【Lisbon Essay】The Golden City on Tram Tracks

Ding Ding - Tram No. 28 turned into the narrow alleys of the Alfama district, and the yellow body of the tram brushed past the balconies where shirts were hung, like a string of moving sunlight. I followed the taillights of the tram and climbed up the Castle of St. George. The whole of Lisbon suddenly spread out under my feet: between the waves of red-tiled roofs, there was a golden route drawn by the tram, and the track was winding like the fingerprint of this city. The silhouette of the Belém Tower hangs on the surface of the Tagus River, and the more vivid scenery is hidden in the wrinkles of the tram drivers - they skillfully swing the old-fashioned steering wheel, letting the century-old rails sing the same melody in the city of seven hills. When the dusk dyed the tram glass into honey color, I finally understood why the Portuguese said: "The soul of Lisbon lives in these iron boxes that can climb the slope." #Tram knows the direction better than the compass #Follow the track to collect the silhouette of Lisbon #When the city becomes a flowing feast