Showing posts with label Portugal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Portugal. Show all posts

Friday, 16 October 2026

The Algarve (11): Eating the Algarve 2026. Part 1: Food from the Sea

Originally posted in 2011, Eating the Algarve had a major rewrite in 2022 and has since been updated annually.

Introduction 2026

Portugal
Over the years this post has seen many deletions but many more additions, and this year's new material would make it overlong. So, for ease of reading I have split the post in two. Part 1 deals with fish, shellfish and other denizens of the deep, Part 2 (coming soon) covers everything else.

Eating in the Algarve

For me food ranks high among the pleasures of travel and 'eating local' is important. In a very few countries eating local is a chore, endless mutton in Mongolia (there was no choice) or two kebabs a day in Iran (I hear menus have diversified since 2000) leap to mind, but I have a much longer list of lands, from China in the east to Cuba in the west where dinner is a delight. Portugal ranks highly amongst them.

We first visited the Algarve, Portugal’s southernmost region, in 1982, returned several times in the 1990s and have not missed a year this century (except 2020, the Baleful Year of Covid). From 2005-25 we based ourselves at Carvoeiro, east of the city of Portimão. This year we relocated to Alvor 12km further west, just the other side of Portimão. The reason? We are getting older and were finding Carvoeiro's steep, hilly terrain increasing hard work; Alvor is flatter. Both are smaller resorts and I admire the way the locals accept that, for a large part of the year, they are a minority in their own towns, yet deal calmly and honestly with the invading hordes. I love the October warmth, the sunshine sparkling on the sea, the bougainvillea trailing across freshly painted white villas, and. of course, I love the food.

Algarve featuring Carvoeiro and Alvor

Portugal is often thought of as a Mediterranean country. Portuguese is a Latin language, the climate, particularly in the Algarve, is Mediterranean, as is the food. Tomatoes, garlic and peppers are important while olive oil is the essential cooking medium, condiment and salad dressing. All it lacks is a Mediterranean coast.

Warm(ish) and blue, but definitely the Atlantic Ocean, not the Mediterranean Sea

The Algarve is a tourist region and thus prey to foreign influences - tapas and sangria from Spain, salmon from northern Europe and all-day English breakfast from somewhere. Between them Alvor and Carvoeiro also offer Chinese, Indian, Thai, Nepalese and Georgian cuisine of varying authenticity, not to mention an increasing number of vaguely named ‘Mediterranean’ restaurants, and so-called Italian restaurants many of which hardly reach beyond spag bol and American style pizza.

Carvoeiro

I have nothing against any of these restaurants (except. perhaps, the fake Italians and the all-day English breakfast) but my interest is in Portuguese food with an Algarve accent. In the nineties and early noughties most restaurants could be described as 'tipico' and that is what they gave you, now it may be less than half. The problem for those wanting to eat Portuguese is not the 'ethnic' restaurants, they announce themselves clearly, it is the many apparently Portuguese restaurants who have, in part or entirely, given up on local food in favour of 'tourist food'. It feels like a betrayal, but I cannot blame them, restaurant owners have to make a living and if tourists ask for steak and chips, fried chicken breast, spaghetti Bolognese, or fish and chips, then that is what they will provide, and most, to be fair, do it very well.

Alvor harbour in the evening - a few fishing vessels among many pleasure craft.

For those who really want local food, the clues are in the menus. The Algarve produces good pork, lamb, turkey and chicken, but not beef. A menu featuring a list of steaks signals a tourist restaurant, as does a sign saying 'roast lamb with mint sauce.' The Algarve is roughly rectangular with the Atlantic Ocean on two sides. Unsurprisingly, it is blessed with the freshest of fish. A 'tipico' restaurant's menu will offer more fish mains than meat mains, but none of them will be 'fish and chips', and they will not call squid 'calamari' and serve it breaded and fried in strips or rings.

Foods from the sea are so important to the Algarve diet that the rest of this post is dedicated to them. There is a second post for everything else.

Peixe - Fish

Sardinha. Sardines are the right place to start, they are available in (almost) every restaurant in the Algarve and are often the cheapest main course.

Sardines, Dona Barca 2024

Since 1982 we have been making what has become a pilgrimage to the Algarve’s second city of Portimão to eat sardines. The scruffy trestle tables on the dock have long been tidied up, but ducking under an arch from where they used to be brings you to a small square where Dona Barca, an old-style restaurant, which retained its communal tables (until Covid) grills fish in the open air. Since we discovered it with Brian and Hilary in 2002(ish) we have never felt the need to go elsewhere for our sardines.

