An Ephemeral Souvenir
<p>We’re here, Lisbon, Lisboa, Portugal. This city is impossibly gorgeous, in a familiar yet uniquely original way. I’m smitten immediately. Colorful, stepped buildings line the hills, cascading into the sea. The streets flow from the water, carving erratic paths into the hillsides. Buildings grow organically on the grade of the hills. I beg you to find a right angle here.</p>
<p>We are staying in the Alfama, the historic Moorish neighborhood of Lisbon. We enter the ancient section and our driver slows to navigate the winding streets. She gets us to a place where the car can no longer pass through, we must traverse the rest of the way on foot. We are directed to navigate through a tiny plaza and make our way up an almost hidden staircase. We walk past open doors and windows, cartas slots for mail, plants in pots balanced on stone steps. Inward we go, deeper, it is oddly quiet here.</p>
<p><a href="https://medium.com/@linds_72644/an-ephemeral-souvenir-5808f44967ec"><strong>Click Here</strong></a></p>