Today was a holiday in honour of Maria de Assunção—because nothing says “let’s celebrate” quite like taking the day off to eat, wander, and pretend we’re cultured art historians.
We made our way to Belém, starting with the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos, which is so ornate it feels like the stonemasons were paid by the swirl. The cloisters were their usual mix of peace, beauty, and “should I move here and become a monk?” vibes. Outside, the gardens were looking smug in their August finery, each flower posing as if it knew it was going on Instagram.
From there, we trotted over to the Picadeiro Real. No horses in sight, but plenty of regal carriages —though, to be honest, I think we carried some of that in ourselves.
Lunch was at Frangos de Moscavide, where the grilled chicken was so perfectly charred it could qualify as a national treasure. We ate enough to make sure the walk back was less of a stroll and more of a slow waddle.
And the heat? Oh, please. Compared to our recent furnace-of-doom trip to Seville, today’s sunshine was practically air-conditioned. We didn’t melt, faint, or beg for mercy—not even once.
In short: a perfect holiday—equal parts history, beauty, and chicken-induced bliss. Maria de Assunção would surely approve.
Enjoy the fotos
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