Lisbon

A 1930s wooden tram that happens to trace the city's greatest-hits route — Graça, Alfama, Baixa, Estrela. Ride it before 9am or after 8pm; midday it's a pickpocket sauna with a queue.

Manueline stone carved like rope and coral, paid for with pepper money, holding Vasco da Gama's tomb. The cloister is the single most beautiful room in Portugal — book online and go at opening.

The original custard tart, made to a sealed recipe since 1837, still warm, cinnamon on top. The takeaway queue moves fast — or sit in the blue-tiled warren inside. Two minimum; you'll want three.

Moorish ramparts on the highest hill, peacocks in the pines, and the whole city-and-river laid out below. It's the view that explains Lisbon's geography — go at 9am before the buses beat you to it.

Portugal's blues, sung at close range while you eat — when the lights dim and the room goes silent, you'll understand saudade without translation. Skip the dinner-show barns; find a tasca where locals shush you.

The highest miradouro and the locals' favourite — castle, river and bridge in one frame as the light goes gold. Someone's selling cold drinks; someone's playing guitar. This is the Lisbon evening, free of charge.

The fortified lighthouse that waved the explorers off — Manueline stone lace standing in the river. Seeing it from the water's edge at golden hour is the point; going inside is optional.

Lisbon's best chefs condensed into one food hall. Yes it's touristy; it's also genuinely good. Go at 11:30 or after 22:00, split up to order from different counters, meet at a shared table.

A 19th-century industrial complex under the bridge, reborn as bookshops, studios and rooftop bars — including a bookstore built inside a former printing works that people cross town for. Sunday brings a small makers' market.

The 'thieves' market' has run since the 13th century — azulejo tiles, vinyl, medals, junk and treasure on blankets behind the Pantheon. Tuesdays and Saturdays, mornings; haggle gently.

Ride the 1902 iron elevator (or walk round the back for free) to the roofless Gothic church the earthquake left standing — Lisbon's most haunting interior, open to the sky.

Sour-cherry liqueur served through a hole-in-the-wall since 1840 — one euro, one shot, cherry in or out, drunk on the pavement with everyone else. The fastest tradition in Lisbon.

Cais do Sodré's old vice strip, literally painted pink — now the after-hours artery where Bairro Alto pours downhill when its bars close. Peaks at 2am; nobody remembers leaving.

The scruffy, guitar-strumming sunset terrace above the river — younger and looser than the manicured viewpoints. Buy a beer from the kiosk, sit on the wall, watch the bridge light up.

Five centuries of azulejos in an old convent, ending with a 23-metre panorama of Lisbon painted before the earthquake destroyed the city it shows. Out of the way; worth the detour.