul line and get out at Colégio Militar/Luz. 

I’m at the stadium a mere 15 minutes later. The Benfica fans are congregating at the wall-to-wall food trucks roulotes that surround one half of the ground; one particularly popular spot is around a small amphitheatre-esque set-up, where fans are stood behind concrete tables facing a small stage. The performer is an elderly gentleman belting out Benfica bangers, occasionally accompanied by fans invited to duet with him. 

He’s midway through a heavily modified version of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah when I start talking to Rita Franco, a Benfica supporter who’s here with three friends. She confirms that they are regular attendees and always grab something to eat first, with the Portuguese pork sandwich that goes by the name of bifana seeming to be the meal of choice. And does Rita think that breaking bread together before a game is important? “It’s the spirit of football,” she says, nodding. “It raises the spirits and brings people together.”

Judging by the atmosphere inside the stadium, Rita has captured the zeitgeist. The Ajax fans are making a lot of noise high away to my right, but the Benfica faithful are matching them. And this continues throughout the game; the sustained support for the home club from all sides of the ground is heartening to witness. One of the most striking examples is when a call-and-response cry of “Benfica!” goes up just before Ajax’s first goal. While Dušan Tadić’s effort does bring the chant to a halt, it’s only temporary – 30 seconds later it resumes, louder than before.

Outside, the number of Ajax fans has increased, many of them decked out in that insanely popular Three Little Birds-inspired third kit. There is music, there is laughter, there is piña colada in hollowed-out pineapples; Bob Marley would have lapped this up.

Benfica’s equaliser comes eight minutes later, greeted by a huge roar and much twirling of scarves. Ajax are ahead again within three minutes through Sébastien Haller but the din is undimmed, not least from the fan behind me who encourages any Benfica player in the final third to “Shooto!”, followed by “Oooosh!” should he miss the target. In front of me a young brother and sister, attending with their dad, clap in unison when a strong challenge puts the ball out for an Ajax throw-in; they already recognise the value of stoicism in the face of adversity. They see it too in Ukraine’s Roman Yaremchuk, the scorer of Benfica’s second equaliser.

On my walk back to the hotel after the game, I enjoy the sight of aeroplanes flying low over the city above me, and the lamplight glinting off the ubiquitous limestone cobbles below me. I pass a young couple walking home arm in arm, a Benfica scarf around the boy’s neck. And around every corner another small, tucked-away restaurant with a whole family taking over its outdoor seating, relishing dinner together. 

The next morning I have time to explore the city a little more before my plane home. First I head to the Bairro Alto, the city’s old town. I pass through a small, beautiful square called Praca da Alegria, where a central fountain is the focal point for a few keen souls doing their morning workouts. Walking along Rua do Norte, I look up to see an old woman hanging washing off her balcony; on another corner, I pop into a grocery shop to buy some fruit. Then I make a delicious discovery: a place called Vegan Nata selling plant-based pastel de nata. I get a coffee too, which comes in a cup you can eat when you’ve finished; there’s magic in the air this morning.

Next, I make the trek up to the Castelo de São Jorge, which has been here since BC times. It’s said that Lisbon is built on seven hills and, if that’s the case, they must have all been on the route I took to get to the castle. It’s a great walk though, with unexpected staircases and intriguing alleyways to savour. Bring comfy shoes, mind.

The castle itself, despite its bloody past, is a remarkably peaceful spot today (especially if you head there early like I did, not long after it opens at 9am). As I wander around the ramparts, the sweet fragrance of sarcococca fills the air, as do conversations between the resident peacocks. A fascinating archaeology site reveals the layers of history here, literally piled one on top of the other. 

It gives me pause to find a bench and look down upon the city, with all its pastel colours and orange roofs. That said, it’s a city with hard edges too; there’s cracked plaster and peeling paint in among the beautiful azulejo tiles. But that’s what they come for: entire Dutch families, friends sharing bifana, young couples walking home together after the game, all soaking up the imperfect spirit of Lisboa. 

In fact, when I left the Metro on my way to the game the night before, I spied a Benfica banner displaying the message “De todos, um.” It’s worth looking up. 

CJ joins Lisbon native José Macena on a tour of his favourite bars
Pub brawl

O Barbas

Rua Pedro Álvares Cabral, Costa da Caparica

Classic seafood served up by Benfica’s greatest – and most bearded – fan. A bit of a trek from the centre, but a favourite among Benfica players, past and present.

Imprensa

Rua da Imprensa Nacional 46

Cocktails and oysters are the thing in this buzzing bar in the fashionable Príncipe Real district. The oysters are fresh from Setubal, the other side of the Tagus.

