Lisbon - a wonderful tone-up for the calves

The noise of a tram hurtling along beneath the window woke me at six (after 4 hours sleep). Feeling a tad hungover I reached for the paracetamol. Two and a half hours later waking again I felt slightly more human and pleased to see the sun streaming through the window and glinting on the estuary of the Rio Tejo in the distance.

Lisbon is built over seven hills - most of which we walked up (and down) yesterday. My calves feel taut and tender - fingers crossed for buns of steel after this trip!

A late breakfast in the apartment consisted of homemade fruit salad, bread rolls, cheese and tomatoes, then onto Castelo de São Jorge.  Annoyingly I lost my €7.50 ticket within minutes of buying it and had to purchase a replacement. The castle was just ruins, so not a huge amount to see - though we were pleased to spot another coordinated hair and handbag combo - this time in a tasteful rosewood tone.

Lunch on the terrace near the apartment was a simple affair of sangria, omelettes and sardines - though the cute little 'free' cheese that can with the bread turned out to be a hefty €4 each, on top of the cost of the bread itself.

Lunch was walked off with a brisk walk to Cais de Sodré station to catch the train to Belém - the home of the pastéis de nata. We queued up to enter Antiga Confeitaria de Belém, where they make a staggering 15,000 tarts a day - you can watch them at work in the kitchens and take photos though the windows of the quality control section. The bakery has been trading since1837 and the café can seat 2,000 but we took ours to eat in the park where the temperature nudged 30', whilst the tarts digested we dozed in the sun and read.

After a short nap back at the apartment we headed back to Baixa for spit-roasted chicken and fries at Bonjardim. The meal started well when we were offered a complimentary white port as an aperitif. We studiously ignored the goats cheese, having been caught out earlier but we couldn't resist the fish croquettes. The waiter took my order and then disappeared without asking the girls what they wanted - after much laughter and confusion we caught his attention and confirmed that food was on its way for all three of us. The meal was delicious and when the bill arrived it was less than €10 each - basically we had shared a single meal between three, though there was more than enough.

Lisbon on a Sunday night is not lively so after a further trek up and down hills, we were ensconced back in the apartment with a bottle of red and some olive oil crisps before 11pm.

Drizzle, trams and haberdashery

Awoke early (6am), fought it till 7.00 then did some Kindling until the girls woke up.

The plan was to head to the Feira de Ladra (thieves market) via breakfast - lots of random stuff including two second hand gas combi boilers - obviously the Portuguese version of Corgi is not as diligent as in the UK.

Coffee (and an amazing almond tarte) in the square by the Museu do Fado provided an entertaining hour of people watching - there were so many 'ladies of a certain age' wearing tabard style housecoats that we could have been in a Pedro Almodovar film. There was also a glamorous fifty-something woman with a leonine mane of golden hair, and a fabulously coordinated woman with orange handbag, orange Chanel shades and matching orange hair. Coco would be turning in her grave.

We made a quick sojourn into the Museu do Fado - not worth E5, but vaguely interesting - Fado is apparently a traditional form of guitar based singing that is somehow linked to brothels of the early twentieth century. The exhibit included a doll's house brothel - bet they don't feature often in letters to Father Christmas!

We tracked down Garrafeira da Sé - a wine tasting cellar near the cathedral that was recommended by Lonely Planet but the owner was disinterested and didn't offer any samples.

Just time for a coffee stop at Pois Café then a quick foray into the Sé Cathedral before heading over to Bairro Alto.

We walk down a whole street consisting solely of haberdashery shops - who knew you could buy bra making kits?

Whilst trying to find a restaurant called Fábulas we stumbled across a wonderful artisan chocolate shop called Xocoa - one of a chain of four from Barcelona apparently. Hooked in by the free sample ganache tart I left having purchased a bag of chocolate dipped orange peel and bars of Jamaican pimento, orange and lemon chocolate - and got directions to the restaurant!

Fábulas is recommended for its beautiful terrace, but sadly it was full so we dined inside. The goats' cheese, black olive and tomato salad was delicious - the cheese hard and waxy, more like manchego than goats' cheese at home. Several hours later we emerged disappointingly into drizzle and headed for the famous No 28 tram that wends its way through the city via most of the tourist highlights. Maybe it was the grey skies and the rain, but it wasn't quite the exhilarating roller coaster ride described in the guide book.

En route to the apartment for our afternoon siesta we stopped off for supplies in case Portugal's Sunday trading laws make securing breakfast tomorrow difficult. The shop owner is very sweet when we spy and try to buy a bag of croissants that are his supper - he sees our disappointment and offers them to us anyway but we politely decline, leaving with cheese, tomatoes, bread rolls, biscuits, Lipton's tea (a sure sign of being on holiday) and UHT milk (yum).

Three siestas later we are ready to hit the town.

First stop is the open air bar on the Largo das Portas do Sol - basically a viewing point to watch the sunset.

A beer later we head over to Baixa to A Ginjinha a tiny 1840s hole in the wall bar serving shots of Ginjinha - a sickly cherry brandy with incredibly sour cherries floating in it. Not unlike an alcoholic cough mixture. We then head over to eat at Café Buenos Aires for dinner - a wonderful meal starting with tempura zucchini flowers, baked Parmesan in Filo pastry and followed by sun dried tomato tortellini or rare steak, all accompanied by sangria with crushed raspberries.

To walk off dinner we headed to Bairro Alto to Solar do Vinho do Porto - an 18th century cellar bar with an extensive (try 10 pages plus) menu of ports - some over E20 a glass. We slipped into to cream leather club chairs and waited to be guided through the menu. And waited. And waited. Finally a condescending waiter approached and snorted with derision when we asked for a recommendation from the menu. We upped and left settling for the rooftop bar at the Bairro Alto Hotel and the nicest sourest Negroni I've had in ages. Finally we ended up in Bar Belo Di-nós Cabo Verde. A hipster cool bar with a live fado band and lots of bearded, glasses wearing geeks dancing with pretty girls. Two beers later we jumped in a taxi and headed home.