Devetdnevno potovanje po Portugalski: od pristanka v Portu do Coimbre, obalnega Nazaréja in Lizbone, z izletom v pravljično Sintrо ter obiskom najbolj zahodne točke celinske Evrope – Cabo da Roca.
The idea of travelling to Portugal came from two reasons — well, actually three.
First, our February trip through Andalusia truly surprised us in the best possible way, and following that same logic, Portugal felt like the natural next step. And second, everyone we spoke to about this country talked about it with a certain special tone in their voice.
And finally, escaping from Gorenjska (the Alpine region where we live) to a slightly warmer autumn climate is always a good idea.
How We Travel
We fly from Ljubljana Airport whenever possible, as we've had more than a few unpleasant experiences when returning through nearby airports.
Brnik ostaja prva izbira tudi kadar ni direktnih letov, takrat iščemo možnosti pri Star Alliance, največkrat Swiss. Ponujajo povezave preko Züricha ali Frankfurta do skoraj kamorkoli.
The good thing is that their flight schedules are fairly reasonable, and they don’t make a drama out of a few millimetres of hand luggage. The less great part is that the first and last day of the trip are often reserved exclusively for layovers and waiting around.
Connecting in Zürich (Where Even a Sandwich Feels Like a Luxury Purchase)
crossing the Alps on the way to Portugal
Zurich, just an hour away, welcomed us with heavy turbulence and a €15 sandwich. A note for next time: bring your own snack!
Switzerland isn’t part of the EU, so I kept my phone on airplane mode while crossing the border — roaming charges here are anything but friendly. Then came our second flight, about two and a half hours long, heading toward Porto, some 1,500 kilometers away.
Landing and a Ride with a Story
Francisco Sá Carneiro Airport is connected to Porto by metro, but we were scheduled to land late in the afternoon, in the rain — exactly as forecast.— exactly as forecast. So I booked a transfer in advance, from home.
We were picked up by a driver who also happened to be a licensed tour guide, which meant our ride doubled as a half-hour introduction to Portugal..
He also told us that many visitors experience Porto only as a day trip from Lisbon, without staying the night.
We wanted to take it in at a calmer, slower pace, which is why we chose to begin our journey right here.
Our New Home
Our accommodation was located on Rua de Santa Catarina, in the Bolhão district — part of Porto’s wider city center. It’s one of the liveliest streets in town, packed with cafés, bakeries, and shops.
We chose this place because it’s perfect for exploring the city on foot, while the nearby metro makes it easy to reach the main train station — and from there, continue the journey across Portugal.
Porto
Porto is the second-largest city in Portugal and lies at the mouth of the Douro River as it flows into the Atlantic Ocean, in the north of the country. The city has around 230,000 inhabitants and is considered the cradle of Portugal — already in Roman times there was an important settlement here called Portus Cale. Over time, the name of the surrounding region evolved into Portucale, and from there the name of the entire country, Portugal, was born.
Porto is known for its historic Ribeira district, narrow stone streets, steep stairways, beautiful azulejo tiles, and of course — its world-famous port wine.
Dinner, then a well-deserved sleep after the long, bumpy day — for perfect start to the adventure that awaits us the next morning, when we finally get to meet Porto properly.
The view through the window promised a dry day, which was more than welcome, since the previous evening looked as if a rain cloud had been glued right above us. From our accommodation we stepped straight out onto Rua de Santa Catarina, the main pedestrian street cutting through the city’s old quarter.
Our first stop was a bakery for a quick morning coffee and a croissant, and just a few steps further we reached one of the most photographed churches in Portugal – the Chapel of Souls.
Capela das Almas – the Story of the Tiles
To understand why this church is so recognizable and one of Porto’s top photo spots, you first need to understand azulejos.
These glazed ceramic tiles arrived on the Iberian Peninsula together with the Moors. The word itself comes from the Arabic الزليج (al-zillij), supposedly meaning “polished stone” — or at least that’s what Wikipedia claims…
everyday city vibes
detail of blue-and-white azulejos
History says that the Portuguese king Manuel I fell in love with these tiles during a visit to Seville and the Real Alcázar palace, and returned home with the idea of bringing a similar style to Portugal.
The Portuguese adopted the tiles, refined them, and transformed them into something uniquely their own. Azulejos are not merely decoration, but a visual narrative woven into the everyday life of cities and churches.
Each tile is part of a larger picture, like a page in a book. When you stand before them, you’re not just looking — you’re reading. All 15,000 “pages” at once.
a 15,000-page book
Mercado do Bolhão and Santa Catarina — from Locals to the Whole World
People say that on Santa Catarina Street, you meet locals in the morning, and by midday you meet half the world — and indeed, it started filling up fast.
We made a short detour to the covered market Mercado do Bolhão, where we stocked up on fruit and spices, which sadly didn’t survive the journey back to Slovenia. Nara wished for strawberries the moment she spotted them.
Long ago, a natural spring flowed here, giving the area its name: Campo do Bolhão — the “field of bubbles.”
Walking among the vendors — one selling cheese, another herbs, others fruit and vegetables — you get the feeling the bubbles are still rising, just in a slightly different form.
Igreja de Santo Ildefonso – the Neighborhood Church
A short walk later, we find ourselves at the foot of the gently sloping Praça da Batalha, where the Igreja de Santo Ildefonso reveals itself through 11,000 azulejo tiles.
This was a church of the people – a neighborhood church, deeply rooted in family life. Craftsmen, merchants, and wine-making families were married here, generation after generation.
Santa Catarina Street ends here, and once again you become aware that cars, too, are an inseparable part of the city.
the church where Porto got married, cried, and celebrated.
São Bento – history on the walls and a grand tiled “bathhouse”
Another azulejos masterpiece is São Bento railway station. Crowded with tourists, yes – but for good reason.
As soon as you step into the main hall, you are surrounded by scenes from Portuguese history: battles, royal processions, rural life and everyday city scenes, all spread across more than 20,000 azulejos. São Bento is essentially a visual textbook of Portugal – except you don’t read it, you walk through it in just a few metres.
The space itself isn’t very large, which is why it quickly fills up with tour groups, each with its own guide trying to claim the best spot beneath the azulejos. So you end up watching two battle scenes at once — one on the wall, and one unfolding right in front of you.
meters of history
Before the station existed, a Benedictine monastery stood here.
For more than a decade, a single nun lived there entirely on her own.
Surrounded by crowds today, it is hard to imagine how empty and silent this place must have been when she was alone.
When she finally left the monastery in 1892, it was soon demolished and construction of the railway station began.
That long period of solitude later became part of local folklore. Porto says that the spirit of the last nun still appears at the station — a quiet reminder of what once stood here. They say that late at night, when the hall finally settles and tourists drift away, you might hear the soft rustle of robes or gentle steps across the tiles, as if someone were silently crossing the platform…
Of course, with all due respect to Portuguese culture — when you look at all these azulejos, you can’t help but think of one giant bathroom covered in blue-and-white tiles. And then there’s the crowd of people waiting for their trains… Beautiful and amusing all at once. I’ll end this thought here, before the good nun decides to come after me for my irreverence
The Most Beautiful McDonald’s in the World
This part of Porto was essentially one big construction site, so after a few improvised detours we somehow made it to Praça da Liberdade. The Square of Liberty, often described as the city’s living room. Here, the Portuguese — after all those colorful façades and blue-and-white tiles — wanted to show the world that they, too, can be elegant and dignified.
The square sits exactly between the old and new Porto, aligned with the river and the city hall. It’s framed by neoclassical buildings, massive façades, columns, symmetry, and the equestrian statue of King Pedro IV… all of it radiating a sense of grandeur and seriousness.
And then you look to the right. And there it is — a McDonald’s. Complete with stained-glass windows and chandeliers, supposedly the most beautiful in the world. They almost pulled off the seriousness.
