Memorize a warm hello, please, thank you, and delicious in the local language. Eye contact and an open posture communicate goodwill. In Marseille, my mangled bonjour still softened a fishmonger, who added lemon wedges and advice on grilling sardines to perfection.
Notice whether tables are reserved for diners buying meals rather than drinks. Share sauces without double-dipping. Tip according to custom, not habit. In Athens, rounding the bill triggered a grateful dessert on the house, proving generosity circulates like sea breezes between harbors.
Ask for the check rather than waiting silently; some places never rush guests. Pay at the counter if signaled. Offer thanks to cooks when passing the open kitchen. Leaving with appreciation secures memory, and sometimes a whispered tip for tomorrow’s first batch.
Choose one market, one tasting, and one street-food cluster. Anything extra is a bonus, not a promise. This structure prevents decision fatigue and preserves lingering time. I once lingered over anchovies in Porto, surrendering dessert, yet sailing happier and entirely satisfied.
Check ferry intervals, tram strikes, and rideshare availability before committing. Walk when neighborhoods are compact and safe. Set absolute cutoffs on your watch. A fifteen-minute cushion per stop feels cautious until a sudden downpour arrives; then it feels like seasoned wisdom.
Heat, wind, or rain changes appetites and logistics. Swap hot soups for chilled fruit skewers, switch rooftops to covered arcades, and keep a lightweight poncho ready. Label an alternate market on your map, so a closure becomes discovery rather than disappointment.