November Rain. Night Walk Through Arroios

According to the Portuguese, the rainy season should have ended in the second half of November, but this year it was delayed much longer than usual. In more than a month of my stay in Portugal, the days without rain can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Nevertheless, I quickly came to terms with this back in the Northern Region, bought a waterproof poncho cape in Decathlon and calmly walked along the wet streets, and even got used to shooting at night with a tripod.

Today I had planned a night visit to the Miradouro Monte Agudo observation deck, so despite the rain, I headed there after dinner. I stayed at the Residencial Mar dos Acore in Arrois, from where the observation deck was a mile and a half away. I went through Rua Jacinto Maro, then to the end of Rua de Angola. From the small park on Praça das Novas Nações, you can go up to the site via the Rua de Cabo Verde, which requires turning right, but I chose a more interesting path, turning left and following the Rrua Ilha do Príncipe to the stairs leading to the observation deck.

The upper part of the stairs was much narrower, darker and runs through completely deaf thickets, and I want to leave this place as soon as possible. In the most remote area, an ambush was waiting for me: the path was blocked by a closed iron gate. A sign on them said that the entrance to the site is open from 7: 30 to 22: 00. I had to go back.

My watch showed 21: 30 and I decided to try my luck and get on the playground from the other side. I walked along the Rrua Ilha do Príncipe to the Rua Cidade de Manchester, which is a wide staircase. In the middle part of the stairs there is a cozy park with places to relax.

This place reminded me of Montmartre in Paris, with the only difference being that I wouldn't risk going there at night alone with a pack of photographic equipment. Lisbon is much safer in this regard.

Turning right along the Rua da Penha de Franca, I passed the Escola Secundaria Dona Luísa de Gusmão complex of college buildings, where I found the gateway to the observation deck I was looking for. My hope was fulfilled, the ravines were opened. As expected, there was no one here. Some travel guides report that it is rare for a tourist to reach such a remote area, and that this place is very popular with local drug addicts. Above the playground, under the trees, I noticed a group of teenagers, but they showed no interest in me.

The observation deck is located on one of the eight hills of Lisbon, in the eastern and highest part of the Arrois district, on the border with Penha de Franca.

The city below was covered in a pall of rain, so I didn't take out a tripod, but only took a couple of shots. I can't say that the view from Monte Agudo impressed me. Arrois was a dense sprawl of buildings below, and what lay beyond was completely hidden by the rain. I left the site at 22:05, the gate on the other side was also open and I did not see any prerequisites that they would be closed. By the way, in Italy and Spain, the public is very persistently kicked out of parks that close at night about 15 minutes before closing.

Then I went what is called "where my eyes are looking", roughly following the direction to Storna of Martim Monish Square.

After a while, I saw the Convento da Graça Monastery in front of me, and behind it the Castle of St. George, and I realized that I had wandered into the wrong place. However, my walks were not in vain - quite unexpectedly I found a place with a wonderful view, which is not reported by more than one guidebook. As I found out later, it has the official name of Miradouro dos Barros and is located in the upper part of Rua Damasceno Monteiro.

I figured out the right direction and turned into the first alley that led down.

The alley turned out to be the winding staircase of the Escadas da Monte.

When I got down, I walked a couple of blocks down Rua da Bombarda.

Viniz went back down the steps of Tavessa da Cruz aos Anjos alley.

My wanderings ended safely on Largo do Intendente Pina Manique, where the famous tile house Casa Viuva Lamego stands.

Meanwhile, the rain stopped and I continued my walk through Lisbon at night.