With only 60kms ahead of us, two planned stops and a 3pm check-in, there was no particular rush in the morning. Plenty of time to take a trot around the castle and then enjoy the buffet breakfast that was included in our hotel booking in Silves.

 

The day’s route would deliver us in Algarve’s capital, Faro, via Albufeira and Quarteira. We could tell that we were approaching an international airport. From first impression as we pulled into our parking bay in the centre of Albufeira, the spray of shops spilled onto the pavements with their displayed array of tourist memorabilia and beach paraphernalia. Nonetheless, we disembarked and followed our nose to the old town.

 

Using signage at the landmarks we tracked from our offline Google Maps, we pieced together that Albufeira dates back to ancient times. During the Roman occupation it was called Baltum and for 500 years was a major producer of olive oil and wine. In the 8th century it was a Muslim conquest and was called Albuhera. In the 13th century, King Afonso conquered the area for the Christians and made it part of Portugal. Then the earthquake in 1755 completely submerged the town, but it was rebuilt into an important player in the fishing industry and a thriving tourist destination. Christian joked that the town was still being invaded to this day… by British tourists!

 

Although a very pleasant walk-around the old town with easy access to historical points of interest and beautiful views of the ocean, the tourist trade brings hecklers and it was tiresome having to decline the endless invitations to enter restaurants, take a seat, get a discount or try a special drink/snack/offer.

 

Interestingly, Quarteira was quite the opposite experience. Clearly a holiday town that considered its season over for the year, we enjoyed a leisurely stroll up and down the wide and relatively deserted promenade. Poster boards informed us that this little town had sprung up since the 60s, with illustrations showing how the single row of scattered houses along the beachfront had soon become rows of high rise apartment blocks competing for their sliver of sea view.

 

Although neat and tidy, it wasn’t the most creative era for architecture and made no attempt at embodying the charm or heritage we’d seen in the other coastal towns. Since the majority of the windows were shuttered, we wondered if this modern set up made for more economical holiday / second homes for the Portuguese. Carlos at Arvad had told us that the Algarve was traditionally flooded with local tourists over August when the country shut down for their holidays. Perhaps this sort of scale made it more affordable for this influx. Critique of facades aside, we were still having a very lovely time enjoying an ice-cream at the sea side!

 

Having achieved what little we had needed to achieve, we set sights on Faro. Similar to what we’d done with other old towns (like Avignon in France and Leon in Spain), we located ourselves just outside the city walls – at the very lovely Sunlight House – so it was easy to park but still benefit from easy access to the sights and old-world vibe. Our strategy paid off. 10 minutes early for our 3pm check-in, I spotted a free walking tour brochure while Chris was handling the admin. We managed dropping our bags and high-tailing the 450m to the meeting spot to arrive breathless 2 minutes into the tour and having missed nothing but introductions by the cosmopolitan composition of the group.

 

What a great tour! Andre had studied Economics but had self-admittedly adapted to a more ecological viewpoint from his life experience. He unwrapped the millennia of twists and turns the region had taken as it had shifted through the reign of the (Muslim) Moors from 700 AD, to the reclamation by Afonso III (and the Christians) in the 1300s, diplomatically addressing the harmony and toils of the religious mix. Similar to the stories we had heard in Lisbon, the Inquisition brought all sorts of religion-based separation and bloodshed where peaceful co-existence had previously been the norm. Andre was emotive but diplomatic in unfolding the story and drawing parallels to the current sorry state of the world.

 

We wound our way through the old town, admiring relics from each era, from our meeting place at the city gate to rounding the Roman Forum that housed the bishop’s palace and seminary, past the City Hall. Steeped in history, every corner revealed a new piece of the story that brought together Faro’s trinity; Fado + Fatima + Football. Highlight for me was the revelation at a blue and white mural (one of the many across the Algarve) that these used to be the colours of the flag of Portugal, now replaced with the modern-day red to symbolise the bloodshed and green of the Republican Party that brought about the change but which no longer exists.

 

Having beat such a hasty retreat to meet our guide, we hadn’t thought to grab jerseys. Quite chilly on this late autumn evening, we retraced our 450m from the completed loop of the tour back to our residence. Peckish from our excursion and nearing a respectable dinner time, we took advantage of the access to internet to pinpoint a traditional Portuguese restaurant on The Fork and secure a 18h30 sitting.

 

This gave us enough time to amble in that general direction and stop for a sundowner en route. We picked a lively locals cafe, Pastelaria Coehlo, where we were lucky to  get a table. Having so enjoyed the atmosphere and impressed by a quick gander at the menu, we were quite sorry to have to leave. Fortunately our baked cod in cream sauce and paella-style duck rice at Petiscaria Decanter were great! We did return to Coelho for a nightcap after dinner though; finding a table directly under the telly that had the rest of the clientele transfixed on a local football match.

 

A drizzly morning thwarted our good intentions to run along the Faro promenade. But also meant that there was no particular rush to get up or get moving to do anything else. Our booking at Sunlight House included breakfast, which was served on the rooftop terrace, from where we could see what we would have seen on foot anyway. Almost like clockwork, the rain stopped once we were fed and packed, which allowed the opportunity for a last wander along the water to say our farewells to Faro.

