Window-shopping in the *Baixa* for Claudia, then a walk up to the old castle ruins and down through the *Alfama*, the old moorish quarters of the city, under a glaring sun and after not enough hours of sleep – it was fun. We even passed the old *Clube do Fado* where we listened to *fado* two years ago. To get there, walk from the Baixa up towards the castle along the old railway lines until you get to the *Sé*, take the road right, walk down along the cathedral for about 400m and look for a green door on your left.
We desperately wanted to get up early to do some exploring and then enjoy a siesta during the hottest part of the day. But then we spent so much time hanging out in the *Pasteleria Suiça* and the walk up to the castle and down with the extra roundabout was longer than expexted so we only had about one hour of siesta before getting on the train to visit my mom in *Carcavelos* (on the *linha*, the train running from *Cais do Sodré* to *Cascais*). We ate, talked, looked at the kids (my half-siblings), and then we went to listen to some *fado*. But not in Lisbon, not in the tourist places. We went to a remote little in in Parede, where the local *fadistas* meet in a wooden shack behind the restaurant and start singing around midnight until the early hours of the mourning. It turned out that the four of us (me, Claudia, mom, and my stepfather Armin) and four others were the only non-musicians in the house. All the others got up at one point and sang a song or two or three. At the beginning we had about three guitar players, when we left at half past two, there were already six of them...
*tudo isto é triste, tudo isto é fado...*
It was quite impressive.