When I came to Lisbon for the first time last summer, I had this weird feeling that there is something special to the city that I cannot pin-point or define. Normally when I visit a city and walk around, I have an AHA! moment after a few days. You get this feeling of familiarity and satisfaction: Been there, done that. But this time, something was missing to fully understand the city and it’s mentality. Something more than it’s magical sunlight and sunsets (even in February), colourful and historical buildings, vibrant music scene and delicious seafood…

Being back in the city for a whole month in February allowed me to deepen my conversations with the city and discover Lisbon’s real personality. To me Lisbon is like one of these friends, who is very friendly and open-minded, full of humour, goofiness and creativity. But there is also this tiny touch of sweet sadness and melancholy. 

I kind of imagine this melancholy as a gloomy layer all over the city  which makes the vibrant colours appear as pastels.  The building’s facades adorned with broken azulejos almost appear like a classy piece of vintage haute couture with moth holes. In the afternoon, Lisbon’s yellow tram rattles slowly through the narrow empty streets of the city and leaves a trail of nostalgia from an old movie. While you walk up the steepest streets, you are unexpectedly rewarded by a whiff of laundry, which raises your imagination of being in a wildflower meadow - a feeling which lasts only for a moment like a daydream. Between the laundry loaded windows and balconies you most of the time detect a crinkle-faced senhora or senhor enjoying a cigarette and observing the world. I feel like there is always this repeating joyful and dreamy sadness accompanying your days in Lisbon which I finally understood is the “something” which makes your visit special: 

Bom dia , Saudade!