Not being a tourist: Lisbon center and Bairro Alto

Some times I like to be a tourist, but then there are those moments I hate it. When I’m on the road (or the boat, the plane, the train, the camel, etc.) it is difficult not to be a tourist. In everyday life it is even more difficult, but when traveling, I beg to differ, like everybody else. If you are a tourist by definition, how can you avoid being one? This is the question I’m trying to answer in this post, while wandering at the most central streets and paved areas of Lisbon.

I gave a lot of thought to my not-being-a-tourist plan. I did that while I was stoned, but that’s how you get great ideas, right? Well, my plan is this: I will try to ignore the names of the main monuments and tourist attractions of the city. I will visit some of them (especially if I don’t have to pay entrance fees), but I won’t look for them. My plan is based on the scientific principle of fate: if it is written to visit an attraction, it will happen. Of course, I have to start from somewhere. Let’s see the metro map, choose the most central metro station, buy a ticket, ride the metro, get out and forget the name of the station. Done.

I was supposed to now what those things are, but I don't, because they are for tourists and you can find them at the center of Lisbon.

Step 2: follow the crowd. OK it led me to a square. It looks like the most central square of the city, at least by Lisbon standards. It is big and surrounded by classic-styled buildings, like government institutions and major theaters. It is moderately crowded. There are taxis and many bus and tram stations. That must be the center. This is good, I’m not a tourist. I’m more like a lost soul. I like it. So, the square is big but not huge. Some people go over there, others follow the opposite direction. Let’s choose randomly. Done.

All these days, I ‘ve noticed something really impressive: the label pollution is very low in this city. The term “label pollution” has been just invented by me and refers to the visual pollution produced by advertisements, store labels, neon lighted letters, stands and other means of showing off a business. Most shops in Lisbon have a very discrete tag over the main entrance, and the screen windows are also low profile. Some stores are quite nice, some other not so much, but you have to enter them in order to see that.

Central stores in Lisbon keep a low profile, but this won't stop you from noticing. Actually, me (like the one on the right) are quite impressive.

I’m in the very center of this two and half million people city and I can tell that the stores of my much smaller birth town are fancier (not necessarily in a good way). In label-polluted towns the store owner has to spent lots of money to compete with the promotional tricks of the nearby stores, while here nobody has to do it. Passengers will notice even the most modest store windows, because they won’t be distracted by other stores or neon lights.

OK enough with the analysis. Let’s go that way. This looks like a paved way for pedestrians and tourists. Here you can find the kind of coffee places where you have to pay five times as much, compared to most coffee places in Lisbon. A guy looks straight in my eyes. What does he want? He speaks first.

- What do you need my friend?
- I just don’t want to be a tourist.
- Coke? Hash?
- Oh, that would make me a tourist, so, no, thanks.
- Very good quality only 20 euros.
- (ignore)

The way to the arch passes through crowds of tourists. You have to be pure and timeless to succeed.

I walk towards the arch. I don’t know how it is called. If I were in Berlin, I would heading from Alexander Platz to Brandenburg Gate. So, now I’m approaching the Brandenburg arch of Lisbon? There is a clock on the top of the arch, but the hands are missing. This is beautiful, because everyone can see the time he feels and wants to see. Time is subjective.

I walk through the arch to another square. It reminds me of Aristotelous square in Thessaloniki, Greece, but I can’t see any coffee shops, so I go back to the central square. I walk in a calm, relaxed pace, which affects my subjective inner clock mechanism. In my personal time, I’ve been here for not more than an hour. In the outside world, on the other hand, the sun has set, and the darkness dominates over the sun light. I ‘m standing at a corner of the central square and I decide to follow the other way (which is always left).

I can’t forget the name of the place the “other way” led me. It is the Bairro Alto neighborhood built on a hill. The roads are stone covered, they go up and down and they are crowded by the right kind of crowed: young drunk people. Some of theme are locals, some other are tourists or exchange students and you can tell that from their body and face characteristics and, maybe, the overall behavior. The don’t look like they belong here, but they look like they want to have fun.

I enter a bar. It is literally just a bar, no stools, no tables and chairs, no waiters. There are also a bar-man and a bar-woman, and a queue. Not being british, I hate queues, so I go to the next bar. Exactly the same situation. I decide to try a third one, but still no luck: I have to take the queue. I order a big glass of Super Bock, it is surprisingly cheep. Now that I think of it, not so surprisingly: it is a self service bar which serves in a plastic “glass” and has a long queue. And it is really hot inside. I have to go to out.

I’m not going to tire you with my adventures of that night. Semi-drunk students are an easy going crowd and you can become welcome without effort. I found myself sharing the company of many different people I’m not going to see ever again in my life. I even got invited to a lame party (there were no drinks, you had to bring your own). I didn’t get drunk, but I had to watch other people doing it. I also had the opportunity to watch a fight between two random guys, but it didn’t last long and the loser escaped with a couple of bruises only. Besides that, it was a quiet night in Bairro Alto and the near by miraduras.