Lisbon (Portuguese: Lisboa) 🇵🇹

Lisboa feels like a memory—soft, golden, slightly out of focus, like something you’re always almost remembering. The city is built on hills, stitched together with cobblestone streets, grilled sardines, and songs of longing that float through the air like dust in sunlight.

It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but Congkai and I somehow spent over 200 euros on canned seafood—sardines, squid, mackerel… all beautifully packaged, all soaked in olive oil. This, from the man who once swore he hated olive oil. Tell me, my dear husband (boyfriend at the time), who was it fighting to fit twenty cans into a carry-on? Every time I think about how hard we struggled to pack them, my teeth still grind with rage.

We arrived at the end of December, right around my birthday—what should have been one of the best days of my life… except Congkai got horribly sick. Yep, that same sardine-loving man—vomiting and rushing to the bathroom like the world was ending. And truth be told, we both felt a little off that whole trip, for reasons we still can’t quite explain.

But even so—there were unforgettable moments: sipping coffee with pastéis de nata in hand, wandering tile-lined streets, laughing in the middle of a grocery store aisle over yet another can of fish, and most importantly, the gelato 🍨. The gelato. It was so good, I wanted to learn Italian just to say thank you properly. I still remember saying “Obrigada” on repeat, like a prayer for another scoop. The gelato here isn’t just dessert—it’s motivation, it's a memory, and honestly, it's one of the top five reasons I considered applying to grad school in Italy.

This journal is for those bittersweet, slightly absurd memories—messy, funny, and entirely ours.

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