Liberty Square
with very serious buildings
one Big Mac, please
A City of Churches
Porto is a city of churches. In the historic center alone, there are more than thirty, and over a hundred across the wider urban area. This is no coincidence. In the 17th and 18th centuries, Porto was an important religious and commercial hub, which is why brotherhoods and religious orders built churches on nearly every available corner.
Because the city is built on a hilly landscape along the Douro River, these churches appear in layers: one bell tower above another, façades facing one another, stairways leading to ever new viewpoints. As you walk through Porto, you get the feeling that the city grows upward and downward at the same time – and that its bell towers keep it all in balance.
Sé do Porto – the Beginning of the City
On the Pena Ventosa hill, only one landmark truly reigns – the Sé Cathedral of Porto.
Long before the Romanesque church stood here, this spot was a fortified Celtic settlement, later becoming the Roman stronghold of Portus Cale.
From here, the city slowly expanded: first toward the river, then upward across the surrounding hills.
Porto did not grow in straight lines, but in layers, shaped by the rugged terrain that defines it.
When you stand at the Sé, you are not just visiting a church.
You are standing at Porto’s point of origin – at the very beginning of the city.
It all began here
Construction of the cathedral began back in the 12th century, at a time when Portugal was still taking shape as a kingdom. That’s why its original style is Romanesque — massive, heavy, almost fortress-like. The clean, simple lines of the interior vault still give a sense of solidity and quiet.
Its exterior isn’t exactly pretty, but it radiates strength. It feels as if it wasn’t built to impress, but to endure. And that’s what makes the Sé so different from many southern Portuguese cathedrals; it isn’t bright or lavish, but firm and carved from stone. (Although later in Lisbon we did find one that felt quite similar.)
From its courtyard, one of the finest views of Porto opens up before you. It’s the moment when everything clicks — you’ve already felt the city physically, in your legs and breath, climbing all those steps. Only then do you lift your eyes and truly see the city stretching out in front of you…
where you catch your breath
A baptism was taking place inside the church, a street musician on the square was singing Clapton’s Tears in Heaven and we sat down on the stone steps of the monument with everyone else, simply enjoying the moment.”
Dom Luís I Bridge – Two Paths, Two Perspectives
You could sit by Sé for hours, but sooner or later the view of the bridge and all the life happening down by the river will lure you to your feet. From the cathedral’s courtyard, you slowly descend through steep, narrow streets. Eventually, the stone alleys give way to a wide riverside promenade, full of restaurants, cafés, and even more tourists — the very reason you’re here too.
Soon enough, there’s nothing to do but sit down again and admire the bridge once more — the same one you admired from above at Sé, only now you see it in all its true grandeur.
“Eiffel, but make it horizontal“
Dom Luís I Bridge is one of Porto’s most iconic symbols — architecturally and in spirit.
It was designed by Teófilo Seyrig, a former student of Gustave Eiffel, which becomes obvious at first glance: the massive iron arch, the precision of the structure, and the overall feel that makes the bridge both technical and elegant.
Completed in 1886, it has two levels: the upper deck is used by pedestrians and the metro, while the lower deck connects the riverside Ribeira with the neighbouring city of Vila Nova de Gaia, home to the world-famous port wine cellars.
Miradouro Serra do Pilar — a View That Earns Itself
It makes far more sense to cross the bridge on the upper deck, because that path leads naturally toward the viewpoint of Miradouro Serra do Pilar. From up there, the whole of Porto opens in front of you.
But we were down below, where the view opened… straight onto a hill.
We crossed the bridge on its lower level and soon realized we were among the few who didn’t quite think things through. For our “brilliant” choice, we rewarded ourselves with nearly a kilometer of uphill walking to the viewpoint — and everyone who reached the top was breathing hard… from joy.
No, honestly — it was worth it. Every single step. Below you, the river Douro winds like a snake, Ribeira swallows new tourists one after another, you see narrow alleys, red rooftops, Sé and the bridge, and somewhere far off in the haze the Atlantic must have been hiding…
It’s one of those moments when the city stops being just beautiful — it becomes a part of you.
Port Wine — the Story of a Fortified Wine
The story of Porto is, of course, also a story about wine. Port didn’t get its name from where the grapes grow, but from where the wine arrived. The grapes ripen far inland, in the Douro Valley, and the wine was once transported down the river in barrels on wooden boats called rabelos.
The journey was long, full of dangerous rapids, and the heat — combined with all the shaking and rolling — often began to change the wine’s flavor.
So during fermentation they added a bit of grape spirit, which stopped the fermentation, leaving some of the natural sugar in the wine. That’s how port wine was born — sweet, aromatic, and strong enough to “survive” the rough journey down the river.
When the boats reached the city, the wine wasn’t stored on the Porto side of the river, in Ribeira, but across the water in Vila Nova de Gaia, where conditions were perfect for slow aging in barrels.
Ribeira became the main port for exporting the wine. Here, the barrels were pumped out, arranged, marked, and prepared for the journey that would present Porto’s wine to the world.
saúde!
a cardiac-level sandwich
Francesinha — more than just a sandwich
We dashed over the bridge under the metro line, escaping the first drops of rain and hiding under the awning of a small restaurant.
Before the trip, I had watched a few YouTube videos about local food, and the Francesinha instantly caught my eye — at first glance it looked like a perfectly legitimate sandwich.
So now it was time to finally order this “little French lady.”First impression: a sandwich on steroids.
Because somehow, between two slices of bread, they managed to squeeze beef, ham, and something that looked suspiciously like sausage. Then they drowned the whole thing in melted cheese and a spicy sauce. And as if someone worried this still wouldn’t be enough, they topped it with a fried egg and served it with a pile of fries.
All that with the clear intention of rounding the calorie count to a neat 1500.
Thankfully, that uphill climb earlier probably saved my arteries.
The girls, of course, ordered something far more sensible.
Livraria Lello — a myth that lives a life of its own
To understand our next stop, we need to put things into the right context.
Ever since she was little, Nara has been a huge Harry Potter fan. It began with plush owls and magic wands, continued with LEGO castles, and then came the books. By second grade she had already read the first one — The Philosopher’s Stone. Since then, Harry has travelled with us on every trip — if nothing else, as a book tucked in her backpack.
So our journeys are often shaped, at least a little, by the young wizard from Hogwarts, and Porto was no exception.
Harry wasn’t there
pilgrims at the selfie shrine
When I was planning my visit to Porto, Livraria Lello — one of the most visited bookstores in the world — naturally made it onto my must-see list.
Why? The myth that J. K. Rowling supposedly found inspiration for some Harry Potter scenes right here.
At the heart of the bookstore are its spectacular winding stairs and the large stained-glass ceiling above them — but honestly, that’s about it.
The shop is small, packed, and rather chaotic, and most visitors are there mainly for that “perfect” selfie.
Rowling later said that during the time she lived in Porto, she never even set foot in Lello.
But myths have their own power — and Lello has become a pilgrimage site for anyone who has ever opened a Harry Potter book.
If you ask me, it’s pure tourist bait, and you can safely skip it.
Still, it wasn’t all bad — Nara found the book she had been looking for, and that’s what truly matters.
Clérigos — The Light That Ends the Day
The day was slowly coming to an end, the city lights were starting to flicker on, and the line in front of the bookstore was even longer than before. But after roughly 20,000 steps, one final act still awaited us.
Torre dos Clérigos — the baroque church that feels like the more elegant, brighter sibling of the austere Sé Cathedral — rises above the city with its 75-meter tower, visible from almost everywhere we had walked that day.
In recent years, the church has also hosted an evening light performance, a semi-surreal projection that completely pulls you in. The burst of colors and light left us speechless.
With our necks aching from looking up, we hurried back past Capela das Almas to our Portuguese home, racing the approaching storm.
On the third day of our journey, we left Porto and headed south. A morning train ride, a stop in Coimbra, and our arrival in Nazaré divided the day into three chapters, each with its own rhythm. From the buzz of the city to the waves of the ocean.
