An Explorer's Lisbon By Gary Lee Washington Post Staff Writer Sunday, May 24, 1998; Page E01

The Castelo de Sao Jorge sits majestically on a Lisbon hilltop. (Photodisc)

The tower, constructed in the early 1500s, is an awesome work of Romanesque-Gothic architecture whose majestic turrets and ornamental windows are reflected in the river below. It was the starting point of a personal excursion through the Portuguese capital designed for me by historian Antonio Henrique de Oliveira Marques. Upon arrival, I had called the University of Lisbon professor, who is known for his lively chronicles of Portugal's past, to ask for help in finding the pulse of the city.

Before long, we were sharing a bottle of 15-year-old port in the pleasantly old-fashioned bar at the Tivoli Hotel. Using a map spread across the table, Marques took me on an aural tour of Lisbon's highlights. Here were the ruins of the Castelo de Sao Jorge, built in the 15th century, when present-day Lisbon was under Visigoth rule. There was the Jeronimos Monastery, with its ornate five-century-old facade, a poignant illustration of a yesteryear when colonial prosperity must have oozed from city's walls.

And -- not to be forgotten -- the Barrio Alto, whose dimly lit nightspots are back drops for the drinking of beer, the singing of that quintessentially Portuguese style of soul music known as fado, and the inevitable nocturnal intrigue. I knew I would eventually find my way to all of these dots on the map.

But any earnest attempt to know Lisbon, Marques advised, must start at the Tagus River, which forms the southern border of the city and then pours into the Atlantic. "Soak up the mood along the docks," he advised. "Breathe in the sea air. This is the source of our greatness, the bloodline from which all the life of Lisbon once flowed."

Pirouetted by these words to the pinnacle of the Belem Tower, I stood gazing at the robin's egg-colored waters of the Tagus for a long time. From this vantage point, it was easy to imagine massive wooden ships making their way to Angola; Goa, India; Macau; China; and Brazil, all territories that would someday fall under Portugal's rule. But how, I wondered, after hundreds of years, had these cultures in turn affected the life and style of Lisbon?

Exploring the remnants of a grand past seemed the best possible entree to a place where even the walls of watering holes are covered with five-century-old frescoes. From the tower, I ventured through the hilltops of the medieval part of town known as Alfama, and into the ruins of the Castelo de Sao Jorge, now a garden covered with flowers, orange trees and shady terraces. True to Marques's words, much of Lisbon's elegance seemed to be constructed on a foundation laid by 15th-century seafarers.

The five-century old Jeronimos Monastery is a poignant illustration of Lisbon's colonial prosperity. (Photodisc)

The Jeronimos Monastery, for instance, was built in 1502 as a kind of homage to famous explorers of the era. This elegant structure, spread out over several buildings, is a brilliant example of the so-called Manueline architecture named after King Dom Manuel I. Ruler of Portugal between 1495 and 1521, he wanted the buildings of Lisbon to reflect the refined styles introduced to Portuguese navigators in their sojourns to different parts of the world. The original elaborate Gothic style was supplemented by Spanish Plateresque forms, and eventually touches from the Renaissance and Classical periods. Touring the monastery took from just past breakfast to lunchtime, but it was a morning well spent for gaining a sense of Portuguese history.

A short walk from Jeronimos was the Monument of Discoveries. Like the monastery, it exalted Portugal's seafaring past. A 170-foot high sculpture carved in the form of a prow of a ship on the banks of the Tagus, it was covered with statue-like images of Prince Henry the Navigator -- one of the country's most famed 15th-century explorers and celebrated historical figures -- and other noted Portuguese seamen.

A visit to the Museu Nacional de Arte Antiga, Lisbon's main depository of early art, also helped shed light on the country's heyday as one of the rulers of the seas. For me the most memorable piece on display was a polyptych of the Adoration of St. Vincent. Painted in the mid-1400s by Portuguese artist Nuno Goncalves, it depicts the patron saint of Portugal being admired by key figures of Portuguese history, including Prince Henry.

