My Portuguese Empire myth came from music: Cesaria Evora and Jobim and others. Music that was a dialogue of other times. It is a surprise then to learn that the Alfama also continues to be a center for that old Portuguese-style blues; the fado. And even with the pattering of rain, you can hear some old man crooning or a guitarre picking behind some alley or courtyard.
The rain is pouring heavily now, and we're treading along the streets to the Alfama District.
We stop in a small cafe - there seem to be thousands of such cafes in this city - and we share a coffee and a bowl of fruit.
When Jane and I stepped into Lisbon, I stepped into my Portuguese Empire. Lisbon really is that cobbled city of my imagination, and the Alfama, being the last standing of old Lisbon, is the epitomy of my imagined Portuguese Empire.
