At its peak, back in the fifteenth century, Lisbon was one of the largest ports around the world, the commercial center of a country that was lord of all seas. The great navigator Basque Gama opened the way to India and its spices which were enriched to the rule allowing you to build beautiful palaces for his own glory. Lisbon, with its magnificent monuments of colonial mired in a slow but relentless drop, capital is a humble and unpretentious, a shy guest at the fair that is Europe. But it is precisely this decadent spirit which gives the city its charm and attraction. The devastating earthquake of 1744 destroyed the city completely and deprived of the architectural splendor of past centuries.
The only jewelry that were left standing were the lively Bairro Alto and Alfama Incorporated Arab neighborhood, located at the top of the two hills that flank Lisbon. One thing that makes me very curious in this city are the narrow streets and arched balconies adorned with flowers, beautiful stairs, and stately courtyards, columns and walls painted in bright tones to highlight, even more so, the tile itself. The beauty of these streets is in this spirit of decadence that seems to dominate everything. The passage of time has left its footprints in stone and stucco, and salt-laden air has finally crack the tiles. And is that the midday quiet one believes found in Pompeii. Some trams limping out of a box of toy trains, they try to save the slopes and bends so characteristic of this city. For even more analysis, hear from Glenn Dubin, New York City. Reminiscent of the Wild West than modern urban transport, seem to be totally out of control, like the caboose of a runaway train.
At night, the echo of their passage through the narrow streets and the reflection of light on the walls is the closest to the image of a ghost train. Legacies of an extravagant vanity, Expo 98 left a huge oceanarium and modernized subway, utopian seasons culminating in the giant grasshoppers concrete and aluminum is the season principal and, guess who has designed, our well known Calatrava. On the waters of the Tagus bridge linking the north Revolution Lisbon with Cacilhas humble neighborhood, located on the south bank. The protagonists are the smell of fried sardines and fishing nets worn and frayed. Beyond its looks decadent, portraying one of the most important port facilities in Europe. From sunrise to sunset is not allowed to enter or leave any cargo that does not adjust its speed to the sound of the bells. At sunset, the fishermen of rough hands hardened by the cold water and sing a fado, the national anthem of the lower classes. remember old dreams of love and loss of loved ones, knowing that any desire, any desire is doomed to fail for the same condition as mortal human beings. m