Departure – goodbye Porto
Today a shift to the south was waiting for us, so we got up early to pack. In nine days we would be sleeping in three different locations, so we decided to travel with backpacks. Carrying everything on our backs is definitely more practical and far easier than dragging suitcases around. Especially when you realise that Portuguese cities are anything but flat.
The metro stop close to our accommodation saved us from a wet start to the day, since it was still raining. At Campanhã railway station we caught our train. I had bought the tickets about a month earlier, since they are more than half cheaper and also allow you to reserve seats. Good thing too, because I hadn’t seen so many people on a platform on a Saturday morning in a long time.
moving on
everything we have, we carry with us
The Train Ride
As you leave Porto by train, the outskirts slowly give way to a wide plain, where the tracks almost touch the Atlantic for a moment. Eucalyptus plantations dominate the landscape, dotted with patches of pine forest. On the higher ground you can even spot a vineyard or two.
After about half an hour on the train, the landscape turns into a network of lagoons, canals and marshes. Because of all these waterways, Aveiro is often called the Portuguese Venice, except that there are no gondolas gliding through the canals — instead, there are larger, brightly painted boats called moliceiros, which were originally used to transport seaweed. We didn’t see much of them from the train window, though, because the rain was coming down in sheets.
Why a stop in Coimbra?
The train doesn’t stop anywhere near our final destination, so I planned a break in Coimbra, since we would have had to switch to a bus anyway. Why Coimbra? Well, here the little magician in me stepped in again. This is one of the oldest continuously operating universities in Europe, founded back in 1290. For a long time, as the country’s only university, it shaped the Portuguese elite.
The university complex stands on top of a hill — nothing in this part of Portugal is ever really “flat”. The symbolism is clear: knowledge is something you have to climb towards. As for us… we climbed it by taxi.
Hogwarts in the Making
Which brings us to the real reason we came to Coimbra: Harry Potter.
Students wear traditional black uniforms with flowing capes — the very look that inspired the wizarding robes in Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling herself confirmed it.
with wizards
A Library with Special Protection
There’s something truly unique here — the Biblioteca Joanina, an 18th-century baroque library built as a self-contained microclimatic space. Its walls are incredibly thick, its wood is a special type, and the windows let in very little light. All of it designed to protect the paper and book bindings from humidity. Photography is forbidden, so I’ll try to paint it with words instead.
After climbing steep steps with a 20-kilogram backpack, you enter a room that holds around 70,000 books, manuscripts and maps. The space is smaller than you’d imagine and rises high — eight to ten meters — just enough for three levels of beautifully carved shelves, accessible through hidden doors.
And then there’s the library’s own “night watch”: a permanent colony of bats, Miniopterus schreibersii, who feed on insects and have been acting as a natural protective system for centuries.
bat protection
It really is just like the saying goes: you arrive as a visitor, but you leave as someone who’s taken a piece of this place with you…
Towards the Atlantic
We took a taxi down the hill to catch the 1:30 p.m. bus that was supposed to take us all the way to the ocean. The hills soon give way to gentler terrain, olive groves start appearing, and here and there even a vineyard. The bus passes through Leiro, a place that at first glance doesn’t promise much. Just a town like any other — shops, apartment blocks, a small factory — and then, between the facades, you suddenly glimpse a hilltop with something on it. But you can’t quite make it out.
When the view finally opens up, you realise that you’ve been riding beneath a castle the whole time — and it looks truly impressive. I later read that the whole area used to be known for vast pine forests. It was from here that Portugal sourced the timber for its ships during the era of discoveries and conquests. Definitely worth a stop some other time!
The ocean isn’t far now. You step off the bus, grab a coffee and a sort-of chocolate pastry, load up your backpack again, and quickly check Google Maps to see where you’re supposed to go.
And here’s where we messed up. Or Google did. Or probably both. We ended up walking almost half the coast before we found the right path to our accommodation. But honestly, it wasn’t exactly suffering. Quite the opposite.
First came that unmistakable Portuguese wavy pavement we’d already walked on in Porto… as if it went on forever.
Then, on the right, a vast, wide beach, reminiscent of Copacabana – but empty, and because of that, even more beautiful. Truly. Pure suffering.”
waves on land
a beach that wins you over
Transit Home No. 2
This was honestly one of the nicest places I’ve booked through Booking in the past few years. I’m pretty sure the little balcony with its ocean view had something to do with it — the kind of spot where the photo basically takes itself.
the little balcony
Port Wine and a Walk into the Dark
Over dinner we tried some port wine — similar in aroma to blueberry liqueur, sweet in taste, but smoother to drink. Here they served it as an aperitif. As we’d already noticed in Porto, it’s quite a bit stronger and usually closer to 20%.
Of course we couldn’t resist ending the day with a walk along the beach. The only lights are by the road, while the beach itself is nearly 200 meters wide, so once you’re in the middle, you’re standing in complete darkness. And when you finally reach the end and hear the waves you can’t see, it becomes a little eerie — and somehow even more magical.
The City of Waves
Nazaré is famous for having the biggest waves in the world. Not on the side we were on, though — those are on the northern side.
If that’s really true, we’ll find out tomorrow.
This morning we didn’t let anything disturb us. We finally managed to sleep properly for the first time since we landed. A slow wake-up, with one dominant thought: a strong black coffee. Yes — and then you sit out on that little balcony, looking at the ocean and listening to the seagulls screaming from the neighbouring roof. People are already walking along the beach, a few energetic ones are out for a run, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do first thing in the morning.
And you, barely awake, just stare at that cup of coffee in front of you, take a long sip, look towards the sea, see the waves, see the lighthouse on the cliff. Nara and Nia are having breakfast, Anja joins with her own coffee. A moment that stays with you…
In Search of Waves
A high cliff separates the two beaches, and on its edge stands a lighthouse — today’s goal. But first, we had to find a way up. Normally, the beach and Sítio (the upper part of town) are connected by a funicular, but it was temporarily closed due to additional safety inspections after the September accident in Lisbon.
Which was honestly completely fine, since this funicular was built by the same engineer as the one in Lisbon — and for that very reason we probably wouldn’t have ridden it anyway. The next best option was the bus.
Divine Intervention
The bus dropped us off right at the top, in front of the Santuário de Nossa Senhora da Nazaré.
According to the legend, a nobleman was hunting a deer here. Caught up in the chase, he followed it all the way to the edge of the cliff. Just before he and his horse were about to plunge a hundred metres down, a divine intervention is said to have saved him. It was the year 1182. To commemorate the event, a sanctuary was built on this very spot — the one we were now standing in front of.
Some came here chasing deer — unsuccessfully. We, on the other hand, caught the view.
And as I write this, I find myself wondering why it impressed me so much. The simplest explanation is probably the most likely one: because I had never seen anything even remotely like this before. I think the beach down there plays a big part as well.
at the edge of the cliff
Praia do Norte
Once we’d had our fill of the views, we continued towards the place where some of the biggest waves on the planet are born. As I understand it, the idea is this: beneath the northern shore of Nazaré runs an underwater canyon, about 170 kilometres long and around 5 kilometres deep. Inside the canyon, the wave picks up speed, rises, and just before reaching the coast, it shoots upward. As if the ocean were being pushed through a straw. And that’s how the giants of Nazaré come to life.
this is where the giants of Nazaré meet their end
A Veado — a Deer
But before you even reach the viewpoint, you have to stop at the Veado. It’s a statue with a human body and the head of a deer. The deer represents instinct, the human represents reason — which feels fitting for a place with waves that can cost you your life. Sometimes it’s instinct that brings you to the edge… and reason that pulls you back.
where past and present meet
The Fortress That Guards the Land
At the very tip of the headland stands the Forte de São Miguel Arcanjo, a fortress that once defended Nazaré from the Spanish, pirates and the English. Today, it shelters the surfboards of those who’ve survived their battles with the giants. The world record belongs to a German surfer — 26.21 meters. The season runs roughly from October to May, so we were a bit early.
the boards that survived the giants
Today, there was no chance of a record — the waves were much more like small, around 2.5 metres. Still… you have to climb to the top of the fort, step right to the edge and look down, to where the canyon ends. The ocean crashes against the rocks directly beneath you, and it’s anything but harmless. Hard to imagine what it must be like when everything is multiplied by ten. Hats off to them — they’re either incredibly good or completely mad.