A Tabacaria Lisboa

Rua de S. Paulo 75 77

Hop on the tram to this beautiful old-style bar in the Bairro Alto. This converted tobacconists is renowned for its tapas, relaxed vibe and traditional decor.

Tati

Rua Carrilho Videira 20B

Neighbourhood café/bar in Penha de França, with an impressive natural-wine list offering a great intro to Portuguese offerings. There are locally inspired dishes to accompany them too.

Toca da Raposa

Rua da Condessa 45

Super modern, trendy bar in the Bairro Alto that feels like you’ve entered a cave – complete with massive stone bar – when you step in off the street.

Static

Rua da Madalena 195

Hotel bar smack in the centre of town with a terrace boasting a terrific view of the city. Sit back and look out over the Tagus river listening to Static’s live DJ sets. 

On an unseasonably warm February day in Lisbon, the sun is beating down on the Praça do Comércio. It’s on a corner of this huge harbourfront plaza that many Ajax fans have taken up residence before their round of 16 opener against Benfica, utilising wheelie bins as makeshift drums to run through an extensive back catalogue of terrace tunes. 

Among them are Sam and Bloem Siewe, who arrived from Amsterdam a couple of days ago. But they didn’t come alone: the cousins have brought the whole family along. Siblings, parents, aunties, uncles; they’re all in attendance. I ask them for their highlight so far. “Everything, because the sun is shining,” says a smiling Sam, as she describes the wind and rain they left behind in the Dutch capital. “We’ve been strolling around, we went to the castle…”

“...But it’s mainly been about sitting in the sun and having fun,” interjects Bloem, taking a sip from her bottle of beer.

Lisbon is certainly bathed in sunshine, its streets lined with trees resplendent in leafy green. After 15 minutes, my jacket is off; I’ve made the call that it’s T-shirt weather, though everywhere I look, the locals have at least two layers on. Maybe my bare arms are advertising my Englisher status for miles around but guys, come on, it’s nearly 20C here.

Before long I’ve made it to the banks of the Rio Tejo, all shimmer and sparkle. The outdoor seating at nearby bars and cafés is dominated by Ajax fans. At one establishment, they’ve managed to drape a club flag on the rails of the balcony above them; at another, I am suddenly made to feel overdressed by the sight of a strong and not very silent type stripped to the waist. However, stomach rumbling (mine, not his), I have places to be.

Specifically, the Time Out food hall in the Mercado da Ribeira on the waterfront in Cais do Sodré. Inside, the low hum of conviviality is punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the clatter of cutlery. Ranged around the edge of the hall are the many eateries available to wide-eyed diners, serving seafood, pizza, hams, petiscos and everything in between. Being one of those vegan types, I find suitable nourishment at the stall of Vincent Farges, a Michelin-starred French chef who has lived in Portugal for nigh on 20 years. I partake of the quinoa salad with roasted tofu, broccoli, avocado, roasted cashews and spicy tempeh. It’s delicious.

Outside, the number of Ajax fans has increased, many of them decked out in that insanely popular Three Little Birds-inspired third kit. There is music, there is laughter, there is piña colada in hollowed-out pineapples; Bob Marley would have lapped this up.

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The Time Out food hall (top right), Praça do Comércio (right)

I meet another supporter called Eveline Schreurs, who is with two friends. The day before, they had all been holidaying in Málaga but, having manged to get tickets online, they decided to make the six-hour drive to be here. “It was a once in a lifetime opportunity,” she says. “And it’s a beautiful city.”

She’s right there. I also discover that it’s a city with one of the finest inventions I’ve ever seen: benches specifically created to recline upon. They are designed like two back-to-back sun loungers at a 45-degree angle and are wide enough to accommodate two people on each side – and that’s exactly how the majority of them are being utilised as I walk past. 

Sadly, I have no time to join in: I need to make my way to the Estádio do Sport Lisboa e Benfica. I hail a taxi and state my destination; no chance, says the cabbie. Roads will be too busy and it will take ages. But it’s two hours till kick-off? Doesn’t matter. Instead he drops me at the Metro, tells me to jump on the Azul line and get out at Colégio Militar/Luz. 

I’m at the stadium a mere 15 minutes later. The Benfica fans are congregating at the wall-to-wall food trucks roulotes that surround one half of the ground; one particularly popular spot is around a small amphitheatre-esque set-up, where fans are stood behind concrete tables facing a small stage. The performer is an elderly gentleman belting out Benfica bangers, occasionally accompanied by fans invited to duet with him. 

