Finding the Real Portugal on the Lisbon-Cascais Line

If you were to ask most travelers who have been to Lisbon what they liked best, they might mention the 11^th-century Castelo de São Jorge, towering over the crooked streets of the Alfalma. Or maybe the wide, elegant avenues of the Baixa district, lined with ritzy shops and restaurants. Not to disparage these mainstream attractions—they’re great. But for me, the best part about Lisbon is a cheap, unassuming commuter train running out of the city to the west.

Starting in Cais do Sodré, the Lisbon-Cascais line crawls along the northern bank of the Rio Tejo and then, after that river empties into the Atlantic, next to the ocean itself. Tickets cost €1.60 and can be bought anywhere along the line. The journey takes between 30 and 45min. one way. Along the route to the beach town of Cascais, the train stops at a 15 seaside suburbs, many of them worth a visit of their own. In Belêm, you can climb the famous Tour de Belêm and sample confections at Pasteis de Belêm, the bakery that gave the world the pastel de nata (a delectable custard-filled pastry). Farther along, Estoril has a glitzy casino and good walking along the esplanade. If you want my advice, however, just sit back and look out the window to your left.

There is something truly magical, and a little sad, about that coastline. At one point close to Lisbon, the train passes by a big, rather pompous statue honoring the “Age of Discoveries,” when Portuguese navigators explored the farthest reaches of the known world. The monument isn’t the best sight along the way, but it does do the trick of reminding you that those 15th-century navigators probably enjoyed a very similar view of the sea when they set out from Lisbon to round the southern tip of Africa. And it’s a gorgeous view, especially at sunset. As the train nears Cascais on windy days, waves crash against the esplanade, throwing ocean spray onto the train’s windows.

Many of the best reasons for riding the Lisbon-Cascais line, it is true, might go unnoticed to someone who takes it only once. Like any commuter rail, the train has a culture of its own. It’s a fairly eclectic crew that rides: businessmen, students, tourists, old ladies doing their shopping. When I lived in Portugal back in 2002, there was an old, legless beggar who used to catch the train every day along with the commuters. He had a shoebox for collecting change that he would nudge along as he dragged himself by hand from car to car. (I have no idea if he’s still there today.) Even if all of us commuters did not know one another, everyone knew him. I remember once striking up a conversation with a few fellow passengers speculating (probably a little bit insensitively) about how much he made on his daily route.

That’s the feeling one gets in general when riding the Lisbon-Cascais line: camaraderie, even in the unlikeliest of circumstances. One day as I rode the train home from school, I realized that I had left my pass behind. When the ticket collector got to me and I was empty-handed, she called two policemen over and the three of them stayed with me until we reached Cascais, where the cops hauled me off to the police station.

The most striking thing about the whole experience was not the absurdity of getting arrested because I lacked a ticket costing €1.60 (although that occurred to me as well), but rather how friendly and good-natured everyone was—the ticket-collector, the policemen, the other passengers. As we waited for the train to arrive in Cascais, a woman sitting nearby noted dryly to the policeman that I looked like a very dangerous criminal and that it was a good thing they had caught me. Everyone laughed. All the way to the station, the cops were very chatty and sympathetic. After filling out forms for about an hour at the station, they let me go. I don’t think I ever paid the fine.

            Getting arrested is not something I would recommend, but it somehow struck me as a quintessentially Portuguese experience, in a good way. Everyone was so friendly that I didn’t even mind being drawn into this ridiculous, bureaucratic charade. My experience on the Lisbon-Cascais line was probably a little out of the ordinary, but even the most uneventful ride will give you an authentic slice of Portuguese life.

And if not? Who cares. You’ve arrived in Cascais. Go to the beach.