First let me explain this boastful introduction. I have read, not without surprise and a determined (to make me look stupid) demi-tear in the corner of my left eye, the article Frank Bruni wrote for the New York Times about “how he fell for Lisbon”. Somehow, amidst all that love, I felt the article was talking to me, directly, a declaration from someone I never knew. It’s probably the same kind of disproportional feeling a mother gets when someone compliments her child. I was born in Lisbon, I grew up seeing Lisbon grow up, so I never got the chance to look at it from a foreigner’s perspective. So it felt right to hear what he had to say about our pavements, our tiles or our overall charisma. So let me guide you through Portugal’s most charismatic and unique visuals.

 

First I’d like to introduce you to Portuguese Calçada (or Portuguese cobblestone), the thing that will make you bow your head at its sight – first, because it is on the ground, and second, because it is absolutely beautiful. Our pavement is one of the most recognizable portuguese symbols, consisting of a blown up black and white version of ancient roman mosaics. The Portuguese take on the subject has been around for the last five hundred years, imprinting geometric and other ingenious layouts below our feet. It is probably the most laborious piece of artwork you’ll ever step on, and in Portugal it is the norm, not an exception. Calçada has been showing its pretty face on other Portuguese speaking countries, but don’t be fooled: Rio de Janeiro’s Calçadão came from Portugal, and not the other way around.

 

Another thing that has travelled the globe, but looks ravishing in its home town is our beautiful Azulejos (or Portuguese tiles, on your neck of the woods). They light up the streets with their sparkle and masterful designs, and the buildings wearing them look as proud as a stylish lady on her favourite dress. Though Azulejos are part of our Moorish legacy, they started to become fashionable in the early fifteenth century, due to the enthusiasm of king D. Manuel I, who turned Azulejos into one of the most recognized status-braggers on the Old Portuguese Empire. Initially, our tiles used only indigo blue over white, but eventually other colours and patterns appeared. Initially adorning the interiors of churches and other important buildings, Azulejo later started being used on the outside, embellishing façades in a way we now consider to be typical Portuguese. Lisbon and Porto are particularly known for their azulejo façades, which turned these cities into the epitome of feminine city.

 

Though Portugal was always quick to absorb style influences from abroad, we managed to do so with a twist, creating our very own Portuguese architectural and decorative style, called Manueline. It was named after King D. Manuel I, the king that hazardly ruled Portugal during the height of the Empire. King D. Manuel was not a direct successor to the throne. through the winding roads of History, he had the chance to inherit a kingdom in bloom, after successive reigns of exquisite thinkers, hard-workers and overachievers. He had it all landing on 
his lap. So, while previous kings had been concentrating on outlining a business and growth strategy, king D. Manuel was at the right time and place to harvest all the juicy fruits planted by previous generations. But instead of keeping up the good work, this led him to believe that he had been chosen by god, almost a messiah with the mission to spread the gospel which, according to him, was Portugal’s unprecedented world hegemony.

 

One of his ways of letting the news out was to carve it on stone. The buildings from this period were intricately designed and decorated in order to convey a message. A message of greatness, of divine interference. It’s a symbolic conversation. The building’s talk deeply about the essence of Portugal’s greatness then and now. With typical late gothic architectonic elements, it is the decoration that gives it all away. The ropes, and nets, and shells, and sea monsters… the Christ cross, and the synthesis of Portuguese discoveries, that still plays the leading role on our modern day flag:  the armillary sphere, symbol of the whole world while it was still being discovered. Two of the most notorious Manueline buildings lay in Belém: Belém’s tower and Jerónimo’s convent.

 

Later, during the so called Brazilian gold-rush, our important ones went into a gilding frenzy. This means that, today, it a rarity to find an old church or chapel that doesn’t look like a blinding kinder egg. No matter how plain they may seem from the outside, the inside is always covered in shimmering gold leaf, as an ever-present reminder of how much more beautiful is one’s inside.