With the Tagus almost lapping at its feet, the Praca do Comercio instantly registers as one of Europe's most memorable squares, anchored by an equestrian statue of Jose the First and surrounded by a number of government ministries. It was here that King Carlos and his heir to the throne were assassinated in 1908. The dictator Salazar stood on this spot in 1960 and called for troops to go to Angola "in force." It was also the site of massive demonstrations after the military takeover in 1974 that led to democratic reforms.
Some Lisboetas still call it Palace Square, its name before the earthquake when the Ribeira Palace was still standing. On a triumphal arch that took nearly 120 years to build, figures representing the Tagus and Douro rivers recline on either side.
Leading off the square are several streets, most notably the pedestrianized Rua Augusta.
Figueira Square lies a few blocks to the north. A busy market here was demolished in 1949 to loud protests, and the space was left with only a ground-level equestrian statue of John the First. He was placed on the pedestal in the 1970s.
As in Rossio directly to the west, a Christmas market is in Figueira in late November, its wooden huts festooned with fairy lights.
The cured ham here, even when purchased in a plastic clamshell at the supermarket, has been out of this world. I never leave home without generously buttered presunto and queija de Nisa (ham and sheep milk's cheese) sandwich in my backpack. My bread of choice is a roll called pao d'avo pequeno (little grandmother bread). I'll get three or four at a time, and when I return home in the evening, the apartment stills smells of fresh bread. It is so humid in Lisbon that my finger won't slide along the face of my phone, and my passport is curled up like a cinnamon roll.
Portugal's most esteemed literary figures are memorialized in Largo do Chiado, where they and the characters in their books liked to hang out. The poet Fernando Pessoa sits outside the city's most famous cafe ― the Brasileira ― and the playwright Antonio Ribeiro appears to be saying something important in front of the Pinto Basto Palace, the former residence of French and British diplomats and home to some of Lisbon's earliest grand hotels. It is now an exhibition space for contemporary art.
The entire area was mutilated by fire in 1988, but you wouldn't know it. Perhaps the Chiado's most notable neighbor is the Church of Nossa Senhora do Loreto, which ministered to Lisbon's Italian community. I appreciate its double flight of steps.
It has been through fire and earthquakes but has maintained its austere, Mannerist front. Inside are works by the Italian school.
I despise Lisbon's traffic. The city needs a coherent, integrated strategy starting with new cycle routes, congestion taxes, fully pedestrianized squares and free public transport for residents of certain ages. After seeing what Anne Hidalgo has accomplished for Paris in just the past five years, we know it can be done.
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