Sardines at Dona Barca, Portimão, 2004
Brian, Hilary, their daughter Lauren and me, with Lynne behind the camera

Sardina Pilchardus
Photo: Gervais et Boulart     Pub. Dom.

Sardines in Dona Barca, Portimão, 2026
Lynne included this time (a helpful waiter behind the camera) - no Lauren, she lives in Hong Kong

It is a treat we have often shared with friends, usually Brian and Hilary but with several others at various times. Dona Barca is inexpensive, the food is excellent (they have a full menu, it’s not just sardines) and it is one of the very few restaurants we visit with Portuguese customers as well as tourists.

I should also mention sardine paté. These little tins of loveliness are widely available and often part of a restaurant's 'cover' (see part 2). We often eat it for lunch with a salad, while Brian likes it for breakfast.

Sardine Paté

The paté is produced and canned in Olhão just east of Faro and it come with or without piri piri (we prefer it with). Taking a supply home means we can have reminders of Portugal whenever they are needed.

Robalo e Dourado. Sea Bass and Sea Bream are also ubiquitous if slightly more expensive. The tourist-driven fashion of late is to fillet them, but they used to be plated whole....

European Sea Bass
Photo:Miguel Mendez used under CC BY 2.0

Robalo, Casa Palmeira, Carvoeiro 2023

....and thankfully still are at Casa Palmeira in Carvoeiro.

Dourado, Casa Palmeira, Carvoeiro 2023

Dourado
Photo:Amada44 used under CC BY-SA 3.0

In 2025 I noticed menus in Carvoeiro offering Dourada and/or Robalo, while also offering 'fillet of Dourada/Robala' as a separate item, This seems a reasonable compromise, protecting those who suffer conniptions on seeing a fish head on their plate, its dulled eye staring reproachfully up at them, while allowing more robust dinners to carry on as before.

Linguado. Sole used to be on most menus, then disappeared and is now making a come back. Occasionally it appears as sole veronique, but more often in simple Portuguese style. This year (2026) I chose mine from the fish reclining on ice outside Zé Morgadinho's in Alvor...

Fish selection Zé Morgadinho, Alvor 2026
My sole has already been removed from its place between the sea bass, top right and the turbot below.
Lynne ate two of the cuttlefish, metal tray bottom right

...and it was taken away gutted and grilled.

Dover sole
Hans Hillewaert used under CC BY-SA 4.0

Sole, ready for eating, Zé Morgadinho, Alvor 2026

Perfectly cooked and served with a boiled potatoes and salad, it was as fine a fish as has every faced a knife and fork. I had noticed that sole cost half as much again per kilo as sea bass and sea bream, but I had not realised how big a fish I had selected. It cost rather more than I expected, but it was worth it. Zé Morgadinho's and Dona Barca where we eat our sardines, appear to be under the same management. Both are old-fashioned hardcore Portuguese fish restaurants refreshingly unafraid to offer tourists fine fish simply cooked.

Tamboril. The Monkfish may be the ugliest fish in the sea. On a fisher-monger's slab it is mainly face - and a face only a mother monkfish could love - with a tail as an afterthought.

With the head removed and the tail skinned a substantial slab of meat remains. There is a membrane that should be removed (though that does not always happen) and the tail is then cooked whole, or filleted and cut into several sizable medallions. This year (2026) at the Casa da Maré in Alvor I chose Espetada de Tamboril c/ Camarão Monkfish Kebab with prawns.

Monkfish and prawn kebab, Casa da Maré, Alvor 2026
The restaurant is by the harbour, but I am sitting in front of a picture

European Monkfish
Photo: Libby Keatly used under CC BY 4.0

The big cubes of fish were soft, luscious and perfectly cooked, as was everything else on the skewer, prawns, onions and more. It is a clever trick when everything has to be skewered at the same time. The Casa da Maré is nicely situated with a view of the harbour, but it is the standard of cooking that ensures it is full to bursting every evening, even in in mid-October.

Espadarte. We both like an occasional swordfish steak, though sometimes they can be a touch dry. It is a meaty fish and Lynne enjoyed her swordfish in A Galeria in Carvoeiro, though presentation does not appear to be the restaurant's greatest strength.

