Ever wonder how our editors travel? In Replica Handbag Store Vacations, you can take a peek at our itineraries, out-of-office style, and trip highlights to see what we wore and where we went—and maybe bookmark some inspiration for a getaway of your own.
The list of restricted liquids in the security line at Lisbon airport is brief, and reads as follows: water, shampoo, aerosols, yogurt. This, I thought, peeling off the sweater I’d been wearing for my seven-hour flight in anticipation of imminent sunlight, is a city that has its priorities straight. Food plays a central role here; there’s a growing crop of Michelin-starred restaurants, if you like that sort of thing, and a hole-in-the-wall shop selling garlicky bifana pork sandwiches around seemingly every corner if you don’t. Personally, I’ve always been extremely food-motivated. So when a friend and I were looking for a relatively warm, relatively East Coast-adjacent spot in which to spend a few days off, it only made sense to put Lisbon at the top of the list.
Despite its status as a European capital and vague conversational claims that “everyone is going to Lisbon,” the city is remarkably low-key. Bustling store-lined streets quickly turn quiet and residential with one turn; you’re never far from an apartment with laundry drying on the line, Portuguese television blaring through open windows, and the smell of something unidentifiably delicious bubbling away on someone’s stove. It’s easy to lean into the local’s slower pace with days of late meals and unhurried wandering—but you also don’t really have a choice; the hilly terrain is not an ally of a rushed itinerary.
Ahead, here’s everything I packed, ate, and shopped during a six-day stint in Lisbon.
The Destination: Lisbon
The Travel Outfit: I have reached full dependency status with my White & Warren travel wrap, and now go nowhere without it; I wear it alternatingly as a shawl and a scarf. That, along with Éterne’s long-sleeve tee, made for easy layers I knew I would wear multiple times on the trip. I am also a staunch believer in plane jeans, and chose a pair from AYR, one of my go-to brands for tall sizing. They hit about mid-rise (wearing jeans on a plane is one thing, but wearing high-waisted jeans on a plane is the mark of a sociopath) and come in the perfect true blue wash.
The Packing List: The climate in Lisbon is mild pretty much year-round, which means I could get away with skirts and even the occasional shorts; provided the latter was worn with tights, in the presence of a terrace heating lamp. I stuck to a uniform of easy-to-mix basics: Intimissimi’s lightweight cashmere top, my vintage leather bomber jacket, wool trousers, and a menswear blue button-down I’ve owned for years. Accessories, like hair pins, silk scarves, and, yes, the aforementioned White & Warren travel wrap (now moonlighting as a pashmina) did a lot of the legwork.
Speaking of: The only wardrobe non-negotiable I’d recommend for a trip to Lisbon? Flat shoes. The cobblestone-lined, ultra-hilly streets are very beautiful, but they would take down an Olympian.
The Hotels: Madonna and I have little in common (I have no musical career, no children, and even fewer Grammys) but here is one thing we now share: We both have stayed at, and adored, Palacio Ramalhete. A converted 17th-century mansion in the quieter, less-touristy district of Lapa, the boutique property is now an incredibly charming 18-room hotel. We started our trip here, ushered to our room with a post-red eye cappuccino, and enjoyed a completely luxurious few days that started with pastéis de nata custard egg tarts at breakfast (sure, why not) and ended with Acqua di Parma beauty products for winding down—all set against a backdrop of blue and purple tile work. It’s the place to stay if you want something a little removed from the center that feels like you’re visiting your fanciest friend.
Which brings us to the second stop of the trip: Palácio Príncipe Real. Built in 1877 and re-opened in 2021 as a hotel, this spot is located centrally in the Príncipe Real area; a peaceful hideaway in the middle of a very busy part of the city, complete with manicured gardens and a quiet pool. The rooms are outfitted with luxuries of both global and local renown: Byredo bath products and Dyson hair tools in the bathroom, port wine and Nau do Cacau chocolate bars in the fridge. (Of personal renown: the beds, which are possibly the most comfortable hotel beds I’ve ever encountered.) It’s a place that feels opulent at each turn; inside, intricate blue and white tiles sit against ochre velvet sofas, and with a stately pink staircase set under an atrium skylight at its center, everything about this place is grand.
