Tue, June 2 — Lisbon arrival. Parents landed early, Marco & Havana mid-afternoon, everyone settled into Hotel Roma. Evening highlight: the private tuk-tuk run through Alfama — Sé Cathedral, the Santa Luzia viewpoint, the maze of old Moorish streets at golden hour.
Wed, June 3 — Belém day. The 9:00 AM group tour got away from you (the alarm lost that one), so you pivoted to a private Belém tuk-tuk tour with guide Sam, who scooped everyone up at the hotel. You saw Belém Tower, took photos outside the Jerónimos Monastery, and stood over the giant compass-rose mosaic at the Monument of the Discoveries. Best bite of the day: the original Pastéis de Belém custard tarts (a unanimous win). Havana knocked out some shopping at the European stores she'd scouted; the bacalhau pastel split the table — Pepin loved it, Marco found it too salty. Dinner was Time Out Market: Marco's garlicky frango sandwich stole the show.
🛳️ And of course — Pepin's running joke kept going all night: Vasco da Gama sailed all the way to India for spices, and somehow the food still came back tasting bland. (Historically cheeky, since it was exactly that spice money that paid for Jerónimos.)
Breakfast and checkout at Hotel Roma, then south. You'll drive down through the Algarve for a short stop (~2h) in Tavira, continue roughly two more hours across the Spanish border to Seville, and check into the Silken Al-Andalus Palace. Then the centerpiece: 7:00 PM — the Corrida del Corpus Christi at the Real Maestranza.
Tavira is the Algarve town people mean when they say "the Algarve before the Algarve got famous" — whitewashed houses, hipped "tesoura" rooftops, tile façades, and a sleepy river instead of a strip of resorts. It sits on the Gilão, and its layers go deep: a Phoenician trading post, then Roman, then a Moorish stronghold (the Moors held it until 1242). The little Ponte Romana you'll cross is traditionally called the "Roman bridge," though the arches you see are mostly medieval rebuilds on Roman foundations — the river has knocked it down and the town has rebuilt it more than once.
Once you cross the Guadiana, the dial changes. Same euros, no border fuss — but the rhythm shifts to Spanish: later lunches (2–3 PM), later dinners (9–10 PM), and the soft, consonant-dropping andaluz accent that swallows the "s" at the ends of words (you'll hear "graciah" for gracias). Andalusia is the most Moorish corner of Spain — eight centuries of Al-Andalus left their fingerprints on the food, the architecture, even the word "olé." First thing to try: a cold gazpacho or salmorejo as the heat climbs, and proper jamón. Seville will feel hotter, louder, and more theatrical than Lisbon — and tonight it earns the reputation.
The Plaza de Toros de la Real Maestranza is the most beautiful bullring in Spain and, alongside Madrid's Las Ventas, its spiritual home. Begun in 1761 and built slowly over more than a century, its white-and-ochre arcades and oval "albero" sand are instantly recognizable. Tonight is genuinely historic: the Corrida del Corpus Christi returns to the Maestranza after a 16-year absence, restored to the 2026 calendar — and it's reportedly sold out ("no hay billetes"), televised to the rest of Spain.
The cartel is an all-art bill of the three most quintessentially Sevillian matadors of their generation: Morante de la Puebla, Juan Ortega and Pablo Aguado. Morante — born just outside Seville in 1979 — is the most artistically influential torero of the last twenty years, famous for a slow, classical, deliberately old-fashioned style; critics call him the closest living link to the legends Belmonte and Joselito. He came out of retirement last year, and in a twist that has all of Spain talking, he was gored at this very ring back in April and returned to the sand. The Maestranza is, as they say, his cathedral.
A nationwide general strike on June 3 — the second in six months — brought Portugal to a near-standstill over the government's labour-reform package. The Lisbon Metro closed for roughly 31½ hours, 500+ flights were disrupted, schools shut, and hospitals ran skeleton night shifts. The CGTP union called it a major success; the government said most workers stayed on the job. Good news for your travel day: normal Metro and rail service was due back from early this morning — though unions have hinted more strikes could come.
PM Pedro Sánchez's government is beginning the groundwork for the 2027 national budget this week, with Finance Minister Arcadi España before Congress. It comes while the Socialists are still smarting from losing last month's Andalusian regional election — the region you're driving into tonight — where the PP is expected to govern. Separately, the PM's brother David Sánchez was due back in court in Badajoz over a contested public hiring.
Fitting for your evening — Corpus Christi processions are filling Spanish cities today (Toledo's is the most famous). Meanwhile La Roja plays a pre-World Cup friendly against Iraq, and Barcelona's Primavera Sound festival is mid-run with Doja Cat, Bad Gyal and Massive Attack. The country is in full early-summer festival mode.
Should Spain keep protecting bullfighting as official cultural heritage?
Why it's live right now: tonight's Corrida del Corpus returns to Seville's Maestranza after 16 years and is sold out — even as star matador Morante was gored at that same ring in April, and as the Culture Ministry's 2024 move to scrap the National Bullfighting Prize still rankles. Polls show record numbers of Spaniards now oppose la corrida, yet big-name bills keep selling out.
It's a centuries-old art form and a legally protected part of Spain's cultural patrimony — not a relic to be legislated away. Regional leaders like Madrid's Isabel Díaz Ayuso and the Fundación Toro de Lidia argue the State shouldn't ideologically erase a tradition that sustains rural economies and the dehesa grasslands where fighting bulls are raised. When the Culture Ministry dropped the national prize, the Senate and nine regions simply created their own — a sign, supporters say, of how deep the roots run. And the sold-out, youthful crowds at bills like tonight's are their evidence it's alive, not dying.
A majority of Spaniards now oppose bullfighting, and critics — animal-welfare groups and figures in the governing left coalition — say public money and official honours shouldn't prop up the killing of bulls for sport. Culture Minister Ernest Urtasun framed scrapping the national prize as the State simply getting out of the business of celebrating it. Catalonia and the Canary Islands have already banned corridas; opponents argue the rest of the country is heading the same way, and that "heritage" shouldn't be a shield against changing values.
Where it might land: no national ban is on the table — the fight is over official status and public support, region by region and prize by prize. Tonight's packed Maestranza is exactly the flashpoint both sides point to.
Havana — here's your talking point for any Spanish kid you meet: "¿La corrida es arte o crueldad?" You'll get a real answer, and probably an argument.
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