Lisbon & Tram 28
Rode Tram 28 three times just to feel it again. The city tasted like custard tarts and nostalgia.
Lisbon is a city of hills and yellow trams and the specific sadness of fado playing through an open window at dusk. It is also a city of pastel de nata — the custard tart that ruins all other pastries for you permanently.
I took Tram 28 three times. Not because I had places to go, but because the ride itself — through the narrow streets of Alfama, past laundry strung between buildings, up hills the car should not physically be able to climb — felt like something worth repeating.
The Portuguese concept of saudade — a longing for something you may never have had — is supposed to explain the national character. What it explains, actually, is the quality of their music, the quality of their food, and the reason you feel homesick for Lisbon before you've even left.
I left. I am still homesick.