5,000 m above the underwater canyon
When the giants of Nazaré show up, this is what it looks like:
Fate and Ice Cream
From the cliff, a wide and beautiful path leads down to the beach on “our” side. Just as we were deciding what to do, a bus rolled by, and fate kindly pointed us in the right direction. And since our choice turned out to be perfect, we rewarded ourselves on the promenade with the biggest ice cream ever.
there was so much of it, we could barely finish it
Sunset: ending the day in style
We spent the afternoon exactly the way you’re supposed to — relaxed, by the ocean. For such a huge beach, there were surprisingly few people: a walker here and there, a couple of families and a few lifeguards. The waves weren’t particularly big, but if the sea pulled you in, you’d have quite a hard time getting back. The shore here is pretty steep.
The Atlantic is ours
The day slowly slipped into evening, and the sun began to sink into the ocean. And once again, all you can do is watch… and enjoy.
a scene straight out of Baywatch
Tomorrow we move on, but anyone who’s been here knows that Nazaré stays with you forever.
Our bedroom window looked straight out to the sea, so instead of the annoying Samsung alarm, it was the waves that woke us up. And honestly, that alone makes the day better.
Then came coffee — black, strong — on the little balcony, with seagulls causing chaos above us as they searched for lift, and with a view of the lighthouse where we’d stood just yesterday, watching the ocean show its strength.
Today was moving day again, so we packed our backpacks once more and headed for the station. Nazaré will stay with us. Those coffees came dangerously close to perfection, the beach was unbelievably huge and beautiful, and just listening to the waves… pure calm. One day, we’ll be back.
1,097,679 Eucalyptus Trees
The bus was running late. And once again, it was full. It really does make sense to buy tickets in advance — not so much for the price as for the seat reservation. For the 120-kilometre ride to the capital, the bus takes just under two hours. You travel along the A8 motorway, which cuts through flat countryside dominated by pine and eucalyptus forests.
Eucalyptus Everywhere
There’s really an enormous amount of it here, so I went to look into it. It was imported from Australia as an ornamental tree sometime in the 19th century, and then expanded massively in the mid-20th century because of the needs of the paper and pulp industry. Today, it’s a business worth almost 6 billion.
The tree grows quickly, which is a positive, but the downside is that it consumes a lot of water — and when it burns, it really burns. Fires are common, and 2017 was devastating. The push to plant more “fire-friendly” native trees, like chestnut and oak, is growing and in some places already happening, but the paper industry lobby remains strong.
burning Australians
A Castle as a Wedding Gift
After staring at countless “burning Australians”, you suddenly snap back to life when a massive stone wall appears in front of you. You’ve arrived in Óbidos, a town with a rather charming twist. About a thousand years ago, the king at the time gave this place to his queen as a wedding gift. From then on, it became tradition — and the town became… the City of Queens.
Today it’s one of the best-preserved medieval towns in Portugal and a place known for its excellent cherry liqueur. I tasted neither — not the town of queens nor the liqueur — because by the time I read that, the bus had already driven past. A shame I didn’t plan it as a stop on today’s route.
Wind Turbines and Brave Birds
We’re on the Atlantic coast, and there’s no shortage of wind. On the top of every hill stands a wind turbine, catching the Atlantic breath more than successfully. This renewable source now covers almost a third of the country’s electricity needs. There are plenty of them, yet they don’t disturb the landscape nearly as much as you’d expect.
bird killers
Back home in Slovenia, the long-standing argument against building wind turbines was that Slovenian birds would supposedly fly into them and meet a feathery end. Portuguese birds, however, seem to have no shortage of courage or boldness — happily sharing their living space with these three-bladed giants.
Arrival in Lisbon
The drive through the suburbs doesn’t promise much – just like in probably any other suburb in the world.
The city has around 700,000 inhabitants, while the country has just over 10 million. I didn’t know, however, that after Athens, Lisbon is the oldest capital in Europe. As early as around 1000 BC, people settled the hill where São Jorge Castle still stands today, which we also plan to visit. It became the capital a good two millennia later, when it was moved from Coimbra.
So many millennia of history, and yet after barely a hundred kilometres on the road we stepped off the bus and, with wide-open eyes, were looking for just one thing — coffee. And of course, we found it soon enough.
What About the Prices?
Most things are cheaper here. You especially notice it in the supermarkets. We almost always book accommodation without breakfast, because paying four times €15 every day just doesn’t make sense — it’s like buying that infamous Swiss sandwich. Booking really doesn’t handle this well. So we just shop at the store, and in apartments there’s always some sort of makeshift little kitchen anyway.
Metro
The metro here is simple: four colours, four lines. In Porto there were, I think, even fewer. And you need a separate card for each city. A ride costs €1.85 here in Lisbon; we topped ours up right away. It’s even a bit cheaper than in Porto, but above all far more convenient. The card works for everything: metro, bus, tram, the ferry across the river — even for the train when we went to Sintra.
The Early Check-In Was Late
Once again, we were looking for something that isn’t right in the centre, but just beside it. The Arroios neighbourhood fits that perfectly. It’s known for its multicultural mix — you’ll find everything here: Portuguese, Indian, Bangladeshi, Syrian and African food.
Of course, for us this makes absolutely no difference — with two kids, the culinary level inevitably drops to chicken, pizza and pasta. I had paid for early check-in, but someone before us clearly had a long night and left the apartment late, so we had to wait about an hour for it to be cleaned.
What on Earth Is an Estuary?
After a bit of rest — these relocations tire you out whether you like it or not — we found the metro and headed to the eastern part of the city, where the Oceanarium was supposed to be. But before you get there, you’re in for a 15-minute walk downhill, which is great. It’s just not quite as great when, after the visit, you have to walk the same way back up.
What looks like the sea in the background… isn’t. It’s still the Tagus River, the longest river on the Iberian Peninsula, which forms an estuary right here by Lisbon. And because my primary-school geography is a bit blurry by now, I had to rely on Wikipedia for help.
An estuary is the part where a river meets the ocean, where fresh and salt water mix, and where strong tides are typical. This one here isn’t supposed to be the largest in Europe, but it is among the widest.
The Port That Discovered the World
From here, in the 15th and 16th centuries, some of the most important expeditions in history set sail, connecting Europe with Africa, India, Brazil, China and even Japan. Across the estuary stretches a 17-kilometre bridge, named after the most famous of them all — Vasco da Gama.
He discovered India — and got a bridge named after him.
During our four-day wander around the city, I expected to find more monuments dedicated to the great explorers, but we didn’t come across any. I later read that they decided to honour the Age of Discoveries with one single, unified monument in the Belém district.
Magellan was Portuguese as well, but since he didn’t feel properly appreciated, he left and went to the Spanish — and later sailed around the world for them.
And that’s how the Portuguese, out of wounded pride, ended up losing the world
The World Ocean
This morning we woke up by the mighty Atlantic Ocean, and in the afternoon we were walking along the longest river on the Iberian Peninsula, so it felt fitting to end the day at the oceanarium. After being second in the ranking of the oldest capitals and failing to claim the pedestal for the largest estuary, they unfortunately didn’t manage to be the biggest this time either — they’re the fifth largest in Europe.
But they did succeed at something else: the main tank, with its 5 million litres of water, contains around 500 different species from all three of the world’s oceans. The idea of a global ocean, where everything is connected, fits perfectly with the themes of Expo ’98, during which the Oceanarium was built — on an artificial island.
A river outside, a world ocean inside
Mola Mola and the Sea Dragon
You basically walk around the main tank across several floors, and every now and then you come to a spot with a huge glass wall where you can watch the whole swimming crew go by. The usual sharks, rays and schools of fish — but one stands out: the ocean sunfish (Mola mola). It’s that flat, tailless fish with fins stuck onto the end of its body, looking as if it had dropped straight in from outer space.