What the museum lacked in dramatic style was compensated for by a stroll through the Pracio del Comercio. By far the most elegant square of the city, it was lined by buildings designed in the classical style popularized in France and Italy. In the center is a baroque arch that forms a backdrop to a statue of King Jose I, an enlightened despot who reigned in the mid-1700s. This broad vista has been given a touch of zaniness by the addition of several works by Botero, the Colombian sculptor who specializes in overly plump figurines.

On the stroll back to my hotel -- down tree-lined boulevards -- I could not help but feel the sweep of Portuguese history rising like a Mediterranean wind around me.

Expo '98 Lisbon's Expo '98, with the theme of "The Oceans, a Heritage for the Future," opened Friday and runs through Sept. 30, with exhibitions from 154 countries sprawled over 150 acres. Highlights include a Future Pavilion, focusing on science and conservation; a Knowledge of the Seas Pavilion, which examines ocean research; and an Oceans Pavilion, whose stock of sharks and other sea life make it the largest oceanarium in Europe. Of course, the best of Portuguese culture is in ample supply, from seafood-rich cuisine to fado music and, of course, port wine, the country's most prized export. One-day tickets cost $28; a three-day pass is $70. Details: Portuguese National Tourist Office, 1-800-767-8842 or http://www.portugal.org.

Americans who missed the history lesson that detailed Portugal's glorious seafaring years will have the opportunity to learn all about it in intimate detail at Expo '98, which opened in Lisbon a couple of days ago. The last world's fair of this century, it promises to make Portugal, including its illustrious past and romantic everyday life, more accessible to travelers than ever.

For all of the sweat Lisbonites have put into discovering the far-flung corners of the world, their home city remains one of the most obscure capitals in western Europe.

Sitting at the bottom of the Iberian peninsula like a rare gem hanging from a necklace, it is less visited by Americans than Copenhagen, Amsterdam or other comparably sized European enclaves. With a population no greater than 700,000, it is less known as a commercial or a fashion center than Rome, Paris or other former seats of empires spread across the continent.

One reason for its relative isolation is the language. By all accounts a lyrical tongue that easily lends itself to ballads and other amorous verses, Portuguese is not widely spoken outside of the mother country, Brazil and a couple of other former colonies. Yet, during a week-long trip, I found Lisbon's location off the beaten track to be one of the greatest sources of its charm. Locals seem to cling to Old World styles (hats with wide brims, for example), giving the place a starkly different atmosphere from such Americanized cities as London or Munich.

The era of neon signs and rap music seems to have passed Lisbon by. Instead, entertainment is centered around small cafes and bars often located in quaint rooms in the courtyards of buildings from an earlier era. In an afternoon stroll down the Avenue Liberdad, a main thoroughfare crossing through the city center, I came across a cluster of locals breaking into fox trots and Charlestons in an outdoor cafe. Ballroom dancing, I later learned, is a favored Lisbon pastime.

Dining out is another. True to the southern European custom, dinner in Lisbon is a late-night affair. Starting at 10 p.m. seems to be par. The meal typically begins with a glass of port or Madeira accompanied by a platter of fresh goat cheese and sausage. The climax, which might come two or more hours later, is often a platter of fresh fish surrounded by vegetables. More often than not, the fish is some form of cod, usually dried. A Portuguese specialty, it seems to be prepared in a different fashion every day of the year.

The cost of living is another aspect of Lisbon life pleasantly stuck in the Old World. A tasty lunch of fresh fish and roast potatoes in a neighborhood cafe runs about $13 for two. A double room in a clean, centrally located pension is $35. A pair of handmade brown suede shoes, usually costing upward of $200 in the United States, goes for about $75. Finely aged port seemed so cheap at 85 cents a glass, I felt obliged to drink two or three of them.