 

The later check outs at the Algarve hotels help to balance the short driving distances and mix of excursions that suit each stop. For instance, the wine tasting we planned to do at Al-lagar on the outskirts of Tavira (where we’d be staying overnight) would have been awkward if we’d checked out any earlier than 11 and not done the extra walk in Faro seeing as the drive was barely 30 minutes. We were encouraged that several tastings were underway when we arrived! We had picked a goodie and bought a couple of bottles of our favourite rosé and red to take with us.

 

Although treated to a mixed bag of weather, travelling off season (as had been necessitated since we were timing with the concert we’d attended in Lisbon) had its merits. Our hotel – the AP Maria Nova Lounge Hotel in Tavira – was notably above our usual standard and budget, having been secured online at a fraction of rack rate. We were very chuffed with our spacious suite and all the amenities the hotel had to offer. Not that we ever seem to have time to take advantage of them because once again we dumped our bags and were off like a shot to explore.

 

Instinctively following a cobblestone alley or two to navigate towards the water – which we later learnt was the Gilão River – we had no trouble finding the hub of old town Tavira to secure a tourist map that would provide a route around the castle and handful of churches. We had the place pipped in an hour or so, congratulating our efficient sightseeing with a Guinness at the Irish pub on the riverfront to which we were drawn by the lilting voice of the two-piece band delivering reasonable acoustic cover versions of popular classics.

 

As the sun went down, it got chilly on the water so we went back to our lovely hotel to enjoy some of the facilities before dressing warmer to head back to town for dinner. Now inland (although still only 3km from the coast) we were not pressured to continue on the traditional seafood journey of discovery that we had been on for almost a week. It was now time for our traditional holiday curry dinner. Much like Irish pubs, there is always a curry house wherever you go. So we ended up at Mehfil’s. We were delighted to see that they had pork curry options on the menu, which we’d not seen anywhere on our travels so we got a balance of the something old and something new after all!

Our last day required the long drive back up toward Lisbon, from where we would be flying home on Friday. While we had meandered down the coast to get to the Algarve, the return journey was a more practical and pragmatic coverage of the some 200km distance. Not wanting the pressure of a long drive straight into a long back-to-back air journey home (we were flying via London), we had strategically reserved a room in the town of Setubal for joint benefit of a last night of coastal holiday but only 30km from Lisbon airport.

 

Setting off on schedule and making too-good time, I checked out route for a potential stop to slow us down a bit. ‘Mother House of Wine Route’  was too good a name to pass up! Situated in Palmela which was off the A2 highway that had brought us from the Algarve, directly en route and about 10 minutes shy of our final destination, we could not have asked for better.

 

We parked the car and did the obligatory snoop around the town square before bee-lining to our excursion. What we found was a very respectable building on the square with neat deck in front where several tables already homed enthusiasts with multi-coloured wine tasting flights. Entering the building, we stopped to examine the illustrated map papered on one wall, which showed us that the entire peninsula of Setubal was a wine region. No wonder it had come up recommended on our itinerary! This building was a centralised place to experience wines from all over the region. There were hundreds of bottles neatly displayed in rows of glass cabinets, with a bar counter at the back where you could order tastings, wine by the glass or purchase whole bottles.

 

The lady at the counter was very friendly and helpful and filled us in on the basics of the Setubal region, mentioning grapes we were familiar with, that had been introduced to us in the preceding week and new ones we’d never heard of. She was kind enough to give us a sip of this and that along her story to prove her points. We settled on a favourite red and white to get a glass of each and took our place on the deck, feeling worthy from our flash education. Both were really good. So we tried two more. And bought a bottle of white to take home.

 

Using nicely closed the gap to get us to check-in o’clock, we just had to roll down the hill into the town of Setubal. It was busy and as close to traffic as we’d come on our tour. Chris deftly managed the double-lane circles and all the lane changes that came along with them to get us to B&B Hotel. Once again, our intention was to secure the car and explore on foot, starting with the Forte de Filipe.

 

We think the Google Maps lady was getting even with us for all the long and unpronounceable Portuguese names on our road trip (even we had laughed at her blatant and clumsy Anglicisations) because she chose the most convoluted and challenging route imaginable to push us up the steep hill to the fort at the top. We were huffing and puffing by the time we arrived… but were treated with free entry (which is rare). Ordered in 1582 by Filipe II on his visit to Setubal, this fortress was designed to protect the Portuguese coast from the regular pirate attacks from Northern Europe and Africa. Its positioning on this high steep hill allowed the most spectacular vistaramas up and down the coast as well as the ocean into the deep blue yonder, which must have been a big advantage when the fort had its job to do.

 

Unfortunately the cafe on the visitors deck was already closed or we would have stayed to enjoy a sundowner, but instead we hoofed back down the hill. Somehow the return journey was direct and short, and we practically freewheeled onto the promenade where Carlos at Arvad had said we’d be spoilt for choice for dinner.

 

Sure we would be, but a bit early for that (most restaurants opening with 7pm bookings), we accepted an invitation into Bar Absurdo for a sundowner to kill some time. Very nice upstairs venue gave us a vantage point to view the esplanade below, and good internet gave us opportunity to narrow down our options. We decided to keep the last night traditional with Original’s Casa de Peixe offering a whopping 50% discount on their 7pm sitting. We had the most spectacularly seafood feast with deep fried cuttlefish to start, following by prawns in a curry cream sauce and the hugest grilled tuna steak imaginable. Thankfully we had the walk home to settle our scrumptious supper and close off what had been a truly superb road trip.