Safety Feud Erupts Over Lisbon's Almirante Reis Overhaul

Anyone who has tried to cross Lisbon’s Avenida Almirante Reis at rush hour will understand why tempers are flaring again. Plans to remodel the city’s most densely used boulevard—an axis that stitches together the multicultural squares of Martim Moniz, Alameda and Areeiro—promise fresh trees and smoother traffic, yet a coalition of campaigners says the draft blueprint does the opposite of what the capital needs: it feeds cars and starves everyone else.

An artery where Lisbon tests its future

Over 60,000 vehicles, thousands of bus riders and a growing stream of cyclists squeeze through Almirante Reis daily. The corridor is also the main walking route for residents of Arroios, Penha de França and São Jorge de Arroios, three parishes whose population density rivals the historic centre. Ever since the removal of a central bike lane in 2022 sparked street-level protests, the avenue has become a litmus test for how Lisbon will balance climate goals with local commerce and commuter convenience. The current redesign—unveiled in late 2024, budgeted at €20 M and scheduled to break ground in 2027—has put that balance under scrutiny once again.

The contested blueprints

City planners envision a greener promenade: 370 new trees, 275 extra parking bays, elimination of the concrete median and a continuous green strip from the castle foot to Praça Francisco de Sá Carneiro. Traffic engineers, meanwhile, plot three motor lanes between Martim Moniz and Alameda and four beyond—two of them reserved for buses. A sinuous cycle track would be tucked inside the footpath, forcing riders to weave around café terraces, lamp-posts and, crucially, pedestrians. While officials highlight the added bus priority lanes as proof of public-transport commitment, critics note that the carriageway grows by roughly 50 % in sections where asphalt already dominates.

Seven associations, one message: safety first

The alliance of MUBi, ZERO, Estrada Viva, Caracol POP, Moradores de Arroios, APSI and ACA-M argues that the project “endangers the most vulnerable users.” Their letter, delivered to City Hall this month, calls for wider pavements, a straight-line cycle lane built to national width standards and shorter pedestrian crossings. According to the signatories, forcing people on foot to negotiate three live lanes in one go invites speeding and raises collision risk. They also accuse the municipality of brushing aside the 2,500 contributions gathered in a 2023 participatory process where a majority demanded less, not more, car capacity.

Moedas administration defends its calculus

Mayor Carlos Moedas concedes the debate has become “polarising” but insists the plan reflects “technical evidence and public input.” Deputy mayor for urbanism Joana Almeida stresses that shifting the cycle path to the side unclogs the central vista and eases bus boarding. The council also points to the €13 M first-phase contract—approved last July for design coordination—as proof the scheme remains open to refinement. “We are adding green cover, improving drainage and guaranteeing a protected cycle facility,” Almeida told reporters, framing the layout as a compromise between merchants, commuters and climate activists.

What Lisboners can expect over the next three years

If procurement keeps pace, detailed engineering will run through 2026, with diggers arriving in 2027 and heavy works wrapping up by late 2028. During construction, the municipality plans rolling lane closures and nighttime resurfacing to avoid day-long gridlock. The city’s mobility department is also drafting a detour plan for Carris bus routes 735, 767 and 206, whose schedules hinge on Almirante Reis’s gradient. Yet until revised drawings are published—and safety audits completed—the NGOs say they will lobby councillors and, if necessary, escalate to the national road-safety authority ANSR.

A wider Portuguese conversation

Lisbon is not alone in wrestling with post-pandemic mobility. From Porto’s Avenida da Boavista to Faro’s riverside, Portuguese cities confront the same question: can road capacity grow without eroding walkability? The Almirante Reis saga illustrates how design minutiae—lane widths, tree pits, curb radii—shape livelihoods and emissions alike. For now, the boulevard remains as it is: congested, beloved, and emblematic of a metropolis negotiating its next chapter between car-centric habits and carbon-neutral ambitions.