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As we rolled our cases toward the train station, we were serenades by a violinist that chose a spot to play that sent music through alleys and over walls. A man, on a hill, serenading as we wave goodbye. This place has magic.
Not everything was comfortable. The doors and rocks and old stairways older than the Roman Empire could be dodgy. Still, I love the bridge and the boats and the tile and the party tumbling out of cafés and into the streets? Let's see about Lisbon.
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