Guess what the biggest highlight was of my recent short visit to Lisbon?
No, not Alfama, the city’s oldest district, with its winding, naturally ventilated alleyways, cobbled streets, and secret squares. Nor the magnificent Castelo de Sao Jorge, with its thick Moorish walls and lush gardens. Nor even the mouth-watering Pasteis de Nata, the famous freshly baked and cinnamon-dusted custard tarts – yum! No. It was the vintage city trams – those moving wrinkles on Lisbon’s ageless face, the ‘wrinkles’ that, surprisingly, make it both livelier and younger.
Here they were: strewn all over the city like some randomly distributed slices of a giant birthday cake on wheels (the visit to Lisbon coincided with my birthday); trundling past castles and monuments; squeezing themselves into narrow streets like daggers into the sheaths and leaving just a couple of inches’ gap between themselves and the tile-covered façades of the old houses; puffing up and down each of...