Visually striking, the center of Lisbon seems to combine some of the architectural drama of Florence with the rustic ambiance of provincial France. Many buildings are painted in soft pinks, blues and other pastel colors popular in the Mediterranean. Azuelos, the blue-and-white painted ceramics depicting scenes from Portuguese history or local life, adorn buildings everywhere, from cafes to churches and park walls. Other poignant works of art crop up in the most unexpected of places, too, just as they do in Rome and other history-soaked capitals of Europe. In a walk through the Praca dos Martires, for example, I stumbled across a statue of Sousa Marins, a 19th-century Portuguese doctor whose tenacity with hopeless medical cases has made him a lasting cult figure.

The city planners were smart enough to let nature take its course throughout much of Lisbon. As a result, sidewalks are lined with orange and lemon trees, gardens are covered in bright blue jacarandas in spring and purple bougainvilleas in summer, and parks are adorned with linden trees.

Detail of Lisbon door. (Photodisc)

Old fashioned San Francisco-style streetcars, helpful in traversing the city's hilly terrain, clang up and down narrow streets and vendors pushing roasted chestnuts give the place a rustic ambiance and a sweet scent.

Getting around the center of Lisbon is easy enough by foot. The centrally based Baixa neighborhood, a good starting point for a walk, leads directly to the Praca des Restauradores, the Chiada and the Praca do Comercio. These sightseeing and shopping areas easily took a half day of exploring for me.

Belem, the seafront cluster of museums and monuments, is a 10-minute trip away by taxi or bus.

Alfama, the medieval quarter surrounding the Castelo de Sao Jorge, is an easy stroll from the Praca do Comercio. It can either take 30 minutes or three hours. I preferred the slower pace. One reason is that it is all up a steep hill -- but there were also many distractions along the way, including the Castelo, and the Romanesque cathedral of Lisbon. For me, the most fun part of the walk was whiling in the small shops along the Rua de Sau Pedro and the Rua doe Remedios. The small shops along both streets offered souvenirs too quaint and cheap for me to pass by, including a leather-covered wine jug for $6 and a couple of painted ceramic plates for $7 each.

I saved the Barrio Alto for the night. The Bohemian cafes and restaurants spread across this neighborhood tend to open at about 10 p.m. and come alive after midnight, particularly on weekends. At first, the parade of tourists and young Portuguese along the cobbled streets and narrow sidewalks seemed daunting. As I stopped for a glass of port here or a chat there, however, I quickly fell into the pace of the place.

As the evening wore on, I achieved one of the key missions on my visit to Lisbon: finding a table at a good fado club. A form of ballad singing, fado is as much a part of the life of the Portuguese capital as jazz in New Orleans or blues in the Mississippi Delta.

Although fado clubs are scattered throughout the city, including the Barrio Alto, I was not sure I could successfully cross over the cultural threshold into one. Above all, with only a tourist's knowledge of Portuguese, I was unsure that the all-important lyrics would mean much to me.

But then, as I savored a glass of Madeira in a cafe, I struck up a conversation with a local woman about the musical tradition of fado. "I will help guide you through it," she offered eventually. "It is something you must know if you want to know Lisbon." We soon found our way to a small club on one of the tiny arteries of the neighborhood. We grabbed seats on a wooden table near the front row. I ordered a couple of coffees and continued to chat until the singing started.

The group, a typical fado trio, consisted of two male guitarists and a female vocalist. As she sang, my companion translated the songs, all sad ballads of lost love and fallen glory. Eventually the music and the mood captured me so completely I felt I needed no more translation. By 2 in the morning, I had entered a small part of the Portuguese soul.

On the last morning of my stay in Lisbon I returned to the top of the Tower of Belem. This time I stood with my back to the river, facing the steep hills and pastel houses spread across the horizon. It was then that I returned to my question as to how years of colonialism in far-off places had changed the character of the Portuguese capital. After centuries of staking claim over places like Macau, Timor and Angola, how much of the cultures of these distant places had Lisbon absorbed?

"Precious little," Marques, my historian friend, had warned. "We have thought of ourselves more in comparison to Spain, France or other European powers than to the developing countries where we once had control," he said. "Consequently, we have not taken much from countries we once colonized. But gradually Lisbon is becoming home to more and more Angolans, Brazilians and others. So we're becoming more of a cosmopolitan capital, but more slowly than other big cities in Europe."

