Starbucks has a bad rap when it comes to theft. Customers focus on their drinks, their conversations, their open computers, and thieves know it. A busy coffee shop is a mess of people coming and going, pushing between crowded tables, standing waiting, looking for seats, looking for friends, looking for loose objects…

Bob and I were in Lisbon’s bustling Starbucks, waiting for its broken internet to come back on (it never did). One lucky customer had found a nice corner with a power outlet and had dragged a chair over. He was opening his laptop when… his phone disappeared.

His reaction caught our attention, but we were dismayed that the perp hadn’t. We consider it our business to spot thieves before they strike. This time, we failed. We never saw him.

The victim said he’d set his phone down only a minute ago. Sitting beside the milk and sugar station, he hadn’t worried about the constant human traffic.

Bob looked up and saw a surveillance camera. “Get them to show you the video,” he urged the victim. But Starbucks’ manager refused to access the video unless the victim filed a police report. The victim threw up his hands in frustration. He didn’t want to spend his short time in Lisbon dealing with police and looking at surveillance tapes. He walked out.

“It’s only getting worse,” a security guard told us. He was positioned just outside the old elevator tower. “We see them every day;” he was referring to the city’s pickpockets. They don’t necessarily ride the elevator. It’s just a short walk up the hill to the lift’s viewpoint, and that’s where they wait for their prey.

That was corroborated by the security guard who keeps watch on the elevator tower. She seemed fascinated by their chosen profession, picking up on many details that others in the security business miss. All she can do when she sees pickpockets though, she said, is warn the visitors and shoo the thieves away.

It’s been two years since our last visit to Lisbon. Tram lines 15 and 28 are as crowded and infested as they were then. More buildings are boarded up and the city looks worse than ever.

Lisbon looks terribly dilapidated, its glory days over, deteriorating as we watch. Its structures are still grand, but they’re dressed like homeless derelicts, with the same empty-eyed glower, all dignity and self-respect burned off by neglect.

To quote myself.

On the other hand, the sidewalks are still spectacular.