Tag Archives: Architecture

Learning more about Lisbon

Sunday 23 August 2026 – We had a date with Carlos, who would be our guide for a walking tour of Lisbon, at 10am, so we didn’t have to leap out of bed with too much alacrity. The hotel has a small restaurant for providing breakfast, and I’d nominated 0830 as the likely time of our arrival. It was a buffet breakfast, with many good things on it, which I largely ignored for a chorizo sandwich. The major disappointment with it was a complete lack of any Earl Grey tea we could snaffle to supplement our supplies, but we thought we might be able to find some in the shops; otherwise it was a decent and ample breakfast.

Since we had time spare before our date with Carlos, I took the opportunity to walk along to Rua Augusta to see if I could capture some of its charm, and particularly the very typical  Lisbon use of mosaics on the pedestrian areas, before it got all full of people again. One thing I remember very clearly from previous visits to Lisbon is the very charming use of black-and-white tiles to make patterns in the pavements.

These are evidence simultaneously of the effort that must have gone into laying them in the first place, and the lack of maintenance in recent times. Rua Augusta, though, notable as it is, is mosaically in a good place.

Since that put me near the Praça do Comércio again, I took the further opportunity to get some photos there, too.

We met Carlos at the hotel and immediately headed back towards the Praça do Comércio, which gave him the chance to explain some of the history behind what we were seeing. Had we arrived in 1756, the scene would have been one of utter devastation, since there had been a major earthquake (estimated at 7.7 magnitude and only some 40km to the south) on November 1, 1755. November 1 is All Saints Day, and many people were at church, leaving candles lit for the occasion – in wooden houses. So buildings fell and fires raged. As well, a tsunami hit, which completely wiped out the square we were standing on and all the buildings around it – 85% of Lisbon’s buildings were destroyed.

The king, Joseph 1, and his prime minister, the Marquis of Pombal, survived the earthquake and set about rebuilding the city. The buildings we see around the square today are this Pombaline legacy – architecturally simple and with an elegance directly influenced by Parisian architecture.  All the ruins behind the square were flattened and the streets rebuilt on a grid pattern. The yellow colour of the buildings denotes their original purpose of being government buildings. Other colours were used for other functions or in other quarters of the city, like this one.

Apparently, Praça do Comércio spent much of the 1990s as a car park!

Carlos then took us generally northwards, past the Elevador de Santa Justa

a wonderful structure designed by a pupil of Gustav Eiffel to address the very hilly nature of Lisbon, now sadly closed ever since a tragic accident with one of the city’s distinctive funiculars, which meant that they, and the elevador, had to be closed for “maintenance”, although it would appear that neglect was a major contributor to the disaster.

We continued northwards to another major square, the Praça Dom Pedro IV.

You can see old Peter the Fourth above the trees there. He was a Good King, having managed to achieve great things (recapturing Lisbon from his hated brother Miguel, establishing the monarchy as constitutional) before dying young. His statue

dominates the square, but Carlos told us a story that the statue might not actually be of Peter, but of Maximilian 1 of Mexico. The story goes that Italian statue makers had created a statue of Max, but he died so they offered it to Lisbon at a bargain price; it was mounted very high so that the people couldn’t see that it wasn’t actually Peter. A close up of the face

does show a visage resembling Max rather than Peter, it must be said.

We continued northwards towards the Jewish and Moorish quarters, in doing so passing remnants of the old walls of the city,

and the ruins of the Carmo Convent,

a 14th-century Carmelite convent which fell into ruin during the 1755 earthquake.

We were heading into the more working class areas of Lisbon, and it showed;

it’s even more dilapidated than the downtown areas. Among the general downbeat air, though, can be found some of the decorative architectural flourishes typical of the city.

as well as hints about its topology.

The decorative tiling seen elsewhere can be seen here, too, particularly on the buildings in the better-off areas;

tiles are an excellent architectural tool, since they don’t fade like paintwork does, and also can be replaced piecemeal should some break or fall.

The Moorish areas are Mouraria and Alfama and are distinguished by, among other things, the narrow and labyrinthine street layout.

This is the area where the distinctively mournful musical style of Fado is widely said to have originated. The street above features street art depicting many of the most influential figures in the early 20th-century development of Fado.

These two, and others, are celebrated in artworks along this street,

and there are other artworks dedicated to the tradition, too.

We started to see increasing amounts of street art in this area.

and Carlos led us up streets and staircases featuring a bewildering varety of art works.

Much of it sprang from a project to address mental health and community spirit.

and some of the work was of immensely high quality,

and some artists had contributed multiple images, like Gnomo (who painted the other chameleon, above).

