The Guardian, G2, Food
By Alex Kapranos
I climb the steep Calçada da Glória by the funicular railway tracks, my leather soles slipping off marble cobbles that are like uneven cubes of volcanic ice. One foot goes and I grab the broken rail. This dramatic urban gorge slices through the old town of Lisbon. Graffiti covers the walls in spaghetti swirling scrawls of spray-can anarchist colour. I meet Parker outside Alfaia. The aluminium chair is on such a gradient that, as I sit, I slide into its back.