Our First Morning in Lisbon

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.