Few cities are defined by disaster, quite like Lisbon. It’s a potent dynamic that courses its way into virtually every aspect of the city’s narrative. I don’t know if Christchurch will have a similar frame of reference in 360 years time, but Lisbon’s story is graphically underpinned by the 1755 catastrophe, when a 9-mag earthquake and monster tsunami, obliterated much of the city and a 100,000 lives. The earthquake was apparently felt from Turkey to Iceland.

The legacy of the disaster was Lisbon’s rebirth as such a visually seductive city. The ruling king wanted Lisbon to rival the elegance of Europe’s big capitals, so no expense was spared constructing leafy boulevards, frothy fountains and acres of art nouveau architecture.

It’s best exemplified by strolling down the oh-so Parisian expanse of Avenida de Liberdade, flanked by lofty architectural confections, furnished in wave- patterned tile mosaic sidewalks and shaded with leafy plane trees. Central Lisbon sprawls itself across seven hills, most of which you can scale on a trademark-yellow funicular or tram.

Alternatively, you can access the nightspot-mecca barrio of Bairra Alto, where traditional fado music wafts from the taverns, via the Santa Justa elevator. This mega-sized outdoor elevator is a riot of wrought iron, a sort of ‘Dr Seuss goes Gothic’ folly.  Built in 1849 as a novelty, by one of Gustave Eiffel’s star pupils, it’s a kooky looking contraption, but definitely worth a ride.

One of the few great earthquake survivors is the cloud-piercing St. George’s Castle, which is from where the Romans, Goths, Moors, Crusaders and Portuguese monarchy have all respectively ruled the roost. It’s a stunning perch from which to scan the skyline of terracotta roofs. At the foot of the castle, take an exploratory wander through Lisbon’s oldest residential district, Alfama, which still has a very strong North African vibe and fantastic eateries.

Amongst this tangle of undulating cobblestone lanes, you’ll find Lisbon’s finest azulejos, the famed Portuguese hand-painted ceramic tiles, that lustily deck the city’s halls, walls and facades with finesse. The tiles are one of the great Arab legacies of Moorish rule in Portugal, and bagging a few of these bargain square-shaped artworks makes for a winning souvenir.

Head west to the riverside suburb of Belem,  Portugal’s gateway to the world, during its Golden Age of discovery and colonial conquest. Marvel at Belem Tower, the magnificent medieval fort which served as the port’s watch tower. Nearby, the Monument to the Discoveries  is a stirring sculptural salute to Portugal’s famed explorers like Vasco de Gamma and Ferdinand Magellan, from where they set sail. Pop across the road, to Jeronimos Monastery, where many explorers would pray for safe voyage. It’s a miracle this incredibly ornate building was left unscathed by the quake.

If you’re a devotee of the custard egg tart, you must go to the cherished old pastry shop, Fabrica de Pastesis de Belem. They are the sole custodians of the original secret egg tart recipe, which were actually created by the monks from Jeronimos monastery, in the late 17th century.  At the time, most convents and monasteries used large quantities of egg-whites for starching of clothes, such as nuns' habits. It was common practise to use the leftover egg yolks to make cakes and pastries, resulting in the proliferation of sweet pastries throughout Portugal. Following the abolition of Portugal’s religious orders as a result of the Liberal Revolution in 1820, the monks started selling pastesis de nata at a nearby sugar refinery to make some dosh. In 1834 the monastery was closed and the recipe was sold to the sugar refinery, whose owners in 1837 opened the Fabrica de Pastesis de Belem.

Family descendants still run the pastry shop, today. For the past 180 years, locals and visitors have swooned on the bakery to savour oven-fresh pasteis, sprinkled with cinnamon and powdered sugar. Be warned, there can be obsessively long lines of eager buyers! You may well have come across pasteis de nata in colonial Portuguese colonial enclaves like Macau, which spread to Hong Kong. Sample the real deal original, from the cradle of the craze. Fabrica de Pasteis de belem is the holy shrine for the custard egg tart.  

TOP TIP?

The cheapest ride into the city? Don’t fritter your money on an airport taxi. Simply follow the signs to the Lisbon metro, jump on board a high-frequency train, and you can zip yourself into the heart of the city in 20 minutes, with easy connections to get you close to your hotel doorstep. Metro fare? Just Euro 1.40!

Mike Yardley is Newstalk ZB’s Travel Correspondent on Jack Tame Saturdays. 11.20am.