Pausing a Moment in Time
If you told me I had no self-control, I wouldn’t feel disrespected. I’d nod in agreement. Once I like something, I obsess over it until I’m sick of it. A restaurant? I’ll order the same dish until I never want to see it again. A city? I’ll visit it so many times you’d think I was a local; besides, why would I ever want to get tired of somewhere I’ve dreamed of going?
For New Year’s, I took a spontaneous trip to Lisbon, Portugal. Random, yet inevitable. I’d always wanted to visit ever since I was a kid obsessed with Manchester United— Cristiano Ronaldo being my idol. I assumed I’d go later in life, once I had my "big boy" job, not as a broke college student. But here I was, booking flights on a whim.
And in true chaotic fashion, I invited a girl I matched with on Hinge. Yes, Hinge. We met in New York, exchanged a few messages, and in the heat of spontaneity, I asked her to come with me. She said yes. As the trip approached, I found her increasingly annoying, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go through with it. But it was too late to back out. So, whatever.
I arrived in Lisbon from London, and there she was at the airport. Annoyance? Forgotten. She looked stunning. The Uber ride to our Airbnb was 22 minutes of disbelief I was finally in Lisbon, and it felt surreal, like stepping into a dream I had rewatched too many times.
After settling in, we grabbed breakfast and wandered around to soak in the city. Praça do Comércio was everything I’d seen on TikTok, but better. Sitting by the sea, planning our evening, I felt the first spark of what was shaping up to be an unforgettable trip. We had dinner reservations at Ponto Final, a restaurant perched right on the Tagus River.
Dressed in my KidSuper AW24 button-down, Lu’u Dan jeans, and Adidas Gazelles, I felt effortlessly cool. A ferry ride and an 11-minute walk later, we arrived at the most beautiful restaurant I’d ever dined at. Dim lights, the sea stretching endlessly, the air tinged with salt and romance. The shrimp and oysters were exquisite, the veal steak tender, but the true highlight? The kiss we shared after dinner. My brain chemistry shifted. I was in my dream country, kissing a Danish model. Life was unfolding like a movie.
New Year’s Eve came, and we spent the afternoon strolling through the markets at LX Factory, eventually making our way to Belém Tower. On the way, we stopped at Manteigaria for the famous pastel de nata—a bite of heaven wrapped in flaky pastry. It was easily the best thing I’d ever tasted. At Belém, we watched a proposal unfold by the river. The moment was so breathtaking, it had me wondering how I’d propose one day.
That night, we were supposed to go clubbing but opted for a cozy evening instead. We grabbed pizza from Pizzeria Romana, where we met a Brazilian family that insisted on having dinner with us. The restaurant had a homey vibe, warm and inviting. Back at our flat, we curled up and watched The Office. The irony wasn’t lost on me—Michael and Jan sharing a kiss in "The Client" episode, while I found myself unable to keep my hands off the girl I once found annoying.
We were so exhausted we fell asleep before midnight. The fireworks at the commercial square woke us. We kissed because it was New Year’s, but this one was different the air was charged with tension, and every touch sent shivers down my spine, drawing me closer to her. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us. Our breaths mingled, hearts beating in unison, as I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of emotions. Every moment was a blend of tenderness and intensity, creating an unforgettable night of shared intimacy.
The next morning, Lisbon felt even more alive. The air crisp, the breeze carrying the scent of fresh beginnings. We had brunch at Seagull Method, where the pancakes were divine, the eggs impossibly fluffy, and the music so perfect it felt like my own playlist. It was one of those meals that made you believe in the magic of breakfast.
As the days passed, we explored more taking a train to Cascais, sitting on the rocks at Boca do Inferno, watching fishermen cast their lines against the crashing waves. Even their outfits caught my eye effortlessly stylish in a way that only locals can be. The women in Portugal? Impeccable dressers.
We indulged in more natas at Time Out Market, then set out for Sintra. A town straight out of a fairytale, with castles, caves, and palaces hidden in misty hills. We took a tuk-tuk to Cabo da Roca, the westernmost point of Europe. Standing at the edge of the continent, watching the sun dip into the Atlantic, I thought if I were to propose, it would be here.
The way back was long an hour on the bus, another on the train. I found a seat for her, choosing to stand and hold her hand through the bumpy ride. On the train, I caught her reflection in the window, mesmerized. Was I starting to like this girl?
Our last night, we reminisced over dinner at Time Out Market, then took a slow, romantic walk back to our flat. The air was thick with something unspoken.
5 AM. Just like that, it was over. I walked her to her Uber, barely managing a quick peck before retreating inside. I didn’t want to dwell on her leaving. I jumped into bed, forcing myself to sleep. When I woke up, she had texted me she landed in Copenhagen.
I went for a run to clear my head, reflecting on everything. That night, I took one last stroll through Lisbon, breathing it all in.
I had done it I had lived my dream of being in Portugal. The emotions overwhelmed me. How do I treasure this? How do I bottle it up and relive it forever? I wished memories could be downloaded, stored, and played on loop. Maybe that’s how I could pause this moment in time, never letting it slip away.
Some photos of some of the places I discussed:
