Lisbon for The Night Owls: a Friday-to-Monday weekend

Sunset with the drummers and the kiosk's beer under the Adamastor, the warm-up for a night that starts at ten.

Kiko's ceviche bar under a giant octopus, no bookings, a queue that moves and a pisco sour while it does.

A bar in a former brothel on Pink Street, velvet, burlesque some nights, open until four; the door is strict about nothing but manners.

Brunch at one in Santos, eggs and sourdough, the only meal before dinner so take the pancakes too.

Wake properly among the warehouses under the bridge: the Ler Devagar bookshop, a coffee on the roof, the Saturday crowd.

Cape Verdean and Angolan bands on the river, dancing from midnight, a kizomba lesson before; the door is friendly and the floor is full.

A late Sunday plate in Cais do Sodré, eggs and a bloody mary, among the people who were at the same places last night.

A bandstand, a kiosk and plane-tree shade on the Estrela side of town: the one daylight sight, taken sitting down with a coffee.

A former chapel lined in eighteenth-century azulejo where dinner is served before the fado begins near midnight.

The club by the river since 1998, three floors and a terrace over the water; the door looks you over, so go as a small group.

Breakfast at the 1905 Chiado café with Pessoa in bronze on the terrace: a bica and a pastel de nata for whoever is still standing.

The one sight: the garden terrace facing the castle, a kiosk coffee, and nothing heavier than that.

Tinned fish on bread and a cold beer in the old tackle shop, a last Pink Street stop before the Aerobus.