One of my favorite ways to see new places on a budget is through a layover. Normally, layovers are terrible – you’re stuck in an airport for hours, eating overpriced food, taking naps on uncomfortable chairs, and battling boredom. But if you book a flight with a long enough layover, that boredom can turn into adventure. Such was the case with my recent flight from Florence to the United States, which included a 24-hour stop in Lisbon, Portugal.

I had checked that Portugal didn’t require a visa for short visits, booked a hostel bed, and got excited for my mini adventure. Join me for this layover – I promise it’s more interesting than the usual airport slog.

Arrival and first impressions

After landing in Lisbon, I navigated to the city by train. Even at first glance, it was beautiful. I love observing the color palette of each city I visit: London is greys, reds, and deep emerald green. Florence is cream, copper, and black. Lisbon was fresh and bright – cerulean, peach, white, and sage. The sidewalks were patterned in black and white stones, with different designs on every street.

One thing I hadn’t accounted for was the hills. I planned to drop my backpack at the hostel before heading to my first scheduled activity. My navigation app estimated a 10-minute walk—but failed to mention that it was nearly all uphill at a 45-degree angle.

With no time to spare, I tackled the many sets of stairs. By the time I arrived – sweating profusely and panting like a dog in July – the hostel receptionist took one look at me and offered a glass of water. “Yes, please,” I gasped.

After a refreshing drink, a brief tour, and dropping off my heavy pack, I headed back down the hill. The return walk was much easier, and even though I was cutting it close, I couldn’t resist stopping for a few photos.

Food and wine tour

As it was the last day of my trip, I had treated myself to something special: a food and wine tour of Lisbon. I’m no amateur – I’ve been on several tours before and always enjoyed them.

This one was no different. We walked through the city center as our guide led us to various restaurants and specialty shops. At one stop, we tried Portugal’s famous “vinho verde”—a young “green wine” made from underripe grapes – paired with a fried herring fish cake. Lisbon, being Portugal’s largest port city, has a deep maritime history. Explorers like Ferdinand Magellan once launched from these shores, and salted herring was a staple of those long voyages. That tradition lingers in the cuisine today. One shop displayed enormous stacks of salted fish for sale.

We continued sampling Lisbon’s culinary heritage: port, wine, cheese, sausage, seafood, ginja (a sour cherry liquor), and roasted chicken with peri-peri sauce. Each item came with a story and a deep cultural connection. Along the way, I met fellow travelers from England, Ireland, Germany, Hawaii, and California. Though from different corners of the world, we bonded over our shared taste of Lisbon.

Cathedral and Church of St. Anthony

Satisfied and happy, I said goodbye to my new friends and made my way to Lisbon Cathedral and the nearby Church of St. Anthony. Since I’d be traveling most of the next day (Sunday), I was hoping to attend a Vigil Mass. Unfortunately, the online information was wrong, and the cathedral was closing for the day. Still, I managed to slip inside for a few moments – just long enough to visit one sacred spot I had long wanted to see.

St. Anthony, the famous Franciscan friar and patron saint of lost things, was born in Lisbon in 1195. Though Italians call him St. Anthony of Padua, the Portuguese claim him rightfully as their own – St. Anthony of Lisbon. In the back of the cathedral is the font where baby Anthony was baptized. I knelt there in prayer. My main intention for this patron of lost things? That he might help me find a Vigil Mass!

I then crossed the street to the Church of St. Anthony, built atop his childhood home. It’s a beautiful and ornate church – more decorative than the austere cathedral. Sadly, there was no Mass there either. I offered another prayer to the saint and pressed on.

Lost and found

After burning through some precious cell data, I tracked down another nearby church with a hopeful schedule. In Lisbon, the phrase “walking up and down the streets” is very literal – if you’re not climbing, you’re descending. As I walked, I occasionally glimpsed the sea through narrow alleys. The sun dipped lower, and the city began to light up for the evening.

Thanks to St. Anthony, I finally found a church with a vigil Mass. Perched on a hilltop, it had a baroque interior and a peaceful presence. Though I couldn’t understand the Portuguese homily, I worshiped quietly and offered a prayer of thanksgiving – for my journey, and for a saint who still helps travelers today.

The Sea and sunset

It felt right to end the day at the sea. I wandered down Lisbon’s patterned sidewalks toward the water. Music played nearby, and crowds of young people sat watching the sunset over the Atlantic. I strolled slowly, reflecting on salted fish and lost saints.

As night fell, I made my way back uphill to the hostel. Walking through an unfamiliar city is hard enough in daylight – I didn’t want to risk getting lost after dark. The return was slow, partly due to the incline, but mostly because I kept stopping to take in the beauty around me. The pastel buildings glowed softly, merging with the colors of the setting sun.

Back at the hostel, I pulled on a sweater against the evening chill and stepped onto the terrace. Below me, the city sparkled with light. Tomorrow I would board a train to the airport, then a long flight to Washington, D.C. My adventure would be over.

But for now, I sat quietly, savoring the fleeting joy of one of the best layovers I’ve ever had.