The Lemon Tree Square

I was born there, lived there for two years and hovered around it for another 18. The “Largo do Limoeiro” as per its original name (only translated) is located in what is known today as one of the main Lisbon reference neighbourhoods. Overlooking Alfama, fado birthplace, the Portuguese key song genre.

It was also my grandparents place until they passed. It was an old building right in the main square.

I can still smell the old wooden cricky stairs going up. No lift, barely any light, just three flights of quirky stairs. The whole building was quirky. It never made much sense to me how it was originally projected, the entrance to each part of the building doesn’t really naturally flow. It’s actually surprising that it is still standing…

I have vivid memories of me on that left side window throwing rice at the pidgeons on the roof top that we oversaw, whilst my grandfather rolled up one of his Drum cigarettes next to me. And yes, I can still remember the smell of that nasty thing…

The old Lemon Tree prison across the road (which I never knew as a prison but as a Law Studies’ Centre, across the road saw students going in and coming out every day. It could get really busy, cars parked everywhere on the road. Lisbon is known for the constant struggle for a road that accommodates trams, when people often desperately park their cars inconsiderately, and sometimes too close for a tram to get through. Beautiful, old, narrow roads, made with a combination of basalt tiles and tarmac (I guess the tiles are a higher maintenance in cost), but not prepared for so much traffic at any one time.

Loved peaking out the window at the back, being able to see other houses back yards, and underneath. Sometimes I would peak around dinner time (when I stayed over) and still remember listening to people giggling and the live music coming from the restaurant/bar in the ground floor. And yes, I could smell the food, through a warm ventilation brise…

I lived there for another year, on my first year at Uni. At the time there were only living there my grandparents and my olders aunt, who never married. Worked for the St. Anthony’s Church, nearby, basically does all the admin and assistance to the priests and sisters in the church. Also looked after the church shop. My mom told me she got her heart broken when she was young and decided to never marry or get involved with another man again. And she didn’t. She took refuge in religion and loved her nieces and nephews as her own.

Unfortunately that also made her a very obcessive, controlling and bitter person. After a year at Uni and having found a new job, my boyfriend at the time and I decided to rent a house together. I needed the freedom and wanted to leave in good terms. I would still go and visit, check on my grandparents, but never stayed there again…