Leiria doesn't often top Portugal itineraries, but one family's decision to ditch the shopping centre on a drizzly afternoon turned into an urban wildlife safari and a fresh appreciation for one of the country's most overlooked district capitals.

The writer behind this personal essay admits to years of defaulting to Leiria Shopping instead of the city itself. This time, the family parked in an unfamiliar old quarter and explored on foot — cobbled, terraced streets of three-storey buildings, small independent businesses, and a slightly wobbly glass bridge spanning the River Lis.

The river stole the show. A heron stood poised on one leg in the shallows, ducks patrolled comically nearby, and large fish glided below. Then came the highlight: a kingfisher flashing electric blue across the water before plunging for its lunch, with a white egret fishing further along and even a water rat scurrying on the bank. Not bad for a city centre.

Beyond the bridge lie alleyways, some faded and graffiti-covered buildings, and the riverside park locals call Parque do Avião — named for the twin-engined Beechcraft C-45 Expeditor, a former Portuguese Air Force plane installed there in the 1970s. The plane took a beating during Storm Kristin and has been removed for restoration, while the park itself undergoes a revamp. Leiria officially brands itself a 'City of Play', and it shows: innovative play equipment (including a swing built for a parent and child together), a basketball court, a skatepark, and cafés along the river valley.

Look up from the park and the city's castle crowns the hill — a national monument with real history, and, for newer residents, the once-housed immigration office (formerly SEF, now AIMA) that generations of arrivals will remember with a shudder. The writer's own memories of licence exchanges at the IMT office add a wry, expat-eyed layer to the piece.

The takeaway is simple and relatable: on damp days it's tempting to retreat to an air-conditioned mall of chain stores and food courts. But Leiria's streets reward curiosity — architecture, independent commerce, wildlife, playgrounds at every turn, and even what the author rates a contender for Portugal's best McDonald's, built ingeniously into a slope. For travellers passing between Lisbon and Porto, or exploring the Silver Coast, it's a nudge to stop, park the car, and walk.