SpiceLines

The sun came out.

We started climbing through the narrow, labyrinthian streets of the Alfama, the highest and most ancient part of the city. Once ruled by the Romans and the Moors, retaken by the Portuguese King Afonso I during the Reconquista, it was the only part of the capital to survive the earthquake of 1755, a cataclysm which almost wiped Lisbon off the map.

It's in older sections like this where tiles still run riot...

The word azulejos comes not from azul, which means "blue," but from the Arabic al zulaycha or zuleija, which means "a little polished stone"--referring perhaps to the Moorish practice of laying tiny mosaic tiles in dazzling geometric patterns. (In Morocco this type of tile work is known as zellij.)

The very first azulejos came to Portugal from Seville very early in the 16th century century. In the Islamic tradition, they were largely non-representational and used a very precise geometry to create intricate symmetrical patterns.

In Portugal, the tiles soon took on a life of their own. Hand-painted leaves and flowers twirled their way into the designs, while hues of blue and yellow became popular.

Animals and birds, such as this exotic parrot from a 17th century polychrome panel, began to populate the landscape.

And finally came the human form: angels, saints and all the company of heaven.

Like the Moors, the Portuguese developed an abhorrence of emptiness, the urge to cover every visible inch with decorative glazed tiles. At the Igregia de Sao Vicente de Fora, sweeping murals of blue and white azulejos embellish patios and broad staircases.

In the cloisters of Sao Vicente, thirty-eight 18th century panels depict the fables of La Fontaine, the 17th century writer whose tales display an intimate, often ironic view of human nature.

As I wandered the streets of Lisbon, I began to see that whole facades had been stripped of their tiles. But patches of repetitive, almost pulsating design can still be found...

in neighborhoods like Belem, the old port from which explorers such as Vasco da Gama sailed on voyages of discovery...

And in the fashionable Chiado district, now slightly down at the heels.

Sometimes borders of azulejos are the only embellishment on a naked wall.

Sometimes you just have to look up. The third window is a really a tile panel depicting a yellow bird in a cage.

And though some of the most beautiful tiles are crumbling to dust...

Contemporary artists are giving traditional azulejos...

a modern spin...

And sometimes reinventing them altogether.