One month in Lisbon: no reservations and big expectations

10 August 2017 text and photos Krassimir Dobrev (
"Can I smell it?", I bend my head impatiently towards the miniature plant on the table of the Brazilian bar. "No, it's manjerico! Fondle carefully his crown, then smell your palm to feel the fragrance," encourages me Philippe. A 23-year-old student in sculpture, whom I just met in the Alfama neighborhood. I strech my uncertain hand towards the plant. Then I place it next to my hesitant nose, while the abundant odor of basil dazes me. According to the tradition, if someone gives you a manjerico, this is considered an explanation in love. Just at sunset, the blue waves of the Tegu river are merging with the yellow facades and the red roofs of the city. Lisbon makes a vow of eternal love with me that I do not intend to break.


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