Swordfish, A Galeria, Carvoeiro 2025

Swordfish
Photo: Naturalis Biodiversity Center  Pub Dom

At lunch at the Atlântida, on the beach at Alvor, they offered an Espadarte Algarvia. There is no agreed definition of ‘Algarvia’ or ‘Algarve style’ but I expected something with tomatoes, peppers and garlic. I was wrong about that.

Swordfish with orange and almonds, Restaurante Atlântida, Alvor 2022

Oranges and almonds are important local products, but I was not prepared for a slab of fish to be doused in orange (juice and pulp) and sprinkled with toasted almonds. ‘Oranges and fish!' I thought, 'I have made a terrible mistake!’ But I was wrong about that, too, it was the best plate of food I ate in our 2022 visit.

In 2023 we visited Madeira, a Portuguese island 700km out in the Atlantic. There they catch tonnes of black scabbard fish which are dramatic to look at but make dullish eating. The locals pop a fillet of scabbard fish onto a slab of mashed potato, top it with one of their small Madeirense bananas and then cover all in locally grown passion fruit, thus turning a forgetable fish into a memorable dinner. That gave me two reasons to reassess my feelings about fish and fruit.

We lunched at the Atlântida at the suggestion of my (distant) cousin Ricky, long- time Algarve resident, fluent Portuguese speaker and now a Portuguese citizen. See Finding a Long Lost Cousin.

Ricky and me, Restaurante Atlântida, Alvor 2022

Ensopado de Enguia. Spotting clues in the menu is one way of avoiding tourist restaurants (should you wish to), another way is to drive a few kilometres inland where there are (almost) no tourists (except, of course, yourself and companion(s)). Inevitably, we tend to eat at restaurants along the coastal strip where the clientele is mostly foreign tourists. They might be largely 'tipico' but survival demands they keep an eye on what appeals to the north European palate, and generally that does not include eels.

In 2023 Ricky took us to her village restaurant. At A Oficina, she told us, they feed local workers on weekday lunchtime and on Sundays (when we visited) people drive up from Portimão (the nearest city) for 'country food'. Wherever the clientele came from, they were overwhelmingly Portuguese

A Oficina, 2023, Mexilhoeira Grande

A Oficina gave us access to several dishes unlikely to appear on coastal strip menus, and I could not resist trying ensopado de enguia, eel stew. Disks of perfectly cooked eel floated in a somewhat rustic sauce consisting largely of blitzed tomatoes strongly flavoured with coriander. It was accompanied by a plate of chips and fried bread, which would have been perfect if I spent my day labouring in the fields, but for an idle so-and-so like me, was more carbohydrate than I needed. The eel, though was delicious, the white, delicately flavoured flesh falling willingly from the bone.

Eel stew, A Oficina, Mexilhoeira Grande, 2023

European eel
GerardM used under CC BY SA 3.0

Bacalhau. The Portuguese love affair with salt cod started over 400 years ago and continues to this day, even in the Algarve. However, for me the Algarve is about fresh fish, and Bacalhau feels more at home in the Alentejo, which has much less coastline and a different culinary tradition. So, for Bacalhau dishes visit The Alentejo: Eating and Drinking 2024.

Lula, Choco, Polvo - Squid, Cuttlefish, Octopus. Not Really Fish, Not Really Shellfish

Lula. Squid has long been a favourite of both of us. They were disappearing from menus a couple of years ago, but I am glad to see they are now making a recovery. In 2022, 23 and (for Lynne) 24 and 25 the Bela Rosa in Carvoeiro was the chosen venue for squid.

Squid at the Bela Rosa, Carvoeiro, 2022

European squid
Photo:Hans Hillewaert used under CC BY-SA 4.0

Perfecting squid is tricky and Bela Rosa are doing well enough to encourage our repeated return, but the very finest squid we have eaten was served at Maria's, a breath of fresh air, proper Portugal and sensible pricing on the beach beyond the tourist wonderland of Vale de Lobo/Quinta da Largo. After several decades of sterling service Maria sold up. The restaurant is still there, the name is unchanged, but the prices soared under management fully invested in the creeping Californication of the Algarve.

The good old days at Maria's, Quinta do Largo, 2011
Fish is always best eaten within sight of the sea

There is another style of squid dish that involves many small squid, often carefully stuffed and sometimes served in their own ink, as at Cozinha da Avó (Grandma's Kitchen) in Carvoeiro in 2024.

Squids, Cozinha da Avó, Carvoeiro 2024

Lynne is not keen on squids like this and it is not always clear which your are ordering, though these are usually sold as 'Algarve style' or 'house style'.

