Lisboa

Rising grandly over the scrappy, shipyard-charm of Almada, Lisbon's Cristo Rei statue stands with arms outstretched, as if perpetually asking, "Lisbon, seriously, have you been drinking porto again?" Modeled shamelessly after Rio's Christ the Redeemer-Portugal's friendly nod (or cheeky jab) at their South American cousins-this towering tribute was completed in 1959 as a strangely endearing gratitude for keeping Portugal out of WWII. Ascend in the late afternoon, preferably on a weekday, when golden rays conveniently soften Lisbon's bustling urban edges, bathing the city across the glistening Tagus in an Instagram-worthy glow (cue angelic chorus). Purchase your ticket on-site (around €6), pack a good jacket-it's windier up there than a budget airline landing-and set aside an hour or two for the pilgrimage. Even the most hardened traveler will feel a strange reverence (or maybe that's just vertigo) gazing down at Lisbon's terracotta rooftops, mazy alleyways, and postcard-perfect panoramas. And even if religious icons or dizzying altitude aren't exactly your thing, trust me-standing on the shoulders of Portugal's gigantic holy host is well worth it, because stories featuring giant concrete Messiahs are invariably crowd-pleasers back home at the pub.

High in the misty hills of Sintra-Portugal's fairy-tale realm and favored haunt of aristocratic romantics and eccentric royals-perches Pena Palace. A delightful clash of colors and architectural whimsy, this place looks suspiciously like what would happen if Gaudi hosted a cocktail party for Walt Disney, Lewis Carroll, and an overly enthusiastic Bavarian prince. Built atop a former monastery site, the palace blends Moorish details, Gothic spires, and candy-colored Romanticism so flamboyantly eclectic it practically mocks dull, restrained taste. Aim for an early morning assault-beating not just the crowds but the midday fog that can roll in like a moody novelist. Book tickets at least a week ahead unless you savor long lines or the frustrated faces of fellow procrastinators. Pack layers (the microclimate up here is as unpredictable as palace decor), sturdy shoes for cobblestone paths, and snacks-tourist-trap cafes await to lighten your wallet and darken your mood. Budget roughly €14 for standard entry and extra a few euros if you want the privilege of wandering the lavish antique-filled interiors. Sure, it's touristy, overpriced, and borderline excessive-but trust me, stumbling through royal bedrooms painted like lemon sherbet and watermelon sorbet is absolutely worth the absurdity. Do it for the view, do it for Instagram bragging rights, and above all, do it because how often in life do you get to say you wandered inside a Portuguese king's extravagant fever dream?

Hiking through Sintra-Cascais Natural Park isn't your average stroll through the woods-it's more like stepping into an epic Portuguese fairytale, scripted by Mother Nature after three glasses of vinho verde. Here, trails weave impishly between emerald forests and jaw-dropping coastal cliffs, taking you past castle ruins straight out of a Byzantine fever dream and ocean vistas that might just make you consider quitting your job for a hut by the sea. Start early-trust me, by noon the tourist buses unload selfie-stick battalions-but if you hit the trail at sunrise, you'll have the misty hills practically all to yourself, save for a couple of smugly photogenic goats. Plan ahead just enough to download a map (cell service can be spotty), throw a water bottle, sturdy shoes, and some pastel de nata into your backpack, and prepare to spend 4-5 soul-resetting hours. Expect to invest little more than a train ticket from Lisbon and a modest pastry budget-but pack a bit extra, since post-hike you'll likely justify splurging shamelessly on fresh seafood and chilled vinho overlooking the Atlantic, because you've "earned it." Even if you're the type whose hiking boots are suspiciously pristine, do it anyway. At the very least, you'll have a spectacular tale about getting lost near an abandoned 19th-century mansion or being intimidated by a stubborn Portuguese goat named Joao-and isn't that the whole point?