Lisbon: A Little Rough Around the Edges, but Full of Magic at its core

So much joy and laughter.
A calmness, carried in by the Atlantic breeze.
Identities mixing, bright colors and patterns of the mosaic from the south, dancing with the deep red of port wine.
Such a vibrant, small big town.
Confident, and full of surprises.
Kinder eggs of life around each corner, waiting to be felt and lived fully.

Lisbon. A city that wasn’t on my list butfound its way into my heart. This is where my brother lives now. He’s my best friend, though I wasn’t too happy when he first entered the world. I was six, well accustomed to being the center of attention, and in no mood to share the spotlight. In some ways, I still am today. It didn’t help his case, the fact that he found his way from the hospital back home on my birthday. It took me time to welcome this new creature into my world. He was calmer, and more patient than I would ever be. But now, I am beyond grateful for him. For his wise takes on my adventures and for the quiet understanding that only siblings share. Sharing the burden of life. These days I’ll happily celebrate our birthdays in the same week of September, and I can’t wait to see where else we go together.

With him as my compass, Lisbon pulled me into its hidden gems. Along with the ability to let my feet take me exactly where I was supposed to be, without any plans. One afternoon, I wandered into the beautiful old Basilica da Estrela. Inside, I met an artist from Ukraine, Veronika Blyzniuchenko. It was the day after the three-year mark of the invasion of her homeland. She had found her refuge here, in a foreign city that had become a safe harbor. A proud woman with kind eyes. She ran her hands gently over the vast canvases before her, full of gold, full of love. Such deliberate care, I quietly watched her brush trace strokes of white and ocean blue. Each movement, a devotion to the bridges between her past and her present. Through her art, she wove stories of peace and a long-wished-for harmony.

We spoke for a while, about loss, about displacement. She had found hers in Portugal, Cascais. She told me about the beauty of the landscape, the comfort of the coast. Amidst love and care, like herself, carrying both wounds and beauty – both the past and reinvention. As she spoke, it struck me how much cities resemble people. Some welcome you with open arms, others make you earn their love, and some quietly slip into your heart when you least expect it. Settling there before you even have a chance to resist.

For the first time, in all my devotion to Istanbul, I felt something shift. My beloved city, with all its chaos and poetry, had met some serious competition. Lisbon had caught me off guard, in the best possible way. The way the city rises and falls on its hills, makes you feel as if you’re just a few steps from walking into the sky.

Perhaps that is why Lisbon felt familiar, like a distant cousin of Istanbul. The steep streets, the winding paths, and the colorful walls. Every climb is rewarded with a view that takes your breath away. And then, the water – always so present. Dividing the city into two worlds, yet never truly separates them. A golden bridge stretches across, much like the Bosphorus, holding the two sides together in an unbreakable embrace. There’s something about cities like these, where the land itself is in constant motion, where you’re always either ascending or descending, never quite still. Where you never know what the next hour will bring. 

Maybe that’s why these cities pull me in. Because they remind me that movement is life, and balance is found in the contrast.

Lisbon, you’re handsome, and you know it.
You glance twice in the mirror when you pass,
giving yourself a big smile,
adjusting the custom-made floral shirt, the fitted pants, and the loafers.
You know exactly where you’re heading—to the beach,
even if the weather is like your mood—on and off, hot and cold, all of life at once.
You’ve lived a full life, influencing others,
not always in the ways I respect,
and being influenced,
not always in the ways you’d like.
And now, things look different.
You are different.
World-traveled, steady, strong in your position.

The smell of the ocean, unmerciful winds, and the loving sun, forgetting it is winter elsewhere in the world.
Contrasts, how I love the contrasts.
The grilled fish and the wine.
The coffee from the other side of the coast.
It seems to me you somehow managed to get it all.

Lisbon, I don’t know where I will go next. But I know, without a doubt, that I will come back to you.

All pictures provided from the author.