Choco. Cuttlefish are closely related to squid, and, much as she enjoys squid Lynne is always keen to choose cuttlefish when it appears on a menus. This year (2026) it not only appeared on the menu at Zé Morgadinho in Alvor, it also appeared on the ice tray at the entrance. (see under sole).

'With or without ink?" asked the waiter when Lynne made her order. After a slight pause she said "With," "Are you sure?" "Yes." "Very sure?" "Well, I have eaten them without but never with so I should try it." Relieved, I think, to find he was not talking to a cuttlefish novice, the waiter nodded and wrote it down.

Lynne's inky brace of cuttlefish, Zé Morgadinho, Alvor 2026

Common cuttlefish
Photo: Diego Delso used under CC BY-SA 4.0

Cuttlefish have a distinct and somewhat stronger flavour than squid, further intensified by the ink. Lynne was enjoying them very much even when I pointed out that her teeth had gone black and she appeared to be wearing black lipstick.  She had an ineffectual wipe, and then managed to smear enough ink over her face to look like she had gone three rounds with a Gestetner printer (for those of us old enough to remember the Gestetner). The waiter stepped in with additional napkins and order was soon restored.

Polvo. We regularly ate octopus, more precisely, polvo à lagareiro in Martins Grill by the beach in Carvoeiro. Sadly Jan (Martins) Zegers died in 2019, Martins Grill closed soon after and octopus all but vanished in tourist orientated restaurants. 2025 saw a superabundance of octopuses in the waters around Devon and Cornwall, and as my fellow countryman and women have never warmed to their mild flavour and sumptuous texture, octopuses were exported to southern Europe in vast quantities. This may account for their sudden appearance on many menus in Carvoeiro.

In 2025, while Lynne ate her squid in Bela Rosa, I went for the octopus from the specials board. It was the best polvo à lagareiro I have eaten. A lagareiro is a style of cooking that involves generous application of olive oil during the roasting phase and is perfect for octopus.

Polvo à lagareiro, Bela Rosa, Carvoeiro 2025

The common octopus
Photo: Albert Kok used under CC  BY-SA 3.0

Marisco - Shellfish

Amêijoas. Clams have always been important in Portugal but the last twenty years have seen serious over-fishing. Amêijoas à Bulhão Pato, clams in a garlicky broth, was once a cheap starter, it still appears on menus but now costs more than most main courses.

It is possible to find a bag of fresh clams at a reasonable price in a supermarket and cook them at home. I have never essayed Amêijoas à Bulhão Pato but I do a fair Amêijoas marinière to mess with a classic and mix languages.

Clams marinière frites

Búzios. Whelks were once a popular street food in Victorian London but are no longer. The internet tells me there are still plenty of places where you can buy a bag of whelks, but I have never seen them in the UK. Buccinum undatum is the most common food whelk in the north east Atlantic, but Londoners ate the smaller 'dog whelks' Nucella lapillus.

The name 'whelk' is applied to several carnivorous sea snail species with swirling, tapered shell. My first encounter with them was in France as part of a fruit de mere. They were quite large with little flavour but a texture awkwardly poised between soft and rubbery that did not invite chewing. I may have eaten eels when visiting A Oficinia in 2023, but our first visit was with Ricky and her (now sadly, late) husband Zeka in 2014. He ordered feijão cozido com búzios (bean stew with whelks) and as I love Portuguese bean stews, I thought I would give it a go, too. I enjoyed the bean stew, and the whelks, cut small, did not interfere with my enjoyment - nor add anything to it. This was two years after the first version of this post, but I had not then started updates. This year (2026) when browsing menus prior to our visit to Alvor I saw the same dish was available in Restaurant Capacho. I had to go and try it.

Bean stew with whelks, Capacho , Alvor 2026

Buccinum Undatum
Photo: Bernard Picton used under CC BY 4.0

It was well done, but the beans were haricots, larger than those in A Oficinia, and the rice was served separately, whereas I think it was cooked in the stew last time. I preferred smaller beans and integral rice, but that is my taste, not a criticism of Capacho. The whelks, again cut small, offered the only resistance to the teeth in the whole dish, but otherwise made no more contribution than last time. I am glad I went and checked it out, I would happily go back to Capacho but not to eat whelks, I think I have given them a decent enough go for one lifetime. And perhaps that was how Londoners felt when alternative street foods started to appear.

Camarão. Prawns used to appear more in the starters section than in main courses, except of course in Arroz de Marisco (see below).