He’s midway through a heavily modified version of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah when I start talking to Rita Franco, a Benfica supporter who’s here with three friends. She confirms that they are regular attendees and always grab something to eat first, with the Portuguese pork sandwich that goes by the name of bifana seeming to be the meal of choice. And does Rita think that breaking bread together before a game is important? “It’s the spirit of football,” she says, nodding. “It raises the spirits and brings people together.”

Judging by the atmosphere inside the stadium, Rita has captured the zeitgeist. The Ajax fans are making a lot of noise high away to my right, but the Benfica faithful are matching them. And this continues throughout the game; the sustained support for the home club from all sides of the ground is heartening to witness. One of the most striking examples is when a call-and-response cry of “Benfica!” goes up just before Ajax’s first goal. While Dušan Tadić’s effort does bring the chant to a halt, it’s only temporary – 30 seconds later it resumes, louder than before.

Outside, the number of Ajax fans has increased, many of them decked out in that insanely popular Three Little Birds-inspired third kit. There is music, there is laughter, there is piña colada in hollowed-out pineapples; Bob Marley would have lapped this up.

Benfica’s equaliser comes eight minutes later, greeted by a huge roar and much twirling of scarves. Ajax are ahead again within three minutes through Sébastien Haller but the din is undimmed, not least from the fan behind me who encourages any Benfica player in the final third to “Shooto!”, followed by “Oooosh!” should he miss the target. In front of me a young brother and sister, attending with their dad, clap in unison when a strong challenge puts the ball out for an Ajax throw-in; they already recognise the value of stoicism in the face of adversity. They see it too in Ukraine’s Roman Yaremchuk, the scorer of Benfica’s second equaliser.

On my walk back to the hotel after the game, I enjoy the sight of aeroplanes flying low over the city above me, and the lamplight glinting off the ubiquitous limestone cobbles below me. I pass a young couple walking home arm in arm, a Benfica scarf around the boy’s neck. And around every corner another small, tucked-away restaurant with a whole family taking over its outdoor seating, relishing dinner together. 

The next morning I have time to explore the city a little more before my plane home. First I head to the Bairro Alto, the city’s old town. I pass through a small, beautiful square called Praca da Alegria, where a central fountain is the focal point for a few keen souls doing their morning workouts. Walking along Rua do Norte, I look up to see an old woman hanging washing off her balcony; on another corner, I pop into a grocery shop to buy some fruit. Then I make a delicious discovery: a place called Vegan Nata selling plant-based pastel de nata. I get a coffee too, which comes in a cup you can eat when you’ve finished; there’s magic in the air this morning.

Next, I make the trek up to the Castelo de São Jorge, which has been here since BC times. It’s said that Lisbon is built on seven hills and, if that’s the case, they must have all been on the route I took to get to the castle. It’s a great walk though, with unexpected staircases and intriguing alleyways to savour. Bring comfy shoes, mind.

The castle itself, despite its bloody past, is a remarkably peaceful spot today (especially if you head there early like I did, not long after it opens at 9am). As I wander around the ramparts, the sweet fragrance of sarcococca fills the air, as do conversations between the resident peacocks. A fascinating archaeology site reveals the layers of history here, literally piled one on top of the other. 

It gives me pause to find a bench and look down upon the city, with all its pastel colours and orange roofs. That said, it’s a city with hard edges too; there’s cracked plaster and peeling paint in among the beautiful azulejo tiles. But that’s what they come for: entire Dutch families, friends sharing bifana, young couples walking home together after the game, all soaking up the imperfect spirit of Lisboa. 

In fact, when I left the Metro on my way to the game the night before, I spied a Benfica banner displaying the message “De todos, um.” It’s worth looking up. 

CJ joins Lisbon native José Macena on a tour of his favourite bars
Pub brawl

O Barbas

Rua Pedro Álvares Cabral, Costa da Caparica

Classic seafood served up by Benfica’s greatest – and most bearded – fan. A bit of a trek from the centre, but a favourite among Benfica players, past and present.

Imprensa

Rua da Imprensa Nacional 46

Cocktails and oysters are the thing in this buzzing bar in the fashionable Príncipe Real district. The oysters are fresh from Setubal, the other side of the Tagus.

A Tabacaria Lisboa

Rua de S. Paulo 75 77

Hop on the tram to this beautiful old-style bar in the Bairro Alto. This converted tobacconists is renowned for its tapas, relaxed vibe and traditional decor.

Tati

Rua Carrilho Videira 20B

Neighbourhood café/bar in Penha de França, with an impressive natural-wine list offering a great intro to Portuguese offerings. There are locally inspired dishes to accompany them too.

