Friends lean on the tiled terrace of Miradouro de Santa Luzia as tram bells clang on the street below, trading news while the domes of Alfama catch the last light. In June the same lanes turn into one long street party for Saint Anthony, the city's own saint, and later the crowds drift up to the tiny bars of Bairro Alto.
Beyond the old quarters, Belém keeps its stone monastery and riverside tower a short ride west. Winters are mild and rainy, while summers turn warm to hot and dry. A Local Friend walks beside you up the steep cobbled lanes, never racing ahead, and lets you stop wherever a doorway or a view pulls you in.