More than 20 yeasr ago, when we still ate three courses, I used to enjoy the prawns piri piri starter at Retiro dos Indios outside Val de Lobo. The restaurant survives to this day, but I have no idea what is on the current menu. In 2025 three prawn dishes appeared as main courses in the Bela Rosa in Carvoeiro, prawns piri piri, prawns 'house style' and shrimp curry - though they were all Camarão on the Portuguese menu.

I chose the curry...

Prawn curry, Bela Rosa, Carvoeiro, 2025

Common prawn
Photo: Eltrusko25 Pub Dom

...it was all right but the chilli could have been hotter and the rest of the spicing was far too muted. And as for it being a shrimp curry, no these were (I am happy to say) prawns. British English makes a distinction between prawns and their much smaller cousins, shrimps. Americans seem to use 'shrimp' for all such crustaceans regardless of size, even for tiger prawns. Perhaps Bella Rosa found their curry recipe on an American website.

Arroz de Marisco. Seafood rice, a particular favourite of mine, is usually a dish for two. First comes the ritual tying on of the bib - this is going to be a messy business - and then a large earthenware bowl is placed on the table and the waiter gives it a judicious stir.

Arroz con Marisco, Casa Palmeira, Carvoeiro, 2023

He then hands over the spoon and you serve yourself a portion of rice, with clams, prawns, mussels, cracked crabs legs, langoustine and whatever else had been in the market that day. Fingers are required to liberate tasty morsels from shells - the crab legs sometimes require force - and it all gets wonderfully messy. It can also demand some concentration!

I've found anothrter clam! Casa Palmeira, Carvoeiro 2025

Tasty though the morsels may be, I derive as much pleasure from the sauce and the rice that has been soaked in it as I do shellfish, indeed the whole process and the whole dish is a delight.

When all has been consumed it is time to sit back and relax. Although I like hands-on eating, I also enjoy washing my hands thoroughly when it is all over.

And relax, Casa Palmeira, Carvoeiro 2025

Cataplana Dishes. A cataplana is not a little known shellfish, but a cooking vessel unique to the Algarve. It consists of a pair of hinged copper shells which enclose the ingredients sealing in all the moisture and all the flavour. It can also be put on the heat either way up. A fish cataplana, usually serving two, will contain several pieces of fish - whatever is available that day - and, typically, prawns and mussels. The smell when your cataplana is opened at the table is memorable.

Cataplana, Vimar, Carvoeiro 2011

The cataplana in the picture was expertly cooked, but I doubt the slab of salmon among the fish is local, and nor are the New Zealand green-lipped mussels at the front. Local produce is excellent and promoting it is even more important now than it was in 2011.

Another dish traditionally cooked in a cataplana is pork and clams, and in 2022 I enjoyed this in an individual cataplana at the Casa Algarvia in Carvoeiro. This apparently strange combination was made in the Algarve, but undoubtedly designed in heaven.

Pork and clams in a cataplana, Casa Algarvia, Carvoeiro. 2022

And having mentioned pork, the section of Food from the Sea comes to an end. Part 2: Everything Else will follow shortly.

Tuesday, 11 November 2025

The Algarve (10): Carvoeiro

Carvoeiro, a Fond Farewell

How We Got There and Why We Stayed


Portugal
We have recently returned from our 35th visit to Portugal. 31 of those visits have included the Algarve, and of those 20 have featured Carvoeiro, indeed we have visited Carvoeiro every year since 2005 - except 2020, the baleful year of COVID.

My father retired in 1980 and bought a house on a golf course in Val de Lobo, a house that hosted many of our earlier visits to the region. By 1995 my parents found moving back and forth to Portugal several times a year had become increasingly wearisome, and they sold the house.

A younger me and the house in Val do Lobo (April 1992)

My father died in September 1999 so from 2000-03 we took my mother back to Val de Lobo during October half-term (one of the advantages of being teachers).

Unfortunately my mother's health deteriorated and from 2004 Lynne and I came to Portugal on our own. We tried a rural alternative, but it was not ideal, and arrived in Carvoeiro for the first time in 2005. Since then, we have returned every year (almost). We did not stay because we were afraid of going elsewhere, during those years our travels took us from 100oW (Mexico City) to 127oE (Kaesong, North Korea) and from 65°N (Stykkishólm, Iceland) down to 2oN (Malacca, Malaysia) – shame we never quite made the southern hemisphere. But that was travelling, and we also wanted a holiday, somewhere to relax that was warm, familiar and not too far from home. The Algarve was all those things, and Carvoeiro retained some of the atmosphere of the fishing village it once was, yet had all the facilities we could want. Knowing the area well, there was nowhere we needed to explore; we could visit where we liked when we liked - or simply not bother.

