You'll find a hipster mall called the LxFactory under the 25th of April suspension bridge. Look for the painted pylons in Alcântara.
An hallucinogenic pattern of tiles entice shoppers near the entrance.
Chris and Janet never miss an opportunity to check out a bookstore. A bicycle hangs in this one, located in a former printing plant. It's a branch of Ler Devagar ("Read Slowly") the Portuguese equivalent of Barnes & Noble.
A clerk told me LGBT titles were mixed in with other sections. I had hoped to find a Portuguese edition of an Andrew Holleran novel but had to settle for William S. Burroughs. That's Naked Lunch, a book I found almost unreadable although it is the source for the name of one of my favorite bands.
Janet watched a delightful puppet show upstairs. It takes place on the No. 28 tram.
Knowing I''d probably never get to ride Lisbon's number-one tourist attraction, I bought a tiny papier-mâché souvenir from the puppeteer/artist, who said he trained at a special school in Venice. It now sits on a bookshelf at 47 Pianos.
Don't you love how some American activities need no translation but do require academies?
Many of the shops were located in old warehouse buildings where "street artists" were given a sanctioned opportunity to express themselves.
Just like a typical mall, LxFactory was primarily designed to separate you from your money. I don't think I've ever purchased more souvenirs--including a t-shirt, a unicorn hand puppet, travel socks and a sardine serving plate--in one place.
But only the very slick Comur store--which sells overpriced canned fish and turned out to be as ubiquitous as Starbucks--left me feeling ripped off.
After explaining that the old Portuguese company had been about to go bankrupt until a re-branding made it profitable once again, these young salesmen spent a lot of time whining about their job prospects and political corruption. Pretty much like millennials anywhere!
The lack of price tags may have helped, too, as I ended up paying 12 euros for cod imported from Norway! At least it jazzes up my kitchen.
This mural seemed surprising in a country as Catholic as Portugal. On the other hand, few of the torsos on Grindr had heads.
I took this photo outside a police station. The day we returned to the United States, the Portuguese police announced they had ended a new search for Madeline McCann, the British toddler who has been missing since 2007.
We dined at the Time Out Market which was a lot more crowded than the food court I found in Porto.
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