Over the hills, under the moon - and off the beaten path

It seems we’ve scarcely blinked, and somehow more than  a month and a half has passed since we first stepped foot into the tangle of narrow streets and steep staircases that make up Lisbon’s most historic quarter, the Alfama neighborhood. As we pack our bags and prepare to leave, we can’t help but muse about what this charming,  bewildering place has taught us. We’ve learned, of course, that a cautious gait is critical when navigating steep alleys with cobblestones polished to a sheen by centuries of foot traffic.   In Alfama, one cannot help but slow down, meander aimlessly, and get delightfully lost. The very topography resists efficiency and speed. Turn a corner and you stumble upon yet another cobblestoned incline dotted with flower boxes, beckoning you to stop and smell the blooms. The pace invites contemplation. We’ve learned that quiet moments of reflection are made sweeter by the melancholy strains of fado drifting on ...

The splendid city of Lisbon presents countless wonders to uncover, but there is one exploration that has risen to the top of my agenda: Finding a specific tree, and below that tree - a place that belonged to my mother's youth! Many years ago she visited Lisbon with some friends. It was during the heat of summer, and she often told about how one of those friends persuaded the group to climb a steep hill to sit in the shadow of a grand tree.  Not once, but several times during their weeklong stay.  As the years went by, my mother kept the many visits as a fond memory, but I never heard the reason why they had to climb that hill.  Now - years after her death - I have the time in Lisbon to finally find this tree. And perhaps discover  why they returned, again and again, to sit and reflect in its shadow? The internet can be a good solver of life's puzzles - and I did find an answer in one of its far corners: When the fabled P...