The Algarve (Carvoeiro underlined) and its position in the Iberian Peninsula (inset)
Val do Lobo is on the coast a little northwest of Faro, the regional capital

I started blogging in 2010 and have since published 10 Algarve posts (see end) and 8 more on the Alentejo – the region to the north – from visits preceding our Algarve fortnights. The only previous Carvoeiro post - The Boxes of Carvoeiro (2016) – celebrated a plot between local artists and the electricity company to brighten up the town’s streets. It is now time for a proper Carvoeiro post.

Carvoeiro
Carvoeiro grew around its beach where the fishing boats were based. This post is largely about that area, though later developments are spreading east and west 

Vilas do Mar

From 2005 to 2022 we stayed at No.1 Vilas do Mar. Vilas do Mar is a two-storey block of 10 apartments in the delightfully named Rua Cerro dos Pios (Little Hill of Birdsong), a short loop off the cliff-top road. It is an ugly building (hence no photograph) in a road lined with bougainvillea-clad, white-washed villas. The apartment was spacious and well equipped, though the walls were paper-thin. Fortunately, we very rarely had upstairs neighbours, but when we did, we heard every step they took and much more.

The Little Hill of Birdsong, Carvoeiro 2012

The block was end-on to the road with a pool at the back and a small garden at the front. The pool was communal, but the garden belonged to No.1. While other residents had only a balcony or small patio, we had space to relax in the sunshine and enjoy lunch and dinner al fresco.

Lunch in the garden, Vilas do Mar, 2007

Until 2008 we spent the last week of October (autumn half term) there, then we retired and our single week became a fortnight. After some experimentation, we settled on the first two weeks of October when the summer crowds have gone, but the summer weather lingers; unbroken sunshine can be enjoyed most days, with temperatures typically a perfect 26°.

We also got to know our landlords. Malcolm and Tessa divided their time between Essex and their other Carvoeiro property and we had dinner together once or twice on every trip.

Lynne with Tessa and Malcolm, Restaurante A Vela, Carvoeiro, 2012

The Boardwalk and Algar Seco

In the early days we used to walk on the cliff tops. In 2014 we arrived to find a new boardwalk across the cliffs. Although initially annoyed, I soon accepted that lizards, birds and other denizens of the brush would be better off without us tramping through their habitat - and the boardwalk provided better views along the coast.

On the Boardwalk. (2025)

Heading east takes you to A Bonica and Algar Seco. The soft sandstone cliffs are battered by the sea and (occasional) rain into fantastical shapes,

A Boneca and Algar Seco (2025)

At the bottom of the first flight of steps a right turn used to take visitors down to a café, now partly buried by a cliff fall a couple of years ago. Walking across the café terrace brings you to A Boneca,..

A Boneca (2025)

... a rocky pillar with an entrance.

Entrance to A Boneca (2025)

Once through the landward entrance there is the option of a seaward exit...

Seaward exit, A Boneca (2025)

...you would be well advised not to take it, unless you wish to sleep with the fishes.

Outside the seaward exit, A Boneca (2025)

At the bottom of the first flight of steps a left turn descends to Algar Seco where a hole in the cliff allows water to rush in and swirl out with more or less drama depending on the tide and the height of the waves. At low tide on a calm day, it is just an empty pool.

Algar Seco on a calm day at low tide (2025), The man with the backpack
would have been in difficulties otherwise

The Largo and the Beach

Walking west brings you to a headland above the beach. New this year (2025), is a statue of a fisherman. He is, presumably, wondering what happened to his village, while beside him, I am wondering how to make myself look even older than I am. Unlike the fisherman I appear to have cracked the problem.

The fisherman, Carvoeiro (2025)

Some buildings have different uses, but the descent to the Largo (Square) has changed little since 2014, it remains a steep 38m (120ft) descent.

Down to the Largo (2014)

The Largo has also changed little. Although called a ‘square’ it feels triangular with the entrance from the town being a truncated apex. The side we descended has long been dominated by O Barco.

The Largo and O Barco (2025)

The three café/restaurants on the other side have all changed hands, Xamor is our current favourite watering hole.

Lynne outside Xamor in the other side of the Largo (2025)

We can often be found there at beer o’clock, though sometimes we have a cup of tea and a biscuit on our balcony instead.

