The Cascais coast is where Lisbon comes to reset. Checked into a small pensão right above the beach. Spent mornings with coffee and fresh pastéis, afternoons reading bad novels on rocks. Swam in the Atlantic once — it was colder than expected but clarifying.
There’s a rhythm here that doesn’t exist in the city. The waves mark time differently. By day three I stopped checking my phone. By day five I forgot what day it was entirely. That felt like progress.
Leaving Portugal tomorrow. Need to sit with this properly. Three weeks isn’t enough. Three years wouldn’t be enough.