We went to the festival about 9.30pm;  this is a major celebration and night parades flowed into a city strolling day. The night parade had a strong emphasis on the young and the ethnic Portuguese who while playing music and singing, did so in a reserved and humble way. The Rua Avenida was lined with locals and tourists gently clapping and cheering while the side street cafes had moved tables and chairs on to the footpath enjoying barbecued sardines away from the parade

The next day the cities quiet strollers had to weave their way between scores of contract cleaners using primarily what seemed like fire hoses to hose from the top of the hills down to the flats below quite a sight in itself. We walked through this as we were washed downhill to Rua Avenida turned right nearly to the river and then left and uphill to visit a church. It was recommended by our artist who did some of his training by painting copies of this small ‘sistine chapel like art’ on the ceiling. It was a delight and worth getting washed down afterwards

While this annual celebration was underway we found, by chance, that we were in the intriguing backstreets of Fado land. A photo shows the twelve string Fado guitar and there are memorials written on the walls of where these famous Fado performers used to live. The streets felt really lived in and full of intrigue as I imagined the once musical Fado backstreets, and who knows they might still be

 

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