Beer o'clock (2025)

The base of the Largo opens onto the beach. When we first visited in 1982 my memory suggests traditional fishing boats were pulled up here (Carvoeiro has never had a harbour). There are still boats, and a winch to haul them up from the waves, but they would not be recognised by the man on the headland. These boats catch only tourists, taking them along the coast and into the many caves in the cliffs.

Carvoiero beach (2021)

Moving to Monte Dourado

When we first met in 2008, Malcolm and Tessa were much the age we are now. They enjoyed a full life in Carvoeiro, Tessa with the church and her book club, while Malcolm swam and played tennis. Well into his 90s he was a regular at Carvoeiro Tennis Club and claimed he was hitting the ball as well as ever – on the rare occasions he could get to it.

But age, as I am learning, comes with problems. When they felt the time had come to sell No.1 Vilas do Mar, we had ample warning that 2022 would be our last visit. They put us in touch with the owners of a property near theirs in the Monte Dourado development, we walked round to take a look and booked it when we returned home.

Monte Dourado is the same height as Vilas do Mar, but Vilas do Mar sits on a clifftop plateau, while Monte Dourado has little flat land around it. Going out on foot means descending, probably climbing another hill, followed by a second descent and climb. Unfortunately, our 2023 accommodation required us to climb the hill and then 40-50 steps up to our front door. I am not complaining, we knew in advance, but we were both surprised how tiring it was.

Monte Dourado, 109 Apartments on a hill top

Before leaving we visited Monte Dourado Recepção and enquired if they could offer us a ground floor apartment for 2024. They could, and by chance, it was next door to Malcolm and Tessa’s. Malcolm was not there, his travelling days were over, but Tessa was, with her daughter and son-in-law who have their own Monte Dourado property. We lunched with Tessa, and she suggested we use her apartment next year, when her daughter would take over the management.

So, in 2025, we were resident in an apartment that we had visited, many times before.

Inside the apartment, Monte Dourado

There were two advantages to moving next door. The open rear aspect unblocked the excellent view down over the beach,….

Our view over Carvoeiro (with Lynne's favourite 'pirate' ship passing by)

… and it welcomed the morning sun, so for the first time in Carvoeiro we enjoyed al fresco breakfast, as well as lunch and dinner.

2025 A New Year, a New Problem

In spring I attended my regular optometrist’s appointment knowing my eyesight was a little odd and suspecting I needed new glasses. What I got was a referral to the ophthalmology department of the Royal Stoke Hospital. The consultant diagnosed acute glaucoma, the pressure in both eyes was not just high, but alarming and damaging my optic nerves. Eye-drop treatment reduced the pressure, the immediate emergency went away, and I waited a couple of weeks for an operation to deal with the cause of the problem, and pop in a couple of new lenses to improve my sight and help keep my errant irises in position.

The damage to my optic nerves is permanent, and I have field of vision problems. I have informed the DVLA* who will either cancel my licence or send me for an official test, but in the meantime, I thought it wise to stop driving. Lynne has not driven on the right-hand side of the road since our year in the USA (1983/4!) and declined to take on the driving, so I cancelled our hire car. We have never visited Carvoeiro without a car and I wondered how we would cope.

New Experiences (1): Carvoeiro Municipal Market

We pre-booked an efficient and reasonably priced airport taxi and next day taxied to the out-of-town supermarket. We also used Carvoeiro’s municipal market for the first time, it is a short walk away but only opens from 7:00 to 11:00.

Carvoeiro Municipal Market

An elderly (says I!) man runs an excellent fruit and vegetable stall, but the fish market in the room behind was always closed. There is a good butcher and a shop selling delicatessen items and along with the shops in town they kept us fed and watered wined.

Inside Carvoeiro's Municipal Market: Fruit and veg on the left, the butcher down the end

New Experiences (2): The ‘Train’ to Ferragudo

A little road-train runs around Carvoeiro, and twice weekly heads off to the nearby village of Ferragudo.

Not much room left on the train

We had never bothered before, but this time, fancying a change of scenery, we boarded a 'train' packed with people old enough to know better.

Up the hill beside the beach

Carvoeiro to Ferragudo is 4.5km as the crow flies, but over the years we have watched Carvoeiro stretching ever further towards its neighbour. Ferragudo is also growing, and they will meet within the next few years.

