Travel Diary. Day 4. Enjoying Lisbon. Fado.

We passed by a park in which roosters were strolling and singing without rest. Well, one of Portugal's symbols. They sounded as if indignant that the sun was already high in the sky but the Lisboans hadn't even thought about getting out of their homes yet. We passed by a monument at whose base stood rows of white inscribed plaques that actually resembled tombstones. Hmm, a strange monument.

Unfamiliar to the eye was also the interior of the Catholic church Igreja de São Domingos - the greyish walls worn and peeling, the columns as if battered with heavy blows, several altar paintings have not survived, niches boarded up with wooden planks. One can see that the 13th-century building suffered considerably in a fire and has not regained its former glory.

What has always fascinated me in southern cities is the contrast between closely packed buildings crammed along the edges of narrow, winding streets - as if each centimetre under the sun were being economised - and the mighty, wide city squares that suddenly open up around a corner, with some remarkable column or memorial figure at the centre, where the gaze can slide freely across the panorama of the city's buildings and where there is abundance of everything. Including shops and cafés appealing to tourists.

One such is Confeitaria Nacional at one of the corners of Praça da Figueira. This is the city's oldest confectionery, operating since 1829, delighting visitors with an authentic, ornate antique interior, a very wide choice of sweets, friendly staff - and a limited number of tables; most likely one will have to stand while sipping coffee and snacking.

The closer we came to Praça do Comércio, the more we merged into the crowd of people and the bustle, the aroma of roasted chestnuts, temptations to try some ocean creature or dried meat sausages, and to shop in a souvenir store (I honourably resisted buying a single fridge magnet, colourful tile-patterned mug, or plate with scalloped edges). But where I did walk in and disappear for about an hour is the Portuguese "Seaside" shoe shop (the ladies will understand me).

The Tagus River promenade is fairly busy and beloved by free artists - stone stacking, sand sculptures, and the like. There is also a wonderful view of the far bank, where on a hill stands a statue of Jesus Christ, similar to the one in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. This calls to mind the fact that one of South America's largest countries also speaks Portuguese.

The thermometer was approaching the +30°C mark, and having quenched our thirst for a moment at the outdoor terrace of the nearest restaurant while lazily watching the famous yellow Lisbon tram running along its tracks, we moved on to find The Pink Street - which by day is quiet and only tourists are constantly taking selfies against the backdrop of the colourful street.

So passed unnoticed the last day in Lisbon, but the evening and night in the city turned out even more beautiful. The previous day (it is not possible to book for the same evening - only for the next) we had reserved a table using the TheFork booking tool at one of the fado restaurants with an easily Google-searchable name - Clube de Fado (R. de São João da Praça 86, 1100-135 Lisboa).

The idea is as follows: you enjoy an evening meal - which can be quite substantial or modest, the so-called polite minimum - and listen every 20 minutes to a fado performer who sings three or four songs. The polite minimum per person: snacks (olives, small sausages, white bread, and olive oil) 5 EUR, water 3 EUR, a bottle of wine 19.50 EUR, + fado 7.50 EUR. From nine in the evening until eleven we listened to four performances. I will share some of the best videos on the iinuu Facebook profile.