Just as we were about to finish our visit, we walked past an aquarium in which, from a distance, I thought there was only a single piece of seaweed. But when you get closer, you realize these are animals found only along the southern coast of Australia. You find yourself face to face with a miniature dragon straight out of a movie. It’s the leafy seadragon, a master of camouflage, voted Australians’ favourite fish — a status that places it alongside koalas and kangaroos.
And that was that — just the completely unnecessary climb back up to the metro, dinner, and off to bed.
Morning. Dark. Overcast. It felt like it was about to start pouring any moment. The air carried that familiar scent of dampness and the sea. Hoping the rain would spare us for a little while longer, we took the metro toward the first sight of the day — straight into the heart of the city.
People, as everywhere at that hour, were rushing off to work; others were heading out for their daily routines, while we treated ourselves to a second morning coffee. When you travel, you lose track of what day it is — whether it’s a weekday or the weekend — it all blurs together and, most importantly, becomes completely irrelevant. Just one more of travel’s simple charms.
A Square No One Calls by Its Name
Dom Pedro IV Square is named after a king who ruled Portugal for just two months. His reign may have been short, but his impact was anything but — he was a key figure of Portuguese liberalism in the struggle against the absolutist ambitions of his brother.
Although he spent most of his life in Brazil as an emperor, he is honored with numerous monuments across Portugal, including one right here in the capital beneath the castle. He has one in Porto as well — standing right next to a McDonald’s, perhaps standing at a symbolic crossroads of liberal capitalism.
A King for Two Months
But everyone knows this square simply as Rossio — a name that comes from a medieval word for an open, public space in a town. Today, Rossio is a lively transport hub from which routes branch out across Lisbon and further across Portugal.
A Castle Stands 110 Meters Above the River
It is named after Saint George, one of the most important Christian saints and patrons. The name was given by a Portuguese king upon his marriage to an English princess, further strengthening the alliance between the two countries — considered the oldest still-active alliance in the world.
You can reach the castle on foot or by the always-packed tram No. 28 — that famous little yellow one. We chose the bus instead, which winds its way through steep, twisting, narrow streets and drops you off just a short walk from the entrance about 15 minutes later. We bought our tickets online in advance, and still, the line was pretty long.
Stone Upon Stone
When you step onto the flat plateau in front of the castle, it’s easy to imagine it once serving as a royal promenade. From here, you can see almost the entire city of Lisbon spread out beneath you. It quickly becomes clear why this very hill was chosen as the city’s main defensive stronghold. As we walked along the cannons on the ramparts, thunder crashed loudly overhead — a clear sign it was time to pick up the pace.
All of Lisbon Lies Beneath You
The climb up onto the ramparts takes you by surprise — you can’t help but wonder how something like this was ever conquered at all. And yet, clearly it was, since the castle changed hands many times throughout history.
If we missed something, I honestly don’t know, but aside from the impressive walls, there isn’t much else here: no rooms, no chambers, no displayed treasures.
Here is, however, one thing that makes the visit even more special — peacocks confidently strut along the ramparts and through the courtyards, like ancient guardians of this stone fortress above the city. Portugal seems to trust its guardians — bats in Coimbra, peacocks in Lisbon — each silently protecting a piece of its history.
The New-Age Guard
Quick Descent
To escape the rain, waiting for the bus was no longer an option. After all, going downhill is always easier. So we began our descent from the castle through narrow, stone-paved streets — the kind you don’t even want to think about how slippery they get when wet.
Soon we turned toward the Miradouro de Santa Luzia viewpoint — just a quick stop in true Japanese tourist style: a photo and off we go. And of course, the view was beautiful… and the terrace was packed with Japanese tourists.
Alfama
The City’s Guardian
Our path led us downhill to the oldest church in the city — the Sé Cathedral, which stands like a true guardian at the foot of the castle hill.
It immediately reminded us of the one in Porto: the same sense of seriousness and strength, and that unmistakable feeling of stepping into a building that has survived everything history has thrown at it. Which is no surprise, really, since both were built around the same period as Romanesque fortresses. Once, the main route to the castle passed right here; today, it’s an avenue of tuk-tuks that have taken over the city.
Standing in the middle of the street, I waited for the moment when I could capture that classic photo of a yellow tram rolling out from behind the bend and past the stone facade of the cathedral. But, of course, it never came — apparently it was stuck in a tuk-tuk traffic jam.
waiting for the perfect tram shot
noon at the cathedral
A Square Shaped by a Tsunami
By now, we were already down by the river, on Praça do Comércio. This is where the Ribeira Royal Palace once stood — for centuries the very heart of Portugal’s monarchy. In 1755, Lisbon was struck by a devastating earthquake, followed almost immediately by a tsunami that wiped the palace and half of the city off the face of the earth.
The palace was never rebuilt. Instead, a vast open square was designed as a symbol of a new Lisbon — a city turned toward trade, maritime power, and economic strength. Standing here today, looking out over the river, it’s easy to see the message they wanted to send: that after catastrophe, the nation was able to rise to its feet once again.
the square where Portugal rose again
The square was buzzing with people — the obligatory photo in front of the Lisboa sign, then a short walk down to the river, right to the spot where Queen Elizabeth II was once officially welcomed.
the place where the British queen was welcomed
And then it started: one drop, two drops, the hunt for umbrellas, three drops, hoods up — and off we went at full speed toward the Time Out Market.
It’s basically an “all-star stadium” of Portuguese cuisine. We had our sights set on octopus, bifanas, francesinha, and of course pastéis de nata. What we got instead was a crowd — then some more crowd — and then even more crowd. So we ended up in a Mexican restaurant just around the corner.
table for four — mission impossible
Mediterranean Climate
After an hour-long downpour, lunch, and drying our T-shirts under the hand dryers in the restroom, the rain finally stopped. Mediterranean climate in real life means rain in autumn — October is second only to November when it comes to the wettest months of the year, and this time we truly felt it firsthand.
Temperatures hovered around 20°C (about 68°F), confirming one of our main reasons for choosing this trip — a warmer kind of autumn.
In Lisbon, rain is simply part of everyday life. It comes fast, it goes fast, and you take it as it comes. No point in getting too worked up about it.
The New Lisbon Steps Into the Spotlight
We returned to Praça do Comércio, which began to fill with people again after the rain. Earlier we had been standing by the river — now we were on the northern side of the square, where the Arco da Rua Augusta rises before you, a triumphal arch standing like a stone stage set at the entrance to the city. This is the gateway to the “new” Lisbon, the one that rose from the ruins after the earthquake, tsunami, and fire.
The Street Where We Went Swimming
Passing under the arch, you enter Rua Augusta — the street that connects the river with Rossio Square. Somewhere halfway through, the rain returned once again — this time so heavy that even umbrellas were useless. Once we accepted that we were going to get soaked anyway, we practically swam past the Santa Justa Lift back to the square where we had started our morning.
Then it was off to the metro and back to the apartment. A few minutes later, my watch vibrated — it had automatically finished recording the activity: “pool swimming – 300 m.”
Well… that summed things up perfectly.
The second-to-last day of our trip was dedicated to a day out in Sintra – Cabo da Roca – Cascais, a perfect escape from Lisbon’s busy city atmosphere.
The morning clouds rolled in once again and the forecast wasn’t promising, but we stayed optimistic. At Rossio railway station, we caught the train and set off toward the fairytale town of Sintra, just over 30 kilometers away.
A 50-minute ride into a fairy tale
Geography Is Everything
When the Atlantic crashes into Europe, the landscape stays almost completely flat all the way to Lisbon. Almost.
Right here, out of nowhere, rises the Serra de Sintra — a mountain range that acts like a natural wall. Barely ten kilometers long, yet high enough to completely reshape the weather around it.