The area where this street art can be found is called Graça, and the steps we climbed led to its church.

We looked in, but a service was under way, so we didn’t stay long.

Just outside the church is a splendid miradouro (viewpoint), giving a great view of the castle

and an overview of the city.

At the bottom of the picture you can see the one remaining functional funicular, the Graça funicular, which is more modern than the ones that are currently “in maintenance”, albeit run by the same company.

Around this area can be seen some larger-scale street artworks, many of which have the theme of female empowerment (a relatively recent concept in Portugal, it has to be said).

At this point the rain, which had been sporadic up to that point, became really heavy.

so we stopped in at a charming little coffee shop, Condes da Praia,

where we treated ourselves to some traditional Portuguese pastel de nata – delicious custard tarts before calling it a day and catching a cab back to the hotel.

Carlos had done a splendid job of showing us some of the parts of Lisbon we wouldn’t otherwise have seen, and we’re delighted to learn that he will also be our guide in Sintra, where we travel in a couple of days’ time.

We relaxed for a while back at the hotel until housekeeping ushered us out so they could tidy the room. Since by that stage the sun was beginning to shine through, we decided to see if we could get up to the top of the triumphal arch at the base of Rua Augusta so we headed that way. It was clear, from the aroma in the air, that the amount of rain we’d had during the thunderstorm was more than Lisbon’s drains were prepared to deal with.

The entry fee for the arch is €5 per head, and for this you get a lift ride almost all the way up, which is great. There are still 74 steps to complete the journey, but that’s a lot fewer than it might have been. And the view you get from the top is wonderful, even if the aroma from the street was still perceptible.

I had particularly wanted to be able to show the patterns of the mosaics along Rua Augusta, and this was the perfect viewpoint. I was very taken with the reflections of sunlight from the windows in this picture.

We also took the opportunity to look into the church near the hotel which has the fantastic façade we’d seen yesterday, the church of Nossa Senhora da Conceição Velha.

This picture makes it look quite plain, but it isn’t. The altar is quite something,

the ceiling is beautiful

and there are many carved figures around, some with very lifelike features.

They’ve also taken some of the guesswork (and the reliance on donations) out of setting candles.

We finished our wanderings at Pata Negra, a Portuguese Tapas and Steakhouse, which served us a very fine meal (and G&Ts!), before heading back to the hotel.

So, thanks to Carlos we’ve learned a lot about Lisbon that we didn’t know and seen a lot we probably would have missed. The weather prospects tomorrow morning are conducive to taking a late breakfast, but we can wander about a bit more during the afternoon. Who knows what we may stumble across? Check back soon to find out!

 

Day 1 – getting there; a towering achievement

Friday 8 May 2026 – Happy 100th Birthday, Sir David!

Sir David Attenborough may have been overwhelmed by the (perfectly justified) outpouring of love, affection and respect on the day of his 100th birthday, but this was as nothing compared to the overwhelm we felt in the face of having to set an alarm clock for 0230 in the sodding morning in order to take an 0330 taxi ride to the sodding airport to catch a sodding 0605 flight. This is the earliest alarm call for a holiday travels in living memory and I fervently wish never to have to do it again. It was so early that even our taxi driver, Saeed, who regularly takes on the early morning shift for Woking Taxis, was grumbling. Being decent citizens, we got to the airport for 0400, two hours before our flight was due to take off, to discover that

they don’t open the sodding luggage belts until 0430. Not that having an extra half an hour in bed worrying about missing the alarm would have been any less unsatisfactory a start to the day; it’s just the sodding principal of the thing. 

The morning crew in Heathrow T5 did start the luggage reception process promptly, so we were well up in the line to hand over our bags, and accordingly

had to wait whilst they started up the sodding security process. It wasn’t a long wait, but it’s the principle of the thing.

We got through security pretty quickly. It would have been even quicker had not Jane’s backpack got flagged up for investigation. It turned out that she had the most suspicious of items in her hand luggage – a book! You know, real paper and that. The combination of outrage and dulled senses meant that we’d taken a seat and ordered coffee before we realised that we were, horror of horrors, in a Starbuck’s. Fortunately, our dulled senses prevented us from being further outraged by the coffee itself, and at least our departure gate was actually by the coffee stop, so there were some compensations.

