Lisbon

Tiled hills, cheap grilled fish, and light that flatters everything.

A city built on seven hills and one very forgiving attitude to time. You'll walk more than you planned: up through Alfama's laundry lines, down to a tasca where the sardines arrive without a menu, back up as the sun turns the river the colour of weak tea. There's an afternoon in Sintra's damp green hills, a morning at the fish market with someone who knows the sellers by name, and at least one evening of fado that starts too late and ends far later.