Winds from the ocean bring moist, cool air, and when it hits the mountains, it starts to rise. The air cools, the moisture condenses, and a thick mist settles into the forests of Sintra. Pleasant temperatures and this unique microclimate attracted kings centuries ago, who built their summer residence here. It was their “escape from Lisbon” long before the phrase even existed.
The municipality of Sintra is considered one of the wealthiest in Portugal, with a population slightly larger than Ljubljana. But what draws nearly two million visitors each year lies high above the town — because up here, as we’ve already discovered, nothing is ever at ground level.
Ferdinand the Romantic
Pena Palace sits at 500 meters above sea level, which means getting there by bus or taxi from the train station is more than recommended. If there’s ever a place where buying tickets in advance pays off, it’s here — and aim for the earliest slot, ideally the very first one at 09:30. Why? Because not even two hours later, all that’s left are long queues. And once you enter the gates, there’s still about a 15-minute uphill walk to reach the palace.
And then you see it — a palace straight out of a fairytale.
…and they lived happily ever after..
A bit red, a bit yellow, blue and grey — with clouds in the background like a theatre backdrop. A true manifestation of imagination. As if someone just made it up.
And someone did — a German. Ferdinand II was a German prince who married the Portuguese queen. He was a romantic. The Sorrows of Young Werther and all that.
Romanticism says that emotions matter more than reason. And how better to express that than by building a palace on top of a five-hundred-metre hill, constantly wrapped in mysterious Atlantic mist, and painting it in the brightest colours imaginable?
A royal visit — and a kitchen worthy of a Michelin star
The interior is a perfectly preserved world of the 19th-century Portuguese royal family: bedrooms, salons, dressing rooms, a dining hall and a chapel. Everything is arranged as if they never left.
So instead of feeling like you’re walking through a museum, it feels as though you’re visiting someone’s home — and that any moment now, they might serve dinner in that beautifully prepared grand dining room.
The path, where you slowly waddle along behind other tourists, leads you out onto the palace terrace. The fresh air and a bit more space instantly lift your mood.
The view from up here is lovely — one might even say, almost romantic.
A few more rooms and reception halls follow, and eventually you descend into the medieval kitchen — which was truly impressive: huge copper pots and perfectly preserved cooking tools that look as if someone might start using them again at any moment.
I could almost order a wild boar in here.
Step outside and you're met with a thousand tiny balconies, mini terraces and whimsical turrets — a photographer’s playground. The path to the exit was already filling with new visitors, so we wrapped up our tour of the palace.
Lost in the Jungle
When you try to continue, things get pretty confusing — signs point left and right, and the more you look at them, the less you know where you're supposed to go. We wanted to reach the Moorish Castle, which from the palace looked as if it were just around the corner. Well… it wasn’t. After wandering around for a while, we finally figured out that we first had to walk out of the park.
Then you follow a narrow forest path, and suddenly you realise you’re in the middle of a jungle. Ferns all around you, bamboo, something that looks like cypress trees, moss everywhere, and a small stream flowing on your left. As if someone had gathered plants from all over the world and planted them right here.
And that’s exactly what this German did — besides being a romantic, he was also a botanist. Around his fairytale palace he planted a true botanical garden. The microclimate here makes it possible, so it really feels like you're deep inside a jungle. You're half expecting something to jump out of the bushes at any moment.
Into the jungle
We stopped for a moment to admire this botanical mix when our old acquaintance returned — the rain. We had already descended far enough that going back up to the entrance was no longer an option, so we kept going.
We did eventually find the Moorish Castle, but the desire to explore it disappeared as the rain grew heavier. On this side, there was no trace of tourism or transport — only a few municipal workers fixing something. With a bit of Portuguese, some Spanish, broken English and universal hand gestures, we figured out that our only option was to head down the hill back toward town.
An hour later, after slippery stone steps and countless encounters with other lost tourists, we finally reached the first houses. I no longer remember whether it was Nara or Nia who said it, when I was grumbling about the rain and the signposts:
“Dad… this is part of traveling, too.”
And they were right! Sometimes things don’t go according to plan — and those are often the moments you remember even more than the “pretty” ones. We grown-ups tend to overthink everything. Kids, on the other hand, have an incredible ability to simply accept the moment as it is.
As we continued along the stone wall, we came across a sign saying that Hans Christian Andersen had lived here for a while. The greatest storyteller in the world lived beneath the most fairytale-like castle on earth — something we would never have discovered had we not gotten lost.
Once upon a time, there lived…
The End of the Fairytale
When we finally stepped back into civilization, I stopped a taxi right in the middle of the road. A police car was right behind him, but I think they're used to tourists who simply fall out of the forest onto the street.
We took a short break in town, enjoyed a coffee and a fresh juice, and then continued.
Just as the paths on the hilltop had been confusing, the bus timetable and stops were equally chaotic. But we figured it out — this time thanks to Anja. It was 1 p.m. when we boarded a small bus and began our journey toward the end of Europe.
The only annoying part? The bus stopped at every possible stop, so after half an hour we were still in the same town.
From the bus window I could see that Sintra offers far more than just Pena Palace and the Moorish Castle. Along the way were several beautifully maintained villas and churches. And soon after, the flat landscape returned — the same plain over which the Atlantic winds charge before rising to create Sintra’s misty magic.
Those magical mists will remain fairytale-like for us today, because they apparently forgot to appear.
Then came a right turn — and in the distance, you spot that red lighthouse.
Where the Land Ends and the Sea Begins
Cabo da Roca is the westernmost point of mainland Europe. You stand 140 meters above the Atlantic, which crashes against the rocks below. The wind never stops.
It may not be as dramatic as the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland or Los Gigantes in Tenerife, but there is a very special feeling when you’re standing at the edge of a continent.
We simply had to get the official certificate — something to hang on the wall as a reminder that we once stood at the very end of Europe.
An hour is more than enough for the views and a short walk. There was a restaurant up there, but it was closed — so the coffee at the end of the world would have to wait…
There is only one bus that runs the Sintra – Cabo da Roca – Cascais route. To avoid going back the same way, we continued south.
The Place Where We Met Ronaldo
Cascais is a classic seaside town, with beaches tucked between houses and cliffs. We were already a bit tired from the long day, so we stopped for lunch. This is also where I had the most expensive beer of the entire trip — €5.5.
Then came a walk along those familiar wave-patterned pavements that have followed us all the way from Porto to the train station.
Somewhere along the way, we finally found him — standing there in his iconic pose.
Since he didn’t have much to say, I simply asked them to wrap him up to go.
The evening before, we met up with some friends at Rossio Square. We were coming from a full day of sightseeing, while they were heading to a Benfica match, where the team had comfortably beaten Tondela 3–0. Running into familiar faces on the other side of Europe, when you’re already caught up in travel mode, always feels easy and relaxed – exactly as it should.
The next morning was therefore long and slow, and no one was particularly eager to get out of bed. There was no need to rush anyway, as the last day had been planned from the start at a leisurely pace. After all the buses, trains, metros and taxis, today it was time for a boat.
Across the Famous Tagus Estuary
The ferries depart from Cais do Sodré, right next to the metro station, so getting there is completely straightforward. The best part is that you can use the same card for crossing the river as you do for the metro – the Viva Viagem card.
The boats are surprisingly spacious for such a short journey, as the ride to Cacilhas takes just under ten minutes. Unfortunately, there isn’t much of a view, since the windows are hopelessly dirty, so instead of the river you mostly end up staring at your own blurred reflection.
Still, I managed to snap a quick photo just as the doors were closing and catch a fleeting glimpse of the bridge.
at the very last moment
Otherwise, as you cross the river, somewhere behind the windows a reddish, blurred outline of the 25 de Abril Bridge reflects back at you, one of Lisbon’s most recognizable symbols. Through those windows, however, that very symbol felt oddly unrecognizable.
Bus or Taxi – That Is the Question
When you arrive, you land straight at a bus stop from which you’re supposedly meant to continue on to the sights on this side of the river. The bus was nowhere to be seen, and after more than twenty minutes we were approached by “taxi drivers” — guys who can arrange everything: transport, tickets, and even a bit of personal guiding. For an appropriate price, of course.