The flight actually pulled back early and arrived before schedule in Istanbul. We managed, of course, to pick the passport queue with the most diligent, thorough and slow check of people’s paperwork, but the upside of this was that the wait for our bags at the carousel was minimal – once we’d found our way to the carousels, that is.  We discovered that Istanbul Airport is huge. It’s the larger of two international airports serving Istanbul (the other being Sabiha Gokcen), the largest privately-owned airport operation in the world, and the second busiest airport in Europe, behind Heathrow. Who knew? The practical upshot was a long walk to the passport desks, another long walk to the baggage hall and an utterly mind-bogglingly large arrivals duty free area. I reckon it’s bigger than any other duty-free retail area I’ve seen in Europe. And around this vast duty free area are at least two dozen carousels (ours was Belt 21) and – somewhere – an exit, although signs to it were noticeable more by their absence than their ubiquity.  I wondered if the idea is to trap foreigners in there forever, existing solely on duty free chocolate and booze and using the perfumes to overcome the inevitable bodily odour resulting from that diet.

We eventually found the (I think) only sign to the exit and thence to Gate 9 where a chap with a Peter Sommer board awaited us and the other couple from our flight, Jackie and Andrew, who were part of this junket. We were then whisked into the heart of Istanbul to our hotel.

Well, not quite.

Istanbul Airport is some 40km outside the city, and the whisking got us through probably 35 of them at a reasonable clip on motorway, before we got into the inevitable sprawl that surrounds what is the largest city in Europe

and then progress slowed rather dramatically.  It gave us the chance to take a couple of pictures of passing scenes, 

including one schoolboy giggle for me,

and, at one particularly slow point, I was able to start wondering philosophically about the influence of English language 

The white P in the blue square has clearly influenced the development of the Turkish language, in which I’m sure “Auto” and “Park” are not indigenous words. Architecturally, on the journey from the airport, we’d obviously noted the prevalence of mosques as being an important visual cue that we were bordering the Middle East, so seeing this building

was not something I’d expected, which just goes to show I should have paid more attention to the information provided by Peter Sommer, because it’s a significant landmark in Istanbul called the Galata Tower, it takes its name from the area of the city it’s in and our hotel was the Galata Hotel.

Unsurprisingly, our room was not ready for us when we arrived at the hotel, so we took ourselves off to its second-floor restaurant for lunch. It was not overly busy

and the Caesar Salad, whilst very welcome, was slightly divergent from what one might expect in a UK restaurant, but it passed the time until we could get into our room, which was comfortable but a little on the compact side. It’s nice and modern, though, with international plug sockets and multiple USB points around the room, which is something I’m in favour of.

Unsurprisingly, we were somewhat knackered by this point in the day, so we took the opportunity for a bit of a rest, but then our usual instinct clicked in and we decided that we needed to go for a walk. Obviously. Jane had spotted that the Galata Tower was (a) A Thing that tourists could visit and (b) only minutes away from the hotel, so we headed thither, to discover that we weren’t the only people with this idea.

We really weren’t.

Really, really not.

However, overriding my normal instinct on seeing a queue like this, which is to say “fuck it” and walk away, we realised that today was probably going to be our only opportunity to go up the tower, so we stuck with it.  I wandered off to take a few photos in the area whilst Jane guarded our spot in the queue.

On my return to the queue, we realised the first thing that we’d forgotten to pack – we had none of Twinings finest Earl Grey with us! Shock! Horror! What were we to do?

In the short term, the answer was “nothing”. We inched our way forwards for some 45 minutes until we got to the front, where a chap was on hand to make sure there was no trouble from people trying to push in.

Going up the tower is quite easy, as a lift takes one to the sixth floor, whence a couple of flights of stairs lead to the outside balcony which goes right round the tower. And the views are pretty spectacular.

One is directed to take the steps (rather than the lift) as the way down from the tower.  On the various levels there were things on display, such as a rather engaging model of the city

and a traditional Turkish vessel.

There was also an interactive sort of display/video game on the topic of the first recorded base jump from the tower. This was (reportedly) done by one Hezârfen Ahmed Çelebi, in 1632, who constructed a large wing and then flew across the Bosporus to land safely on the other side, aided by a south-westerly wind – thus predating the (scientifically verified) work of Otto Lilienthal, conventionally regarded as the first man to successful execute heavier-than-air flight. In theory, one can stand in front of a screen and do a Microsoft Flight Simulator with body and arm motion to steer, though it looked a little clunky when we watched.

Frankly, I think the story is bollocks. The altitude at the top of the tower is maybe 115m above sea level, and to create something in the 17th century that would glide 3,385m? I don’t think so. 

Some of the stairways down were OK for people up to about 5′ 9″, 

but a bit cramped for me, as I’m over 6′ tall. But we made it down successfully with no cranial contusions and made our way back to the hotel.

