Portugal

There I was, sitting in the windowsill of our room mid-afternoon. Skin tight from a few hours in the sun, hair smelling like the earthy hotel shampoo, a light buzz from the drinks by the pool. A gentle breeze came through. The vineyards stretched out in front of me. And across the way, an older…

Forty-eight hours is not enough time in Lisbon. I knew that going in and booked the trip anyway, which tells you something about how easy this city is to justify. Portugal’s capital sits on seven historic hills (a fact immortalized in its nickname, Cidade das Sete Colinas), though the city has long since grown beyond them…

“Bom dia,” I said to the waiter in wobbly Portuguese, belly up to the bar at Taberna Santo António in Miragaia. He returned a warm smile and came back moments later with an ice-cold Superbock for my husband and a very generous pour of Vinho Verde for me. I took one sip and thought, I think…