It was the same in Sintra, where being invited so eagerly immediately raises suspicion. A real taxi driver waits in his car. This, however, was probably the only bus stop in the world where I didn’t see a single official taxi, so waiting was really the only option left.
f nothing else, at least the waiting came with a pleasant view of Lisbon and the Vasco da Gama Bridge.
one of the most beautiful views of Lisbon
the bridge across the estuary, now that we finally know what it is
Cristo Rei
One would expect that the only major attraction on this side of the river would be better served when it comes to transport connections. That unfortunate bus arrived with more than an hour’s delay, and even then it felt more like an excuse for a bus than an actual service. A bus stop packed with tourists was clearly too much of a challenge for it, though we were lucky enough that it stopped exactly where we were standing.
The statue of Jesus Christ, of course, stands on a hill, so walking there from the ferry terminal is not something I would recommend. It was built by the Catholic Church as a gesture of gratitude that the country was not directly involved in the horrors of the world war.
The path to the viewing platform at 82 meters leads past the ticket office, where a sign informed us that the waiting time to go up was more than an hour — which, at that moment, was precisely an hour too long. So we settled for the free viewing platform at ground level.
Confusing Views Above Lisbon
Here on the ground-level viewing platform, the views are somewhat confusing. In front of you stands Jesus Christ himself, uncannily reminiscent of the statue in Rio de Janeiro, and if you turn around 180 degrees, you are met with a bridge that suspiciously resembles the Golden Gate in San Francisco.
You can’t help but wonder where you actually are.
You are, of course, in Europe, in Portugal, in Lisbon, at the Cristo Rei statue… hmm, not really – at least not in Lisbon. The statue stands in a place called Almada, which shares with Lisbon only a bridge and the fact that everyone refers to the statue as a “Lisbon” landmark. Perhaps this is where the poor transport connections come from.
The devil is in the details: this is not Rio, because here Jesus does not gaze over the city but embraces it with outstretched arms, as if protecting it. And it is not San Francisco either, even though the bridge is red; the only thing they truly share is the fact that they were designed by the same engineering team.
Let’s set this geographical illusion aside. It was lovely up here, but it was also time to head back. The only taxi driver who stood around there, clearly bored, simply shook his head when I asked whether he could take us across the bridge back to Lisbon. Apparently, the resentment runs deep — after all, they took Jesus from them… So there was nothing left to do but wait for that little yellow bus.
A 500-Year-Old Monastery for an American Burger
It’s true that the day before we had covered a much longer distance, both in kilometers and in time, but today’s crossing of the Tagus and that long wait for the bus had clearly worn us out.
After taking the ferry back to Lisbon, we were faced with that familiar dilemma that comes up at least once on every trip, especially when traveling with children. According to the plan, we were supposed to head to Belém, where the famous Jerónimos Monastery, the Belém Tower, the Monument to the Discoveries — whose name is nearly impossible to remember, Padrão dos Descobrimentos (how are you supposed to remember that?) — and, of course, the obligatory custard tarts from the legendary Pastéis de Belém await. But our heads had other ideas.
The craving leaned toward something simpler and more down-to-earth than lofty monasteries and symbolic monuments of discoveries made 500 years ago.
So we ended up in an American burger joint near Pink Street, that pink-paved street covered with umbrellas and known for its many bars.
Apparently, when you’ve had enough of logistics, rides, sightseeing, and small frustrations caused by buses, a burger simply feels like the right answer. We did, however, forget to ask whether they knew Luka Dončić — after all, the place was called Dallas Burger Joint.
The sights of Belém will have to wait for our next visit to Portugal, when we won’t be quite so hungry for a hamburger.
Chasing Bubbles, Souvenirs and Family Happiness
After lunch, it was time for souvenir shopping, a business largely run by vendors from India or Pakistan.
And so, at one point in the historic heart of Lisbon’s old town, known as Baixa, the sounds of Hindi and unmistakable Slovenian dialects mingled inside a souvenir shop — all in the service of negotiating the optimal strategy for buying and selling tea coasters decorated with azulejo patterns.
In the end, the deal was sealed in English, to the satisfaction of both parties involved.
The sun shyly peeked out from behind the clouds once again, and since we had negotiated like true professionals, it felt only right to stop at Praça do Comércio — the Commerce Square.
Nara and Nia happily chased soap bubbles as they floated above the square.
chasing bubbles
As we watched the scene unfold, we were able to quietly acknowledge, with contentment, that we were bringing another journey to a full and beautiful close — in the way that matters most to us: together.
The Last Morning in Lisbon and a Bit of Tactical Packing
Our flight wasn’t until the afternoon, so there was no need for early alarms or rushing around. The morning unfolded slowly, just the way we like it at the end of a long journey.
When it comes to packing, we always gain a bit of extra space by bringing along a few well-worn clothes and leaving them behind without regret. Fashion trends don’t really travel with us. Somehow, I still managed to squeeze all the little gifts for family, friends, and Nia’s and Nara’s classmates into our already overstuffed backpacks. Around here, it’s simply tradition that everyone gets a small souvenir.
A Special Category
Today, in the age of SMS, instant messages, and endless social media apps, it feels as if we’ve almost forgotten a ritual that once accompanied every journey: sending postcards.
Back home, in a house tucked away in the Primorska region at my father-in-law’s place, an entire wall is covered with postcards from our travels so far. From Helsinki and Rovaniemi to Ireland, Tenerife, Paris, Seville, Washington, New York, and now Portugal.
The second person to receive our postcards is our friend Lucas from Denver, Colorado. Igor met him more than fifteen years ago while traveling through South America, and they’ve stayed in touch ever since.
What we share is a deep love for travel, which is why finding a postcard in the mailbox is always a nostalgic journey in itself. Especially for someone like Lucas, who has already traveled the world.
He has visited Slovenia twice as well, most recently with his family. Maybe they’ll come again one day. Or perhaps it’s slowly becoming our turn to go there.
Considering that a postcard from Lisbon took over a month to reach Slovenia, it’s fair to expect that Lucas will receive his sometime next May…
Mysterious Rashes
Before leaving, we took one last look around every corner of the room. I paid especially close attention to Nia’s legs.
On Tuesday, after a 300-meter swim in the pool, rashes appeared on her thighs. We applied Bepanderm from our travel first-aid kit every day. For two days, things seemed to calm down nicely, but on the final evening, just in time for the holiday, it flared up again.
Of course, why would anything be simple when it can be just a little dramatic? There was no chance of contacting our chosen pediatrician, “Dr. House.”
In short, I found our savior in my contacts list. I sent photos to our friend Nika, a pharmacist, who reassured me that the rashes would most likely disappear just as suddenly as they had appeared.
I felt relieved… well, almost. If you’re a mom, you know exactly what it means to be almost relieved.
Heading to Lisbon Airport
We took the metro to the airport. This time, I felt so confident that even I, someone who needs a few seconds to tell left from right, would have found the way without any trouble. Miracles do happen.
Igor mentioned that he had seen several TikTok videos claiming Lisbon Airport was confusing and poorly organized. A taxi driver in Porto had warned us about the same thing. Because of that, we arrived a full three hours early.
As it turned out, all those warnings were completely overblown. An airport like any other, nothing particularly dramatic. Departures and arrivals were displayed everywhere, signage was clear, and it was easy to know where to go. For families, the security check was especially well organized, with a dedicated lane. Friendly staff, no issues at all. Perhaps the criticism applies more to non-EU flights.
Windy Was Showing Red
Then something else became problematic. Something beyond our control. Looking through the airport’s huge windows, we were met with powerful winds. In my mind, a familiar scenario was already forming, another turbulent flight.As if the wind wasn’t enough, heavy rain soon followed.
Igor’s Windy app showed a red storm cell right above us. Apparently, after sparing us in Porto, the weather had decided to act differently this time. Our incoming aircraft from Zurich was already delayed because of it, so our return flight didn’t stand much of a chance either.
