Portugal: Where the Pastries Are Sacred, the Hills Steal Your Calves, and Everything Is Covered in Tiles

Welcome to Portugal, Europe’s laid-back, sun-soaked western edge where the cod recipes are endless, the tiled buildings belong in a museum, and every meal ends with a creamy, blistered custard tart that will alter your brain chemistry forever.

It’s a country that defies all rules of urban navigation. In Lisbon and Porto, city planning apparently involved taking a bag of medieval houses and dumping them over insanely steep hills. Walking through the narrow streets feels like a continuous, brutal leg workout—right up until a tiny, vintage yellow tram comes screeching around a cobblestone corner, barely missing a laundry line hanging overhead, and saves your life.

Then there’s the national obsession with Pastéis de Nata and Bacalhau (salted cod). Legend has it there are over 365 different ways to cook cod here—one for every day of the year—despite cod not even being native to Portuguese waters. To wash down your mountain of fish, you can head up the Douro Valley to taste sweet, fortified Port wine, or grab a cheap glass of fizzy Vinho Verde at a local tavern while listening to Fado—a hauntingly beautiful style of music that expresses saudade, a uniquely Portuguese feeling of deep, melancholy nostalgia for something you miss.

Down south, the Algarve turns into a dramatic coastline of golden sandstone cliffs, hidden sea caves like Benagil, and turquoise Atlantic waves that attract surfers from all over the globe.

Between marveling at hand-painted azulejo tiles covering every available wall, dodging tram tracks, and learning that "Obrigado" is your magic ticket to instant smiles, Portugal is soul-stirring, budget-friendly, and effortlessly charming. Just wear shoes with great grip for those slick cobblestone hills, leave room for at least three tarts a day, and never try to rush through a meal!

November, 2006