Lisbon, end of the line

Lisbon is where every westbound route ends and I like arriving the proper way: the night train from Madrid, a compartment shared with a retired teacher and her dog, and Santa Apolónia station at seven with the Tagus already lit. I walked up through Alfama before the trams started and had the Pantheon's steps to myself.

The trams are the point of the city for a rail person. Number 28 is the famous one; number 24 is the one I take, uphill from Cais do Sodré with the windows open. I finished notebook no. 23 on a bench at Miradouro da Graça and bought no. 24 the same afternoon.