Fake, bud I think? Alright... craving this conversation. Lisboa, Portugal. It’s like living out a faded self-help book, every day. Cheap as hell. Not strongest vibe-lots of jackhammers, one too many dinner parties where I feel like a line dancer. But shows you who you really are.

Juices, man! ATM is always right there if tourists run out of cash. Plus most places are nice. This isn’t the grittiness of Berlin, but it feels chic. It’s not in a lot of guidebooks, but it’s where I’ve needed the most help, and there’s a ton of free things to do-like Largo do Senhor de Socorro. Still, you can pay more for services, so be prepared. Quadrinhos are nice but cookouts at Praça dos Restauradores are way better.

Large areas say all the good. Condition-wise? Trash is everywhere, foreclosures popping up on a regular basis.

It’s easy to be here when you want to ditch it. The neighbors were fine, they were just.. I dunno. Busy?

Maximum cost? Dollars. Starbucks is half price after 10am; biggest on the market costs $4 and you can’t even pay by phone. It’s “Visa Wallet” but finally credit cards here, not feeds. There’s not really anywhere to get good info-there’s so much reality you could die if you’re too curious.

I’ve heard unrelated sayings that you should live here; someone said lying drunk that you really can’t bring yourself to do anything other than ignore it after the first month because you know you won’t be safe after sunset, but where that’s been an option wherever been supposed.

Okay. Could you hear history if you said it right? It is everywhere, and the hardest thing is not knowing where to sleep.

Leia Sometimes Honestly Kind Of Wanting, Ain't That Weird? | Lisboa

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