The Algarve is perfect for walkers like usOur love affair with the Algarve began five years ago when we arrived in the southernmost region of Portugal to walk the Via Algarviana.
Unlike the majority of holidaymakers, we weren’t heading to the coast for a fortnight of sun, sand and Sagres (the local beer). In fact, we wouldn’t be setting foot on a beach for the next two weeks. Our mission was to walk the 186-mile trail stretching from Alcoutim on the Spanish border to Cabo de São Vicente in the west. Alas, the only guidebook on the market in 2015 was in German – and we didn’t use GPX back then – meaning we had to place our complete faith in the waymarking and just hope we didn’t get lost.
Our expedition introduced us to an Algarve few visitors get to see – a landscape of undulating hills, cork oak forests, centuries-old lanes and sleepy whitewashed villages. We backpacked, carrying everything with us and arranging our accommodation a day or two ahead (our wonderful hosts often phoned ahead on our behalf). Day-to-day life became simple: we hiked all day, often in blistering heat, and enjoyed good food and wine every evening.
I’d run the London Marathon the week before we set off, so I wasn’t unduly concerned with daily distances of up to 23 miles in blistering temperatures with virtually no shade. I was soon regretting my overconfidence. The 19-mile section from São Bartolomeu de Messines to Silves will remain in my memory forever as the day we nearly perished … from dehydration. Like many who are unused to hiking in high temperatures, we’d badly underestimated the amount of fluid we needed. Another mistake was arrogantly assuming everyone would speak English: they didn’t. On our first night in Balurcos, the bar owner’s wife – fearing we would otherwise starve – taught us two essential words: pão (bread) and queijo (cheese).
Five months later, we returned to the Algarve to walk the Via Algarviana link routes and an alternative finish via Aljezur and the Rota Vicentina – another long-distance trail exploring Portugal’s windswept Atlantic coast.
Wintering in the Algarve
Our positive experiences hiking in the Algarve meant it was our first-choice destination when we decided to spend our first winter abroad.
We rented a villa in the bustling coastal resort of Albufeira for three months, not really knowing what to expect but reasoning it would be better to stay on the coast where we could at least talk to people. Harri worked online on weekdays (he’s younger than me) and at weekends we would go off on overnight hiking expeditions across the Algarve, rediscovering the hills of the Serra do Caldeirão and the Serra de Monchique, exploring the spectacular coastline west of Albufeira, and enjoying the meandering historic trails and paths which crisscross the region.
The second winter we stayed for five months and never ran out of places to walk. We headed west and hiked the less populated coast favoured by surfers. A three-day trip saw us hiking twenty undulating miles to Salir – a village in the foothills of the Barrocal region – and back and climbing the limestone escarpment of Rocha da Pena. In our local bar, we became notorious for turning up on Sunday evenings exhausted and desperate for a beer … still carrying our rucksacks.
Leaving Wales
It was always my dream to live in a climate where you could spend most of your time outdoors. Harri took a little more persuading – he speaks Welsh and loves the Welsh mountains – but in the end it was the prospect of year-round hiking which won him round.
We left the UK permanently in November 2018 and spent our third winter in Albufeira, still walking miles every weekend and still catching the painfully slow Algarve trains to places farther afield like Faro and Lagos (the end of the line). We spent two weekends near Aljezur, enjoying the hiking opportunities afforded by the wild Atlantic coast and enjoying good food and music at the annual Sweet Potato Festival.
A chance encounter on the cliffs above Praia Marinha – considered to be one of the most beautiful beaches in the world – meant we now had friends in the eastern Algarve. I often hopped on a train to meet Denise and Geoff and hit the walking trails in the Ria Formosa Natural Park. Here there are no hills, just mile after mile of level walking with spectacular views of the barrier islands, salt pans and marshes, all teeming with marine birds.
The Silver Coast
Even the best-laid plans can go awry and so it was with us. Our house sale had been fraught with problems and the property chain ultimately collapsed. Algarve rental prices soar during the holiday season, meaning we couldn’t stay where we were: we needed a Plan B.
In 2017, we’d done a two-week hike in central Portugal. I’d simply listed the places I wanted to visit and Harri worked out how we could travel between them on foot (and occasionally train). We’d really liked the Silver Coast, an area about an hour north of Lisbon. Rental (and property) prices were cheaper there too. It was definitely worth investigating.
We rented an apartment in São Martinho do Porto, a popular seaside resort with one of the only sheltered beaches along the Atlantic coast. I soon learned there was a local walking group (Silvercoast Walks) which organised free, twice-weekly walks. Though the weather wasn’t as warm – or dry – as I’d have liked, it was great to explore this new region with others who shared my passion. At weekends, Harri and I went for longer hikes, including in the Serra dos Candeeiros, where the scenery – and the cloudy skies – reminded us of our beloved Brecon Beacons in Wales. My only real gripes about the Silver Coast are the endless eucalyptus groves – they stifle the native vegetation and impede views – and the distance between various towns. In the Algarve, we felt we could travel anywhere on foot without needing to walk on busy roads, whereas on the Silver Coast that wasn’t the case.
Spain and the Alentejo
With our house sale still limping along, we needed to make plans for the summer months. A friend suggested we considered pet sitting and, after Skype interviews, we secured two fantastic jobs, the first looking after two cats in Órgiva, Andalusia, and the second looking after goats, ducks, chickens, dogs and cats on a small farm near Grândola, in the Alentejo.
At any other time of the year hiking the spectacular Alpujarras around Órgiva would have been a dream come true, but we arrived at the end of June when the temperatures were soaring and the most we managed to cover in one day was eleven miles. A circular walk through the stunning Poqueira gorge to visit the whitewashed villages of Pampaneira, Bubión and Capileira (4,711 feet above sea level) was a killer (it took us over an hour to walk one mile). After that, we mostly hiked at lower levels, often around the spa town of Lanjarón, where the many acequias (irrigation channels) provided relatively easy walking with magnificent, far-reaching views.
Grândola proved disappointing from a walking point of view. Despite our excitement at being back in Portugal (by now we were certain we wanted to make this beautiful country our home) and the presence of some beautiful nearby beaches, the need to look after so many animals restricted us to short afternoon walks in the surrounding woods of the Serra de Grândola and prevented us from exploring further afield.
Return to the Algarve
In the end, there was no decision to be made. We returned to the Algarve and bought our home in Armação de Pêra in November. We’re located a mile from the beach and Salgados lagoon, an idyllic spot which attracts many migrating birds, including flamingos. Our car sits unused for weeks as we need only to walk a short distance from home to reach sandy tracks winding through pine trees, wooded valleys with dry riverbeds, and orchards of figs and almonds. There are vineyards and cacti everywhere, plus drystone terraces. Stray a mile and we can enjoy distant views of the Algarve’s highest peaks, Fóia and Picota, where chestnut trees grow tall, and hiking has a truly alpine feel. Often, we’ll pass a crook-yielding shepherd tending his many goats – or sometimes sheep – in the traditional way.
Nearly every time we go out, we stumble upon a hitherto undiscovered footpath or track, linking places in new and different ways. Throughout winter, there was colour everywhere: the almond trees were in blossom, and wild poppies and Bermuda buttercups burst through the fertile, rust-coloured soil. By spring, the enormous variety of flora, natural and cultivated, makes even a stroll to the recycling bins a visual delight.
Moving to the Algarve didn’t happen overnight. We came and went, we explored other parts of Portugal and even southern Spain, but in the end we knew this was the place for us. The perfect spot for a hiking-obsessed Welsh couple who wanted to do the thing they love best throughout the year – yes, even in midwinter.
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