I have a confession to make.

I went to Lisbon last week – for a whole week – and I did absolutely nothing.

Well, that’s not strictly true. I ate what seemed like huge numbers of pastéis de nata (custard tarts to you and me) and equally large amounts of grilled sardine. I discovered a taste for the local vinho verde, or green wine. I read three books that had been patiently waiting on my bookshelf for almost six months, and I baked my sun-starved skin on the riverfront every afternoon along with most of the rest of the city. I went to bed late, and got up late, and I danced on the balcony to the reggae that pumped out every evening from the tiny bar downstairs. I didn’t even look at a guide book, or any Lisbon blogs or websites, and the attractions I did see were pretty much…