The Memorable Meals: As mentioned, Lisbon is a food city—and I have a lot of bookmarks. Our first important meal was at Pica-Pau in Príncipe Real. The reason it’s important is because this is where I fell in love: with a bowl of duck rice, a smoky, savory concoction of shredded duck, sticky rice, and chorizo sausage so delicious it led to many Google searches along the lines of “where to buy beginner-friendly duck in New York City.” For a sit-down breakfast, Etma Bakery is a Scandinavian-inspired spot serving pastries and various egg dishes. It’s owned by the same people behind Pomme Eatery, another highlight specializing in shared plates with an extensive wine list. The menu changes seasonally—my order involved grilled zucchini with whipped feta and flatbread, mushroom croquettes, and a crispy millefeuille potato with anchovy aioli tucked under a blanket of parmesan. We tried to go to lunch at O Velho Eurico, which came highly recommended and looked promising, but couldn’t (tip: queue early or call ahead); instead, we got a taste of a traditional tasca tavern at Melody, during a day trip to Cascais. It’s a cash-only, family-run, paper-tablecloths-and-plastic-menus sort of place, with simple but well-seasoned grilled pork and lots of fresh fish.
There are two final dinners worth mentioning. The first is Cosmo, in the Cais do Sodré area. An ominous warning on the reservation site stating, in no uncertain terms, that “disguises are not allowed” and a front door devoid of signage in a way that suggested a 2016-era Manhattan “speakeasy” made me a little apprehensive, but the menu changed my mind. Once you make it inside the candlelit space, you’re in for a treat: grilled flatbread with red peppers and smoked butter, braised leeks on a bed of velvety romesco, succulent lamb belly skewers, and (my personal favorite) roasted carrots served in a pool of creamy stracciatella with watercress pesto. As my colleague Alex Ditch put it: “You came back from Lisbon talking about those carrots.” I think about them often. The second is Bar Alimentar in Príncipe Real, a cozy Italian-Portuguese fusion bistro where the walls are lined with wine bottles and white taper candles. We shared the spicy lamb croquettes, and then I had a really, truly good risotto: a rich, verdant kale sauce flecked with bits of preserved lemon and briny anchovy. Divine!
The Aperitivo Spot: We stopped by Parra wine bar before dinner one night, a 30-seat bistro in the Madragoa neighborhood awash in peachy pink and rosy marble. You can order food here, but if you’re just in it for a glass of something chilled and a chat, you won’t be disappointed. We ordered a bottle of ruby-colored Vinho Verde, and I learned two things: Vinho Verde does not, in fact, have to be verde, and a chilled red really is an unbeatable wine.
The Shopping Stops: No city on this planet has ever been as enthusiastic about canned tuna as Lisbon; I saw so much tinned fish I began to question whether there was a time in my life before sardines. Conserveira de Lisboa is one option for shopping rows of rainbow-colored trout (a gift for the woman who has everything), and the ever-so-slightly older Silva & Feijóo, which dates back to 1919, is another.
We focused the non-aquatic portion of our shopping on another famous Portuguese export—ceramics. Brus, a tiny boutique just outside of Bairro Alto, offers handmade pottery as well as a small assortment of natural wines. A Vida Portuguesa, a concept store where you’ll find everything from artisanal soaps to local grocery products to brightly colored stationery, is a great place to hunt for presents. And for vintage clothing, I stumbled across the best selection of clip-on earrings this way of the ’80s as well as some suede and leather jackets at A Outra Face da Lua in Baixa. (When you’re done, head up the street to Confeitaria Nacional for a lemon tartlet or a custard-filled Bola de Berlim.)
The Must-Buy Souvenir: On a personal mission for something lace and something tiled (two of the country’s oldest artisanal traditions), I headed to Principe Real Enxovais. This Príncipe Real institution has been around since 1938, with a slew of royal clients to boast about. Just down the road is Solar Antiques, home to a vast assortment of authentic azulejos housed in a labyrinthine shop you could spend hours in. My visions (and budget) were slightly more pedestrian, so I found what I was looking for at the Feira da Ladra, a bi-weekly flea market in Alfama. A twinset of green tiles came home with me, wrapped in newspaper for protection; the lace tablecloth I bought after negotiating with a sweet Portuguese shopkeeper mostly through mime and meaningful eye contact is now a prized possession.
The Travel Bags: This was my Parker Thatch Jack tote’s maiden voyage; spacious, secure, and stylish, it hits all the marks. (Mine is done in chocolate suede, which is tragically no longer available, though I have it on good authority that it should be re-stocked in the fall. In the meantime, the burgundy version is also on my radar.) My friend, blessed with baggage allowance on her separate flight, very kindly offered to bring my Away suitcase with her—which meant this tote and I spent a lot of time alone together, and I found it had more than enough room for me to cram in everything I needed for long travel days.