Toca da Raposa

Rua da Condessa 45

Super modern, trendy bar in the Bairro Alto that feels like you’ve entered a cave – complete with massive stone bar – when you step in off the street.

Static

Rua da Madalena 195

Hotel bar smack in the centre of town with a terrace boasting a terrific view of the city. Sit back and look out over the Tagus river listening to Static’s live DJ sets. 

On an unseasonably warm February day in Lisbon, the sun is beating down on the Praça do Comércio. It’s on a corner of this huge harbourfront plaza that many Ajax fans have taken up residence before their round of 16 opener against Benfica, utilising wheelie bins as makeshift drums to run through an extensive back catalogue of terrace tunes. 

Among them are Sam and Bloem Siewe, who arrived from Amsterdam a couple of days ago. But they didn’t come alone: the cousins have brought the whole family along. Siblings, parents, aunties, uncles; they’re all in attendance. I ask them for their highlight so far. “Everything, because the sun is shining,” says a smiling Sam, as she describes the wind and rain they left behind in the Dutch capital. “We’ve been strolling around, we went to the castle…”

“...But it’s mainly been about sitting in the sun and having fun,” interjects Bloem, taking a sip from her bottle of beer.

Lisbon is certainly bathed in sunshine, its streets lined with trees resplendent in leafy green. After 15 minutes, my jacket is off; I’ve made the call that it’s T-shirt weather, though everywhere I look, the locals have at least two layers on. Maybe my bare arms are advertising my Englisher status for miles around but guys, come on, it’s nearly 20C here.

Before long I’ve made it to the banks of the Rio Tejo, all shimmer and sparkle. The outdoor seating at nearby bars and cafés is dominated by Ajax fans. At one establishment, they’ve managed to drape a club flag on the rails of the balcony above them; at another, I am suddenly made to feel overdressed by the sight of a strong and not very silent type stripped to the waist. However, stomach rumbling (mine, not his), I have places to be.

Specifically, the Time Out food hall in the Mercado da Ribeira on the waterfront in Cais do Sodré. Inside, the low hum of conviviality is punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the clatter of cutlery. Ranged around the edge of the hall are the many eateries available to wide-eyed diners, serving seafood, pizza, hams, petiscos and everything in between. Being one of those vegan types, I find suitable nourishment at the stall of Vincent Farges, a Michelin-starred French chef who has lived in Portugal for nigh on 20 years. I partake of the quinoa salad with roasted tofu, broccoli, avocado, roasted cashews and spicy tempeh. It’s delicious.

Outside, the number of Ajax fans has increased, many of them decked out in that insanely popular Three Little Birds-inspired third kit. There is music, there is laughter, there is piña colada in hollowed-out pineapples; Bob Marley would have lapped this up.

The Time Out food hall (top right), Praça do Comércio (right)

I meet another supporter called Eveline Schreurs, who is with two friends. The day before, they had all been holidaying in Málaga but, having manged to get tickets online, they decided to make the six-hour drive to be here. “It was a once in a lifetime opportunity,” she says. “And it’s a beautiful city.”

She’s right there. I also discover that it’s a city with one of the finest inventions I’ve ever seen: benches specifically created to recline upon. They are designed like two back-to-back sun loungers at a 45-degree angle and are wide enough to accommodate two people on each side – and that’s exactly how the majority of them are being utilised as I walk past. 

Sadly, I have no time to join in: I need to make my way to the Estádio do Sport Lisboa e Benfica. I hail a taxi and state my destination; no chance, says the cabbie. Roads will be too busy and it will take ages. But it’s two hours till kick-off? Doesn’t matter. Instead he drops me at the Metro, tells me to jump on the Azul line and get out at Colégio Militar/Luz. 

I’m at the stadium a mere 15 minutes later. The Benfica fans are congregating at the wall-to-wall food trucks roulotes that surround one half of the ground; one particularly popular spot is around a small amphitheatre-esque set-up, where fans are stood behind concrete tables facing a small stage. The performer is an elderly gentleman belting out Benfica bangers, occasionally accompanied by fans invited to duet with him. 

He’s midway through a heavily modified version of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah when I start talking to Rita Franco, a Benfica supporter who’s here with three friends. She confirms that they are regular attendees and always grab something to eat first, with the Portuguese pork sandwich that goes by the name of bifana seeming to be the meal of choice. And does Rita think that breaking bread together before a game is important? “It’s the spirit of football,” she says, nodding. “It raises the spirits and brings people together.”

