Sometimes in life you just know when a chapter ends. After working from home for nearly a year in panicky Brussels, I decided it was finally time to move to a new place. Like a lost Belgian sailor looking for new shores, I knew I wanted to live near the ocean so I could learn surfing – I still remember vividly the excitement I felt when my parents took us to the marvelously ugly Belgian coast. When looking at my options, with its stunning coastline, Portugal definitely felt like an upgrade.
When I arrived in Lisbon in late October 2020, I oddly felt at home from day one. It felt like a breath of fresh air. On the plane, I met Steven, a long lost friend from primary school that had moved to Lisbon 10 years ago. The first of many coincidences throughout my time here.
The first thing on my to-do list was finding a co-working space. I’m a let’s-create-a-google-sheets-comparison-table-with-20-parameters-and-objective-scores-to then-just-follow-my-gut-feeling-anyway kind of person. So I composed a long list of co-working spaces. When I took a tour of Liberdade 229 and glanced into the stylish Lisbon Room, it was love at first sight. It only struck me weeks later that the street in which the cowork is located – Avenida da Liberdade (Avenue of Freedom) – couldn’t have been better named these days.
One of my favourite spots in the area is Parque Eduardo VII, a 5 minute walk away from Avenida da Liberdade. At the top of the park you have a spectacular view over the city. It has been my post-lunch routine for months: the view never gets old.
One of my favourite spots in the area is Parque Eduardo VII, a 5 minute walk away from Avenida da Liberdade. At the top of the park you have a spectacular view over the city. It has been my post-lunch routine for months: the view never gets old.
Another nearby discovery inspired by my local guide Joana, is the Estufa Fria, a greenhouse with tropical plants that makes you feel like you’re walking around in a lush jungle.
In Lisbon, I even found a new undiscovered interest for classical music. If you had told me ten years ago that I would be watching an orchestra playing classical music, I’d have declared you mad. Yet, there I was at the auditorium of the Calouste Gulbenkian foundation, featuring a back wall made of glass which lends itself perfectly to watching Our Lord Debussy performed live by the Gulbenkian orchestra. While the orchestra plays you can see trees gently waving and ducks flying over, adding to the beauty of the music.
A question I get asked from time to time from my family and friends in Belgium is: what are Portuguese people like? Before leaving Brussels, one of my friend casually mentioned that the Portuguese are “the Belgians of the Mediterranean”. At the time I smiled and I forgot about the unusual comparison. After having lived in Lisbon for a year, I have to agree with him.
Since the Portuguese are southern Europeans, most people in Flanders (a region that Portuguese would consider “North”) put them in the same cultural box as Italians, Spaniards and Greeks. In my experience, Portuguese people are more introverted than their Mediterranean counterparts. And, just like Belgians, they often come across as “underdogs” – I even spotted a tendency for self deprecation, which oddly makes me feel “at home”.
The Portuguese have a word: desenrascar, that freely translates as “scrambling by” and refers to finding an often not so durable but cheap solution for a problem using as little effort as possible with the means at hand. This reminds me of Belgian solutions, a project by German artist David Hellbich and his collection of “absurd and funny, the clever, smart, not so clever, only a little bit smart, but often wild solutions of daily survival”.
The Portuguese have a word: desenrascar, that freely translates as “scrambling by” and refers to finding an often not so durable but cheap solution for a problem using as little effort as possible with the means at hand.
Another question I often get asked is “how is Portuguese food”? I admit I’ve become a fan of Portuguese cuisine. I’ll never get enough of Bacalhau a Lagareiro (cured salted codfish in olive oil and garlic) commonly served with Batatas a Murro (smashed potatoes). Other types of fish that is excellent on the grill is: dourada (golden sea bream) and robalo (sea bass).
I was told by a (obviously unbiased) person from the Porto area, that the best Portuguese food comes from the North of Portugal. After a short empirical study, I tend to agree. A lot of dishes from the colder and more mountainous North of Portugal are meaty and hearty. My favourite and most iconic one is the Cozido à Portuguesa: a slowly cooked stew, served in many restaurants on Wednesdays and Sundays.
If you would like to taste everyday Portuguese food as if it was prepared by the Portuguese grandma you wished you had, I recommend visiting O Conforto, A Grelha or O Pedrouços.
In Lisbon, I also found shops that I didn’t know still existed. As many products have become digital and devoid of any soul, it’s amazing to discover places that still use ancient craftsmanship. I’m a recovering coffee addict and green tea has become my beacon of comfort during busy working days. A Companhia Portugueza do Chá is a beautiful store in Santos run by an Argentinian tea connoisseur. I discovered the store when my co-explorer Joana asked me to go to her favourite tea store, which turned out to be right on my street.
Another pearl of craftsmanship is Casa das Velas Loreto, one of the oldest stores in Lisbon. Since 1789 the same family has been crafting and selling handmade candles. The wax of the candles doesn’t “leak” while burning, apparently the hallmark of high quality candles.
Going back to my original surfing quest, I wasn’t disappointed to find that Portugal, with its Atlantic coast of 800km, has pretty beaches and spectacular waves. Just across the river from Lisbon, a short 20 minute drive takes you to one of my favourite surfing areas: Costa da Caparica.
My favourite surfing beach around Costa da Caparica is Praia do Castelo, a break far away from the busier hotspots in town. If you just want to relax instead, Praia da Adiça is a great pick. Drive past Fonte da Telha on your right and keep going until the main road bumps into the NATO military base. After a small walk through the woods, you will find a spectacular beach devoid of crowds. Friendly warning: naked people might be in sight.
After months of struggle in the water, I now have my first short board. I bought it from the local board shaper Matta. The factory is still run by its original founder, Nuno Matta, and it was the master himself who kindly gave me advice on the board best suited for me.
As I am now deep in the surf rabbit hole, I often wonder what makes this difficult sport so attractive. Why do people dive in the freezing Atlantic only to get smashed by waves?
Many have attempted to provide a compelling answer. What personally makes me so enthusiastic about surfing is how it represents a metaphor for life. As esoteric as it sounds, my newly found passion has had a transformative impact on me. I learned how to manage its challenging yet rewarding learning process: every time I learn something new, I’m immediately confronted with 100 things I do not yet master. So I head back in the water, with humility and respect for the ocean. Luckily, the ocean is a relentless but forgiving mistress. She reminds us that the waves keep coming, whether you surf them or not.
The ocean is a relentless but forgiving mistress. She reminds us that the waves keep coming, whether you surf them or not.
Editor’s note: This story reflects Lisbon as it was in 2020–2021. Some locations mentioned may have changed or closed since.
