Lisbon to Porto

Twelve days, two cities, too many pastéis.

Tram 28

Rode it end to end. Held on to my hat the whole way.

Still warm

Six pastéis de nata before noon. No regrets.

Belém

The tower looks smaller in photos. It is not small.

Alfama

Got lost on purpose. Found a fado bar by accident.

Golden hour

Everyone at the miradouro went quiet at once.

Sintra

A palace painted like a box of crayons.

Cascais

Salt in my hair, sand in every pocket.

Azulejos

Counted forty shades of blue on one wall.

Ribeira

Porto stacks its houses like books on a shelf.

The Douro

Vines on every hill, port in every glass.

Last night

The bridge lit up. We stayed until it didn’t.