At 7pm we went down to the lobby to meet our guides, Professor Jim Crow and Seçkin Demirok, and our fellow travellers. Our group is 18 strong, and we chatted to Penelope and Chantelle whilst we waited for the others to come along and to get the initial briefing about our time in Istanbul. It took a little while, but eventually we had a few introductory words from Jim and Seçkin before we strolled out for some dinner. The route to our restaurant led past a lot of shuttered entrances, many of which had been decorated with painted figures, some well-known

and some less so.

The restaurant we went to, Mahkeme Lokantası, had a private room for us (confusingly accessed through a different front door), where we came face to face with what I suspect are typical realities of eating out in Istanbul – many, many starters with bread, followed at a leisurely pace by main course, then dessert and tea or coffee. It was around 8pm when we started eating, a time which is uncomfortably late for us, and especially bearing in mind that it was by this stage some 18 hours after we’d been roused from our slumbers. The food was lovely, but the quantities far too generous, and so Jane and I took our leave before the end of the meal to give us a chance to catch up with some much needed sleep.

Thus ended our first day. The morrow promises to be content-rich, with visits to mosques, museums, carpet shops and, excitingly, cisterns! Stay tuned to find out how that all went!

 

 

 

Dunedin – Handsome and Arty

Saturday 21 March 2026 – What’s in a name? Being an ignorant sassenach, I had simply expected that Dunedin in New Zealand simply took its name from a Scottish city of the same name. Alternatively, since I knew that it had been where mainly Scottish settlers had made their base in 1848, I wondered if they thought, “well, we’ve done Edinburgh, so we could all this place DunEdin for short”. Or perhaps, tired from their travels, they thought “this journey ‘as done my ‘ead in; let’s call this place ‘Done ‘ead in'”. Apart from the fact that there is no Dunedin in Scotland, the reality is much more prosaic: “Dunedin” is basically the Gaelic for “Edinburgh”. And the place has something of the grandeur of Edinburgh about it, with some very handsome buildings, not the least of which was the Distinction Hotel where we were staying, once the head Post Office building from 1937.

(It’s actually a square building; excuse the odd perspective one gets from a wide angle lens, here.)

We had an afternoon’s fun outing booked, which left us with time on our hands for the morning in a new and strange city. So we went for a walk. Obviously. On it, we passed several more handsome buildings.

which definitely give the place the sort of gravitas one feels in Edinburgh. I even thought, when I saw this

that it was an echo of the Scott Monument in Edinburgh. That one is for Sir Walter Scott; perhaps this one is another of the various ones we’ve seen to Robert Falcon Scott? Alas, no.

Worthy of special mention are the Law Courts

and, of course, the Railway Station,

which is fabulous both outside and in, not the least of the inside attractions being the existence of a very decent restaurant and coffee shop.

The station proper has a wonderful interior

with some lovely stained glass and mosaic tiling.

The Cathedral of St. Paul is an imposing edifice

which has a separate bell tower.

The bell is rung on Sundays and for funerals and also for special occasions; charmingly, these include celebrating the return of the first albatross to the Otago colony each year (more of which later). The interior of the cathedral is quite light

and features some lovely stained glass, some of which is very localised;

I leave you to do a “Where’s Wally?” for the  seagulls, cormorants, fur seals, sealions, penguins, herons and other local wildlife which adorn this window – astonishingly, it appears not to feature a kiwi. There was some very stirring organ music to be heard as we walked around, and, as we left, I noticed that this great welling of sound was being driven by a young talent at the keyboard.

There are other churchy-looking buildings, some of which actually are churches, such as the First Church of Otago

and some of which aren’t any more. This one, for example, is now apartments.

It also sits on something that features a lot in Dunedin – steep streets.

The local brewery, Speights, is also set in the hills just outside the city centre

(I recommend Speight’s Gold Medal Ale, by the way.) Maybe the hilly nature of the terrain was what reminded the original Scottish settlers of Edinburgh. More on steep streets by the by, incidentally.

Regular readers of this blog, of whom there are at least two, will know how keen we are to seek out street art, and Dunedin features a lot of very striking murals and other works. If truth be told, we spent our morning searching out the works of art (Jane had a special map), and seeing the other buildings was almost incidental. This is but a sample of what can be seen around the city.

Dunedin is a very decent city to wander around in and we enjoyed our morning’s rambling and seeking out of the artworks. Our day was not, however, done; we had Something To Do in the afternoon, so had to get back to the hotel in time to be picked up for it. Read All About It in the next entry!