Anna Mulock Houwer·
Stories
··3 min read

Queen Lisboa

I remember the first time I felt her pull. I hadn’t even landed yet. There was the red bridge – my bridge – spanning the water, and something about it gave me goosebumps. That was the exact moment I fell in love, sitting in that plane. When the wheels touched down and I stepped out into the soft warm air, there was a peaceful knowing in my heart. This is it. I am home. Welcome to Lisboa.

What began as a solo scouting trip in the middle of the pandemic became a happy life with my family just a few months later. Before Lisbon, I was a restless, rootless ‘serial expat.’ Born in Poland, I spent my adult years living in Germany, Switzerland, and Belgium. Working internationally and traveling constantly, I never sought the steady presence of any one place. Lisbon became my anomaly.

Now, every time I drive across the red bridge, tears catch me off guard. It is not sadness, but rather overwhelming gratitude. The landmark I first fell in love with became the threshold to the life I was meant to live. It has been four years now, and I understand better than ever how true the line from that 70s song is: “You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.”

When the wheels touched down and I stepped out into the soft warm air, there was a peaceful knowing in my heart. This is it. I am home.

She stands at the edge of the Tejo, luminous without trying, radiance spilling out of her like light spills on water. She turns heads, of course she does. Anyone who visits or lives here becomes a hopeless admirer, caught in a fever they never quite recover from. We move through our days in a kind of Lisbon-induced delirium, as if her beauty has rewired something in us. And when we leave, it only gets worse. The saudade strikes fast and hard the moment the plane takes off, and we see her, whole and shining, from the window. Later, when we are far away, the ache begins. She’s still in our veins, cruising through us like a substance we can never rid of. We come back starving for her, for the reconnection.

Lisbon is easy to love but impossible to explain. How can I describe the way the sunsets bleed into the Tejo? The ancient aqueduct arching over the valley? The mesmerizing jacarandas in full bloom? The intricate calçadas? Every corner of the city feels like it’s been staged for a movie you’d rewind just to savor one frame at a time, again and again.

She is unmistakably a woman. It is in her colors, her warm and soft edges, the way she pulls you in close but keeps just enough hidden to drive you mad. She is irresistible, and she knows it. That confidence, eternal and effortless, has left so many of us completely undone. She is the queen.

In my spare hours, I have poured my love for her into poetry. The words keep coming, as if she’s whispering into my ear. Some days I try to stop, but it never works. Love is the why. And I love Lisbon.

I do not miss my old life in northern Europe. As a foreigner, I feel incredibly privileged to have access to all her beauty, mine to enjoy whenever I wish. But take care, newcomers. The danger to your heart is real. Because Lisbon is not really a city you visit. She is a city you fall for, utterly and completely. And once you do, there is no leaving her. Not really. Not forever. As I wrote in one of my poems:

No way to understand this.
It’s futile to resist.
No use to overthink love.
Just live.

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Anna Mulock Houwer
Anna is a Lisbon-based board advisor, mentor, TEDx speaker and poet. Having lived in Poland, Germany, Switzerland and Belgium she now calls Portugal home. Since moving here four years ago Anna shares her passion for the country at LoveandLisbon.com.
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