Sweet days in Lisbon

Lisbon is melting, and me with it. The city is currently scorched by a brutal 30°C in the shade, and that’s only if one can wrangle some shadow. I’m chasing sea breezes and slurping cold beverages, in a vain attempt to outsmart the sun.

Sea breeze at Alfama.

I find myself plowing into the chaos of Antiga Confeitaria, elbow to elbow with eager tourists and locals alike. All competing for the same mouth-watering custard perfection known as Pastel de nata, a sort of egg tards. This small place in Belém is said to be the original epicenter and yes, it’s really good. One bite and the world softens at the edges.

But sweetness is a poor shield against Lisbon’s starker truths. The city’s beauty can’t distract too long from the tension pulsing beneath. After three years of economic crisis, unemployment hovers near 18%. The national debt? Larger than the country itself. Hope feels fragile here, like something that could shatter under a careless step.

The chaos at Antiga Confeitaria de Belém.

And then there’s the music. The sad songs of the Fado seeps out from open windows and drifts down alleys. It’s the soundtrack of saudade, the Portuguese word for a kind of melancholic longing after something or someone that is no longer there. Loss, longing, regret and desire tangled up in a single word that tastes of salt and smoke. If Istanbul has its hüzün, Lisbon has its saudade, and it’s everywhere, like music for ghosts.

Scorching day at Padrao dos Descobrimentos.

Politically, the air is tense as well. Salazar’s gone for decades, yet his shadow lingers in fractured institutions and weary citizens. The Portuguese people are having a hard time coping with the demands of the European Union, as several government ministers have recently resigned and the political situation in the country is deteriorating even more.

Still, we must find moments that flicker bright in the darkness. Next item on my list are Travesseiros, a sort of pastry which can be found at Piriquita in Sintra. Pillow-like puffs of goodness, too much sugar dusted on, the kind of thing that is eaten with shut eyes and a sad smile. A smile of things that were and things that have not yet come to pass.