September 23, 2024. Alfama, Lisbon, Portugal.
Quiosque (kiosk) culture was my favorite thing about Lisbon last time I went here in 2019. Happily, they hit just as good this time.
You can find these small buildings in many parks and plazas in the city. Unlike the U.S. kiosks, it’s not a little stall in a mall that sells cell phone cases.
The classic Portuguese one is hexagonal, with a peaked roof. Kind of Art Nouveau, kind of Moorish looking. It’s painted the ubiquitous dark green color you see a lot of in Lisbon. Two people can work inside it if they don’t mind being in pretty close quarters. There’s a little sink, espresso machine, shelves cluttered with liquor bottles, and some pastries in a case. Open air on 3 sides, windows that slide up.
Generally they’re a pretty cheap, fast place, to get a simple bite or coffee or glass of wine or port. Under the generously sized umbrellas for shade, the vibe is always very chill.
It makes you wonder why all parks don’t have a built in cafe into them. Visitors can’t help but fantasize about how their local park back home could benefit from a quiosque. They activate a space that might otherwise be empty and vacant, and give people a reason to meet their neighbors. I think the little empty park in my neighborhood I wrote about recently could really use one.
I’ve enjoyed several quiosques during the few days I spent in Lisbon, but my current favorite is the one near the flea market in Alfama that looks towards the huge dome of the Panteāo Nacional. There’s a dog park nearby, and sometimes unaccompanied pets wander through the maze of tables and sniff at people’s ankles. The trees are mature and give ample shade.
It’s called Clara Clara Cafe. It was a great place to start the days as a base to do some sketching and reading while having our coffee and sandwiches. (The mozzarella-tomato-pesto one was the best.)
There were at least 3 women reading books by themselves at other tables. To me, that is a signal that this is a Good Place.
This Monday morning, I took my toast and cafe com leite and sat away from the seating area, to get the full view of the structure and surroundings, including my 2 friends at the left table. I used watercolor and colored pencils.
Each quiosque sketching attempt I’ve made has felt like it’s fallen short of the actual cuteness and charm. But I’ll keep trying… because then I can visit more quiosques.
Today, it feels like the quiosques are just a ubiquitous part of Lisbon culture, but it wasn’t a given that they would be around today.
Quiosques de refrescos were very popular as a kind of convenience store/newsstand/bar from the late 1800s-early 1900s, but they were hit hard during the rule of the authoritarian rule of Salazar starting in the 1930s.
People were discouraged, banned, or just plain scared of gathering — meaning running a public space like that wasn’t feasible. After the regime finally ended, tastes changed and the quiosques shuttered for decades.
In the early aughts, journalist/entrepreneur Catarina Portas was tired of seeing these small structures boarded up and falling apart in Lisbon. I imagine it was a depressing reminder of those traumatizing times for Portugal as well. She worked with other food service folks to persuade the city council to open some of them back up.
When the city saw how successful the early ones were, they invested in new quiosques to help revitalize neighborhoods.
Thanks for caring so dang much, Catarina. So many people visit Lisbon from abroad and enjoy these quiosques, I hope they spread throughout the world!
This is a short and simple post for you. It’s raining buckets in Lisbon today so it was a good time to catch up on some work. Now vacation is over, and it’s time to head off to lead a sketching retreat with Jenny in Monsaraz— what a dream!
Here’s us having another little quiosque moment in Lisbon:
More soon.
Eleanor (linktree)
I remember fondly this area of Alfama! Thanks for the memories, and also the interesting history on quiosques.
Thank you for the history lesson and cool sketches!