Fado, Fiascos & Feral Hawkers: Lisbon Travel Insights
Portugal Travelogue Part 6: Tuk-Tuks, Fado, hills & stairs, rooftop pools, and too many tourists
Lisbon was our final stop on this slow adventure through Portugal. By the time we arrived, we were equal parts excited, sun‑baked, and absolutely knackered.
By this stage in the holiday, the little annoyances start creeping in.
Not with each other, we're used to each other's company after 30 years, even at such close quarters. We're both quite adept at ignoring each other when we need a break from another human, and we both get it.
But those First World Problems, like spending five euros on a coffee on the riverfront and it's a bad coffee. Few things are worse than bad wine, bad beer, or bad coffee. I am a snob about those things. They are little treats, I don't have them every day, so when I do, I want to fully embrace and indulge in the experience.
Graham is still having to drag about the wheel-less bag monster, like some sort of heroic pack mule. After twenty years of service, that case will be going straight to the tip when we get home. No guilt.
And why do hardly any of the escalators work in Lisbon’s metro? So many stairs. So many.
Mozzy bites: Graham picked up several in the first couple of days, and I smugly thought I’d escaped. I’m usually very tasty to mosquitoes. I'm also allergic, so I tend to come up in hives and blisters.
I briefly wondered whether menopause had made me less appealing… fewer pheromones, fewer hormones? Is that a thing? Has anyone studied it?
Anyway, turns out I’m still absolutely delicious.
I’ve now got blisters on my boobs, my shin, armpit, behind my knee. Bitey bastards!
We’d arrived in Lisbon via Pendolino train, my first time on one. The gentle gimbal and big leather winged chairs lulled me into a nap… until a screaming baby jolted me awake.
Sorry not sorry, but there should be rules about babies in first class.
Still, even with the upgrade, Portuguese trains are significantly cheaper than UK cattle‑class. A novelty worth indulging in.
Our hotel was lovely - Evolution Valbom - modern, northern‑European vibes, rooftop bar, rooftop pool. Glass cocoons for a toilet and a shower that looked properly bougie, but I quickly learned not to fire the power shower towards the door - flood alert and a heap of wet towels for the cleaners to deal with ("ooops, I made a mess").
Graham kept apologising that the hotel was 'too far out of town', but actually that was perfect. Quiet, local, and free from the tourist crush. Saldanha and São Sebastião metro stations whisked us into the centre quickly, and everything nearby was calmer, cheaper, and more authentic.
Another gripe - over tourism.
Bits of Lisbon are just too much. Lisbon’s main tourist area is… intense. Think Porto on steroids; louder, busier, tackier, and full of hawkers who step directly into your path waving laminated menus of faded food photos.
They do not take no for an answer. I don’t want to be rude, but intimidation tactics kill my desire to spend money.
It’s the same reason Istanbul stressed me out and why Morocco’s markets have never appealed - gorgeous finds, yes, but the harassment ruins the magic.
Add in loud Americans (so many), and parts of Lisbon feel like they’ve already been swallowed by over‑tourism.
Piccadilly Circus energy. Oxford Street chaos.
But step away from the throng, dodge down a shabby back alley, and Lisbon starts to reveal its soul.
We found a beautiful little book market tucked down a side street. Trestle tables piled with maps, botanical prints, old vinyl, and boxes of flippable treasures. That’s more like it.
🛺 Tuk-Tuk Tourism: When You Become Part of the Problem
We booked a Tuk-Tuk tour. It was two hours of being part of the problem, but it beats hiking up and down Lisbon’s hills in 30°C heat.
Another British couple sat behind us on the Tuk-Tuk, and because we’re British, we all politely ignored each other.
Tuk-Tuks are everywhere. They all follow the same route, stopping at viewpoints and car parks crowded with yet more Tuk-Tuks.
Hawkers swarm you trying to sell naff trinkets. The views are nice, but the photos come out bleached and dull in the white summer heat.
Still, it’s a good way to get an overview of the city and understand how it fits together.
(And this tree needed a hug as much as I did)
Our guide pointed out a flea market that runs on Saturdays and Tuesdays. That's a plan for later.
💡 A Tuk-Tuk… But Make It Hen’s Tooth?
After the tour, I joked: “Let’s buy a Tuk-Tuk and convert the back into a mobile Hen’s Tooth market stall.”
But now the idea has lodged itself in my brain.
How could I do something different for future markets? A mobile stall? A pop-up van? A roving slow-living shop?
I feel a Pinterest rabbit hole calling me.
Graham does, however, like to point out the business sense and start up costs of such an idea. I'd have to sell a lot of trinkets and treasures to pay for a Tuk-Tuk!
Share this website with your friends, & encourage them to buy their gifts from Hen's Tooth!
Help me to fund a crazy Tuk-Tuk shop!
🎶 Fado Like a Local (Not a 50-Euro Tourist Trap)
One thing on our Lisbon list was Fado.
You can pay 50 euros for the big tourist show… or you can do a little research, wander away from Chiado, and find a tiny wine bar with seating for twenty and a 'stage' that’s basically two chairs in the corner.
We arrived early and were the only customers. We had a private Fado performance while we munched tapas. Under 40 euros for food, wine, and an intimate, goosebump‑inducing experience.
Eventually other people trickled in, which meant we could leave without awkwardly being the only audience members.
🚋 Car-Free Streets & Beer Museums
On Sundays, the roads around Praça do Comércio close to traffic, and the whole area becomes instantly more pleasant.
Cities are always better when they prioritise people over cars. That was something I loved about cities in France.
We wandered freely, dodging only trams and other pedestrians.
We found the Beer Museum and did the audio tour. A fascinating dive into the history of beer. We're beer nerds and used to brew anyway, so anything beer is always a welcome diversion. The tour ended with a tasting of three local craft brews.
Then back to the hotel for a rooftop breather: club sandwich, glass of wine, and a moment of quiet to bob along in the very short but very refreshing pool, high above the chaos.