Judging by the atmosphere inside the stadium, Rita has captured the zeitgeist. The Ajax fans are making a lot of noise high away to my right, but the Benfica faithful are matching them. And this continues throughout the game; the sustained support for the home club from all sides of the ground is heartening to witness. One of the most striking examples is when a call-and-response cry of “Benfica!” goes up just before Ajax’s first goal. While Dušan Tadić’s effort does bring the chant to a halt, it’s only temporary – 30 seconds later it resumes, louder than before.

Outside, the number of Ajax fans has increased, many of them decked out in that insanely popular Three Little Birds-inspired third kit. There is music, there is laughter, there is piña colada in hollowed-out pineapples; Bob Marley would have lapped this up.

Benfica’s equaliser comes eight minutes later, greeted by a huge roar and much twirling of scarves. Ajax are ahead again within three minutes through Sébastien Haller but the din is undimmed, not least from the fan behind me who encourages any Benfica player in the final third to “Shooto!”, followed by “Oooosh!” should he miss the target. In front of me a young brother and sister, attending with their dad, clap in unison when a strong challenge puts the ball out for an Ajax throw-in; they already recognise the value of stoicism in the face of adversity. They see it too in Ukraine’s Roman Yaremchuk, the scorer of Benfica’s second equaliser.

On my walk back to the hotel after the game, I enjoy the sight of aeroplanes flying low over the city above me, and the lamplight glinting off the ubiquitous limestone cobbles below me. I pass a young couple walking home arm in arm, a Benfica scarf around the boy’s neck. And around every corner another small, tucked-away restaurant with a whole family taking over its outdoor seating, relishing dinner together. 

The next morning I have time to explore the city a little more before my plane home. First I head to the Bairro Alto, the city’s old town. I pass through a small, beautiful square called Praca da Alegria, where a central fountain is the focal point for a few keen souls doing their morning workouts. Walking along Rua do Norte, I look up to see an old woman hanging washing off her balcony; on another corner, I pop into a grocery shop to buy some fruit. Then I make a delicious discovery: a place called Vegan Nata selling plant-based pastel de nata. I get a coffee too, which comes in a cup you can eat when you’ve finished; there’s magic in the air this morning.

Next, I make the trek up to the Castelo de São Jorge, which has been here since BC times. It’s said that Lisbon is built on seven hills and, if that’s the case, they must have all been on the route I took to get to the castle. It’s a great walk though, with unexpected staircases and intriguing alleyways to savour. Bring comfy shoes, mind.

The castle itself, despite its bloody past, is a remarkably peaceful spot today (especially if you head there early like I did, not long after it opens at 9am). As I wander around the ramparts, the sweet fragrance of sarcococca fills the air, as do conversations between the resident peacocks. A fascinating archaeology site reveals the layers of history here, literally piled one on top of the other. 

It gives me pause to find a bench and look down upon the city, with all its pastel colours and orange roofs. That said, it’s a city with hard edges too; there’s cracked plaster and peeling paint in among the beautiful azulejo tiles. But that’s what they come for: entire Dutch families, friends sharing bifana, young couples walking home together after the game, all soaking up the imperfect spirit of Lisboa. 

In fact, when I left the Metro on my way to the game the night before, I spied a Benfica banner displaying the message “De todos, um.” It’s worth looking up. 

CJ joins Lisbon native José Macena on a tour of his favourite bars
Pub brawl

O Barbas

Rua Pedro Álvares Cabral, Costa da Caparica

Classic seafood served up by Benfica’s greatest – and most bearded – fan. A bit of a trek from the centre, but a favourite among Benfica players, past and present.

Imprensa

Rua da Imprensa Nacional 46

Cocktails and oysters are the thing in this buzzing bar in the fashionable Príncipe Real district. The oysters are fresh from Setubal, the other side of the Tagus.

A Tabacaria Lisboa

Rua de S. Paulo 75 77

Hop on the tram to this beautiful old-style bar in the Bairro Alto. This converted tobacconists is renowned for its tapas, relaxed vibe and traditional decor.

Tati

Rua Carrilho Videira 20B

Neighbourhood café/bar in Penha de França, with an impressive natural-wine list offering a great intro to Portuguese offerings. There are locally inspired dishes to accompany them too.

Toca da Raposa

Rua da Condessa 45

Super modern, trendy bar in the Bairro Alto that feels like you’ve entered a cave – complete with massive stone bar – when you step in off the street.

Static

Rua da Madalena 195

Hotel bar smack in the centre of town with a terrace boasting a terrific view of the city. Sit back and look out over the Tagus river listening to Static’s live DJ sets. 

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