During my week of exploring Lisbon, Marques's words had rung true. While London has its large Nigerian and Caribbean enclaves and Paris has Algerian and Senegalese settlements, the ethnic communities of Lisbon seemed sparse and scattered. When I first looked for signs of Asians or Africans or South Americans who had lived for decades in far-off places under Portuguese rule, I found only fledgling neighborhoods here and there.

Excited about an advertisement for an exhibition of the culture of Goa, the region of India that Portugal controlled for hundreds of years, I made my way to the Museu Nacional de Etnologia, where it was being held. But the show was an underwhelming collection of a gourds and other artifacts and a few photos depicting scenes from Goan life.

As I scratched further beneath the city's surface, however, I located a handful of restaurants specializing in Brazilian cuisine and dance and a couple of nightclubs where expatriates from Macau and other Portuguese colonies hung out. And on Sunday afternoon, I witnessed hundreds of Africans dressed in native garb gather in one of the city's central squares, following a Sunday custom they had brought from Angola and Mozambique.

From my perch at the top of the Belem Tower, I reflected on how this staunch symbol of colonialism was gradually, if reluctantly, exposing itself to winds blowing from younger strongholds across the waters. In a few years, I thought, Lisbon will probably be transformed into a London-like multicultural mosaic. But as I watched elderly men bowling on a dusty square and bakers opening their windows, the city seemed to capture the mood of the Old World almost perfectly.

Where to Stay: Finding lodging may prove difficult during Expo '98, but even if hotels say they are booked, try later, as rooms often pop open. I opted for the Hotel Veneza Lisboa (189 Avenida da Liberdade, telephone 011-351-1-352-26-18). Although lacking the grandeur of the Tivoli, located next door, it is a better bargain. The central location, friendly service and complimentary breakfast are all pluses. My small but adequate double room cost $120 a night.

The Hotel da Lapa (4 Rua do Pau da Bandiera, 011-351-1-395-00-05 or, in the United States, 1-800-223-6800) offers intimate, upscale accommodations with lots of charm: stained glass, marble and painted tiles. Doubles run about $270.

Residencial Casa de Sao Mamede (159 Rua da Escola Politecnica, 011-351-1-395-18-96) is a friendly pension in a lively neighborhood. Breakfast is included in the rate. Doubles start at $60.

Where To Eat: One old standby is Cervejaria da Trindade (Rua Nova da Trindade 20B), a former monastery with a bustling beer-hall atmosphere. I had a seafood soup prepared with care and a tasty grilled sole with roast potatoes. Dinner came to $27 for two, with beer and dessert.

Casa da Comida (1 Travessas da Amoreiras) is the place to go for refined and pricey Portuguese cooking. I had an appetizer of young eels, followed by a rock lobster simmered in champagne. For two, with port and a good local wine, dinner came to about $100.

Dom Sopas (50 Rua da Madalena) specializes in soups of all kinds, from cocoa to fish and garlic. Dried cod and other traditional Portuguese dishes are also available. Lunch for two ran about $18.

What To Do: Clubs featuring fado – Portuguese-style soul music – are everywhere, particularly in the Barrio Alto, the old section of the city. I found Adega do Ribatejo (23 Rua Diario de Noticias), open nightly from 7 to midnight, to be both authentic and enjoyable. Cafediario (3 Rua do Diario de Noticias) is a late-night bar featuring up-to-date Latin music. Solar do Vinho do Porto (45 Rua de S. Pedro de Alcantara) is a good place to sample the broad range of port wines produced locally. Service is slow, however, and not as helpful as it could be in educating novices about this very Portuguese pastime. Gay travelers should try Bar 106 (106 Rua de Sao Marcal), a small, nicely decorated bar that draws a friendly crowd of local gay men.

Information: "Lisbon," a guide published this year by Ulysses Travel Publications, is full of useful, up-to-date, critical information. For more information, contact the Portuguese National Tourist Office, 590 Fifth Ave., Fourth Floor, New York, N.Y. 10036, 1-800-PORTUGAL (1-800-767-8842).