Descending in saturation, from Paris to Lisbon. Every stain in the tiles' seams tells me it's not refined. The proportion of Indian and Pakistani people here is high, and local restaurants have a strong Islamic style, with fancy tiles, large blocks of solid-colored wallpaper, and TVs playing news one after another. Desserts are displayed in glass cabinets, reminiscent of childhood with their blue transparent glass and gear-shaped locks. With a blink of an eye, I'm back to my childhood summers, hands resting on the cool iron, leisurely licking ice cream, eagerly awaiting the sweets from the corner shopkeeper. The sunny weather nurtures juicy oranges, which are squeezed into a cup of pure, unimaginable orange juice by a pure iron machine.

In the winding alleyways, on the steep stone paths, one must swing their arms quickly to maintain balance in an exaggerated manner. A slight slip requires the miraculous grip of the big toe to brake in time, just like practicing on the subway.

If the world is an estate, Lisbon is a thicket of weeds with a taste of the sea. You need to personally push through the thicket and actively search for it.

随着饱和度降一个层次的流动，从巴黎降落到里斯本。瓷砖里每个缝隙的兩渍都在告诉我，它并不精致。这里印巴人比例很高，本地餐馆拥有浓郁的伊斯兰风格，花哨的瓷砖，大块纯色的壁纸，一前一后电视机滚动播放着新闻。甜品摆放在玻璃柜内，是小时候那种青色透明玻璃，带着齿轮状锁扣。一晃神，回到了小时候的夏天，双手搭在冰凉的铁片上，慢悠悠舔着冰棍，等待着小卖部大爷拿出来甜品的那种期待。阳光饱满的天气孕育出爆汁的橙子，放入纯铁的机器里，得到一杯纯粹的，令人难以想象的橙汁。

在羊肠小道里，急速下坡的石子路上，不得不快速摆动手臂，以一种夸张的方式维持身体平衡。稍不留神，就得靠大拇脚指的抓地神功，及时刹车，一如平时地铁上的练习。

如果说世界是一座庄园，里斯本就是一片杂草丛生，有海味儿的橙子。需要亲自扑开草丛，主动寻找。