Still, we made our way toward the departure gate…
Parlez-vous français ?
While we were waiting, a small mishap like this helped pass the time.
In the waiting area, we tried to communicate with a French woman who spoke only French. The only one of us who speaks even a little French is Igor, and of course, he was standing in line.
Somehow, through gestures and pantomime, we managed to understand what it was all about. The woman was asking us to watch her luggage while she urgently needed to use the restroom. How exactly she communicated that is best left to the imagination. Let’s just say she could have easily landed a leading role in a silent film.
No Turbulence and No Sandwich in Switzerland
We finally boarded with a one-hour delay, but it didn’t worry us. We still had several hours to wait in Zurich before our flight home, so in the end, the delay was actually welcome.
Throughout the flight, I kept waiting for announcements about turbulence, but none ever came. In Zurich, everything went smoothly, and this time we had our snacks with us.
We landed at Brnik around 11:30 p.m., at a time when most people are already asleep. Meanwhile, we were hurrying through the airport with that familiar look on our faces: “Well, now we’re really home…”
But one more stop was still waiting for us…
An After-Hours Medical Clinic Visit
Since I’m a bit of a “health worrier” when it comes to my children, we drove straight from the airport to the after-hours medical clinic.
Nia’s rashes had spread quite a bit by then. Red patches everywhere, alarming to look at, but without any itching or fever. Given the holiday weekend, our midnight stop felt like a sensible decision.
The on-call doctor couldn’t explain the cause, but said the rashes would most likely disappear on their own. Reassured, some of us more than others. Me a little less, Igor and the girls quite a bit more. Already thoroughly exhausted, we finally headed home.
All that was left was a shower, brushing our teeth, fresh pajamas, and our own bed.
As for me, there was still coffee and a glass of Cedevita. Yes, yes. The time of day doesn’t really matter to me. I end a journey the same way I begin it. Everyone has their own rituals.
All’s Well That Ends Well
And so our Portuguese journey came to an end. With a bit of delay, a touch of drama, wind, heavy rain, rashes, and airport pantomime. In short, completely our style.
If there isn’t at least one small adventure, then it simply isn’t us. We came home with a suitcase full of memories, even more photos, great stories, and special moments.
…in medtem ko se komaj vračamo v naš vsakdan, jaz že gledam naprej ter Igorju pošiljam print screene novih letov….
✍️ Written by Igor
Short Trip Summary
Do you need a car in Portugal?
We relied entirely on public transport, which is straightforward in both Porto and Lisbon. Connections between cities are well organized. I’d only recommend buying tickets in advance, partly for better prices, but mainly to secure seat reservations.
The two main providers are CP (Comboios de Portugal) for trains and Rede Expressos for buses.
Now, at the end of the trip, I can honestly say that we never felt the need for a car. Neither we nor the children. All our travel legs were under two hours, which made everything very manageable.
Porto
Porto is a wonderful city with a lot to offer. Thanks to the good location of our accommodation, we were able to see the main sights in a single day.
If Porto had been planned as a day trip from Lisbon, it would have been exhausting even for an adult, let alone for a child. Besides, I don’t think you really get a feel for a city that way. Personally, I liked it even more than Lisbon.
If the goal is simply to explore the city, get lost among the azulejos, and enjoy views of the river below, one day is enough. If you want to travel upriver, though, you’ll need an extra day or two. There is some uphill walking, but nothing too demanding. And even if you end up, like we did, on the lower level of the bridge, there’s always the funicular to take you back up.
I do have to say that the views were beautiful both down by the river and from the viewpoint above, each in its own way. Below, because of the bridge, where you can see the entire structure, and above, because of the view of the colorful house facades with red rooftops and the winding Douro River.
It makes sense to buy tickets in advance for Livraria Lello and the Clérigos light show, to avoid unnecessary waiting in line and to make sure you get a seat in the church.
Aveiro, Coimbra, and Leiria
Coimbra was our stop on the way to the Atlantic. Even before reaching it, the train passes through Aveiro, known as the Portuguese Venice. If it hadn’t been raining so heavily, we would have gladly stopped for a coffee by the canal.
The train stops at Coimbra-B station, which is outside the city, so a taxi is needed.
We first headed to the bus station, where we had a later departure, to store our backpacks. I had read on the university’s website that entry with large backpacks is not allowed. There were lockers available at the station, but using them required downloading an app.
The university is located at the top of a hill, so once again we took a taxi. No one made an issue about the backpacks, but carrying them up all those steps was a bit awkward. Suitcases would be out of the question.
One possible stop along the way would also have been the town of Leiria with its castle, but we were in a hurry to continue onward.
Nazaré
This is the place I would definitely recommend including in your Portugal itinerary. Whether it’s the vast beach, the waves, the view from the cliffs, or simply the fact that everything is within a single kilometer.
On the last day of every trip, we always have the same ritual at breakfast. Each of us shares what we liked most. This time, for the first time on all our travels, the answer was the same: the beach in Nazaré.
If I were planning the trip again, I would take one day away from Lisbon and add it here.
Obidos
This town as well, which Portuguese kings once gave to their brides as a wedding gift, would definitely be on my list for a future trip to Portugal as a stop of a few hours. The city walls looked absolutely fantastic from the road.
Lisbon
The city is well connected by metro, so it makes sense to plan your accommodation near one of the stations. In Lisbon, we used the Viva Viagem card, which you top up with credit for multiple rides, and it turned out to be the simplest option. Each person needs their own card, including children.
Everything can be explored on foot, except perhaps the route to the entrance of São Jorge Castle, where taking a bus from Rossio is a good idea to avoid getting tired too quickly. There was once again a queue at the entrance, so buying tickets in advance is recommended. The walk back down is pleasant, except when it rains and the cobblestones become slippery.
Cristo Rei, yes or no?
The trip across the river to Cristo Rei is straightforward. The ferry accepts the Viva Viagem card, so there are no complications, but getting there by bus is a different story.
The view is phenomenal. My only regret is that we didn’t go up to the upper platform. The main challenge is getting back to Lisbon. We wanted to cross the 25 de Abril Bridge, but that wasn’t possible.
So we returned the same way we came, which took up the entire morning. As a result, we skipped the Belém area, simply because we no longer had the energy.
Sintra
The journey from Lisbon to Sintra is just as straightforward. From Rossio railway station, you take a train paid for with the Viva Viagem card; I think it cost around 3 euros. The trip takes just under an hour. When we arrived in Sintra, we were immediately approached by fake taxi drivers.
There is also a bus that, for about 15 euros, takes you on a circular route past all the main sights. Looking back now, that would probably have been the most sensible option, as it would have saved us the long walk downhill.
For Pena Palace, it turned out to be a good decision to buy the first available entry online at 9:30. A bus or taxi takes you to the entrance of the palace park, and from there it’s about a 15-minute walk uphill. There is also a small shuttle bus, but tickets must be purchased at the entrance, which we didn’t do, so we walked instead.
Besides Pena Palace and the Moorish Castle, which requires a separate ticket, Sintra has much more to offer. For that, you really need a full day.
Cabo do Roca
For us, the end of Europe was more important. Finding the right bus at the station was quite chaotic, as the station stretches along a single long street. In the end, we found it right at the very end.
One hour is more than enough to take in the views along the cliffs. There is also a restaurant, but it was closed when we visited.
Cascais
Less than an hour’s drive brings you to this coastal town, which offers a relaxing break after a long day. From here, you return to Lisbon by train, once again paid for with the Viva Viagem card.
The End
After more than 130,000 steps and roughly 300 kilometers traveled, we can safely say that Portugal is an incredibly beautiful, interesting, and safe country to explore with children.
Next trip: Barcelona
We’re about to set off on a new journey, this time to the heart of Catalonia — Barcelona. We start on December 28. Along the way, we’ll be sharing daily moments on my Facebook profile (Igor Kravanja), while the full blog stories will follow after we return.
