Alfama is the tangle of lanes on the eastern flank of the castle hill, and it was never designed for wheels. The alleys are stepped, the doorways stand barely a shoulder's width apart, and the squares are small. Laundry hangs across the street, cats lie on the warm stone, and the domes of São Vicente and the Pantheon rise above the roofline. The best way to use it is to put the map away and take the downhill turning at every junction.
It looks the way it does for a geological reason. The rest of the lower city was built on soft ground and came down in the earthquake of 1755, while this quarter sits on compact bedrock, so it held and kept its Moorish street plan. It was a fishermen's and dockworkers' quarter for centuries and poor for most of them, and the small fado rooms that are still here came out of that. In June the whole district goes outside for the Santo António festival, with sardines on grills in the doorways and tables in the street.