The avenue could become something it has never been
Em Lisboa, o presidente da câmara Carlos Moedas comprometeu-se a repensar a ciclovia da Avenida Almirante Reis — não por decreto, mas por diálogo. Herdada de uma decisão tomada em silêncio durante a pandemia, a via tornou-se símbolo de uma cidade dividida entre mobilidade e memória. Moedas propõe uma pausa antes da solução: ouvir primeiro, decidir depois — uma aposta na governação como conversa, não como imposição.
- A Avenida Almirante Reis funciona hoje com uma única faixa por sentido, criando congestionamentos reconhecidos pela polícia e pelos bombeiros como um problema real de segurança.
- A ciclovia foi instalada pelo anterior presidente Fernando Medina durante a pandemia, sem consulta pública, gerando ressentimento nos residentes e alimentando um debate que persiste meses depois.
- Moedas herdou o problema três meses após tomar posse, sem um plano concreto, mas com uma promessa de campanha explícita: redesenhar a rede ciclável de Lisboa com foco na segurança e na função.
- O autarca anunciou uma abordagem em duas fases — medidas imediatas para atenuar a disfunção atual e um redesenho profundo da avenida a longo prazo, incluindo o possível alargamento da via.
- Está pendente uma avaliação de segurança do Laboratório Nacional de Engenharia Civil, cujos resultados deverão abrir caminho para as decisões seguintes.
Carlos Moedas apresentou-se perante os jornalistas no início de fevereiro com uma promessa sobre uma das ruas mais polémicas de Lisboa. A Avenida Almirante Reis, disse, podia tornar-se algo que nunca foi — mas só depois de a cidade ouvir quem nela vive e trabalha.
A avenida transformara-se num campo de batalha simbólico. A ciclovia instalada pelo seu antecessor Fernando Medina durante a pandemia surgiu sem aviso e sem consulta pública, numa altura em que poucos podiam contestar. O resultado foi uma via comprimida, com uma faixa por sentido, que não serve bem nem automóveis nem ciclistas. Polícia, bombeiros e residentes partilham o mesmo diagnóstico: a situação não funciona.
Moedas tinha prometido em campanha resolver exatamente este problema. Mas três meses depois de tomar posse, o que tinha não era um plano — era um método. Consultaria a associação de moradores, a junta de freguesia, os ciclistas, os engenheiros. Só depois decidiria. O contraste com a abordagem anterior era deliberado: onde Medina agira em silêncio, Moedas escolhia agir em conversa.
O que descreveu foi uma solução em dois tempos. A curto prazo, medidas rápidas para corrigir a disfunção imediata. A longo prazo, um redesenho mais ambicioso — alargar a avenida, dar-lhe um perfil diferente, criar espaço para todos. Evocou a Avenida da Liberdade e a Avenida da República como referências de vias que pertencem verdadeiramente à cidade. A Almirante Reis, disse, tem significado cultural e uma abertura que importa preservar. Mas ninguém podia afirmar que estava em boas condições.
A cidade aguarda ainda a avaliação de segurança do Laboratório Nacional de Engenharia Civil. Só com esse relatório em mãos, explicou Moedas, o trabalho real poderia começar. A questão que permanece em aberto é se a consulta mudará genuinamente o resultado — ou se é apenas uma forma mais consensual de chegar à mesma conclusão. A avenida continua a precisar de solução. E alguém, no fim, poderá ter de ceder.
Carlos Moedas, president of Lisbon's city council, stood before reporters in early February and made a promise about one of the city's most contentious streets. The Avenida Almirante Reis, he said, could become something it has never been—but only if the city listened first.
The avenue had become a flashpoint. Three months into his tenure, Moedas inherited a bike lane that his predecessor, Fernando Medina, had installed during the pandemic without public input. The street itself had been squeezed: reduced to a single lane in each direction, it now moved neither cars nor cyclists well. Police knew it. Firefighters knew it. Residents certainly knew it. The bike lane was supposed to make the avenue safer and more livable. Instead, it had created gridlock and resentment.
Moedas had campaigned on fixing exactly this problem. His coalition, "Novos Tempos," had promised to redesign Lisbon's bike network with an emphasis on safety and function, explicitly naming Almirante Reis as a problem to solve. But three months in, he had no plan. What he had instead was a method: he would ask people what they wanted before deciding.
This was deliberate contrast. Medina's bike lane had appeared without warning, imposed from above during lockdown when few could object. Moedas was saying he would do the opposite—he would consult the neighborhood association, the local parish council, the cyclists themselves, the engineers. He would take time. "It's important for the city," he said, "but it's not something that happens overnight."
What he was describing was a two-stage fix. In the short term, something quick to address the immediate dysfunction—the traffic that wasn't moving, the safety that wasn't working. But the real work would be longer. Moedas spoke of reimagining the avenue entirely. Widen it. Give it a different profile altogether. Make room for bikes, yes, but also for cars, for the street itself to breathe. He pointed to Avenida da Liberdade, to Avenida da República—avenues that felt like they belonged to the city. Almirante Reis, he said, had cultural significance, a multicultural meaning, an openness that mattered. But right now, nobody could say it was in good condition. It wasn't.
The city was waiting on a safety evaluation from the National Civil Engineering Laboratory. Once that came back, Moedas said, the real work could begin. He was working on it every day. But he would not rush. He would not decide alone. The difference between his approach and his predecessor's was not just policy—it was philosophy. One had acted in silence. The other was choosing to act in conversation.
What remained unclear was whether consultation would actually change the outcome, or whether it was simply a more palatable way to reach the same conclusion. The avenue still needed fixing. The bikes still needed somewhere to go. The cars still needed to move. Moedas had promised to find a way that worked for everyone. Whether that was possible, or whether someone would have to lose, was the question the city was waiting to see answered.
Citas Notables
The Almirante Reis can in some way be what it has not yet been— Carlos Moedas, Lisbon city council president
The bike lane was made without telling anyone in the middle of the pandemic—that is exactly what I am not and will not be— Carlos Moedas, contrasting his approach with predecessor Fernando Medina's
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does a bike lane matter so much that a mayor has to spend months consulting about it?
Because it's not really about bikes. It's about whether a city listens to people before it changes their street. Medina built the lane in the dark, during lockdown. People woke up to gridlock. Moedas is saying: I'll ask first.
But he still has to make a decision eventually. Does consultation actually change anything?
That's the real question, isn't it. He's promised both short-term fixes and a long-term redesign. But he hasn't said what either one looks like yet. The consultation might shape it—or it might just make people feel heard before he does what he was always going to do.
What's actually broken about the street right now?
It's too narrow. One lane each direction. The bike lane took space from cars, so now nothing moves well. Police and firefighters can't get through. Residents are stuck. It was supposed to make the avenue better and it made it worse.
So why not just rip out the bike lane?
Because bikes matter to the city's future. Moedas isn't saying remove it—he's saying redesign the whole avenue. Make it wider, give it room for everything. But that's expensive and complicated and takes years.
And the short-term fix?
Still waiting. He says it's coming soon, but he's waiting on an engineering study first. Nothing's happened yet.
Is he actually different from his predecessor, or just slower?
He's definitely slower. Whether that's better depends on whether the consultation actually shapes the outcome or just delays it.