Along the coast road towards Ferragudo

Ferragudo is a pleasant and still active fishing port…

Fishermen not actually fishing, Ferragudo

…staring across the Arade estuary at the city of Portimão.

Portimão across the Arade from Ferragudo

Old Friends

We usually meet up with old friends Brian and Hilary for sardines at Dona Barco in Portimão. This year they kindly picked us up on their way and generously detoured on the way back and waited while we did a supermarket shop.

Ricky came over for lunch from her windmill in Mexilhoeira Grande. Ricky is my fourth cousin and she and Lynne discovered each other during genealogical research. She is a long time Algarve resident and now a Portuguese citizen, and we enjoyed our annual reunion.

A Favourite Walk

Inevitably, we walked more this year than in the past. Any walk from Monte Dourado starts with a descent and Rua do Povo do Buro is the quickest (i.e. steepest) route to the Largo. It is disappointing, if predictable, that the ‘street of the donkey people’ no longer houses any donkeys.

Down the Rua do Povo do Buro

From the Largo we followed the same narrow road the ‘train’ had taken up the western (right-hand) headland. Rua do Paraiso (Paradise Street) is a pleasant walk in early morning sunshine, or a bit of a slog, depending on how you feel.

Up Rua do Paraiso

At the top, on the tip of the promontory, just below the decaying remains of a fort is a look-out point surrounded by a whitewashed wall where you can take a breather…

The look-out point

…and the annual photograph back over Carvoeiro. Travel companies, airlines and anyone else promoting Algarve tourism use a version of this photo,

Carvoeiro

Then we descended.

The main road into Carvoeiro from the north, splits as it enters the town (see map above). The inbound Rua dos Pescadores and outbound Rua do Barranco are separated by a line of apartment blocks, shops and restaurants. At the Largo, the end of Pescadores swings round to become the start of Barranco.

Pescadores (left) and Barranca (right) are parallel. Farol turns off right just after the start of Barranca

The photograph also shows Estrado do Farol (Lighthouse Road) – aka Restaurant Hill - turning off to the right. Not all Carvoeiro’s restaurants are on this street, but it has enough to occupy a discerning glutton for several weeks without repetition, hesitation or deviation. It is not part of this walk, but for those interested in Algarve cuisine, click here for my annually updated 'Eating the Algarve' post.

Descending Restaurant Hill after an excellent dinner

Our walk continued up Rua do Pescadores; it is always wiser to face oncoming traffic. Away from the Largo it is much the quieter road, being narrower and more shaded, and with fewer shops and restaurants.

Looking back down Rus dos Pescadores

There is not much to see, but I have always liked the building below. Despite occupying an oddly shaped plot, the design and decoration are very traditional.

Photographed in 2006, when the building was freshly restored

Near the top is the Padaria e Pastelaria Fabrica Velha (Old Factory Bakery and Pastry), our favourite place for morning coffee.

Fabrica Velha

The road is less shaded here, sitting on the terrace is like being bacon under a grill. We go inside…

Inside Fabrica Velha

…and usually order a café com leite and a pastel de nata each. ‘Portuguese tarts’ are now popping up in coffee shops all over the UK. Some are not bad, others regrettable, but this is how it should be done. And it is not just the pasteis de nata, every delight here is baked fresh on the premises.

Café com leite e pastel de nata,
Tão bom quanto possível!

From there we walked down the more dynamic left-hand side…

Rua do Barranca

It is wider and lined with businesses…

Rua do Barranca

…including a geladaria we have been known to patronise – though not (of course!) straight after coffee and cake.

I must point out I am holding Lynne's ice cream while she takes the photo
I have not bought two just for me

We did pause in the little Supermercado Bom Dia, because when you must carry everything you buy to the top of a hill, grocery shopping should be little and often.

In Conclusion

We actually enjoyed being car free, it was surprisingly relaxing – and there is nowhere within range we have not visited at least once. It made us look more closely at the place we were and see things we had previously missed. There was, though, a fly in the ointment. Every time you go out in a car, you come back up the hill in a car, when you always go out on foot, you always walk back up. Lynne was struggling, and every climb hurt, though she carried on gamely. After ten days or so, I was feeling fitter, I was going up the hills faster and with less puffing. But, descending Rua do Povo do Buro at beer o’clock on our penultimate day I felt a tendon tweak. I was hobbling on the last day, limping for the next week and I could still feel it a week after that. Holiday time is precious and I would resent spending any of it in hospital having my Achilles tendon welded back together. I joined Lynne’s No More Hills campaign.

A year ago I imagined we would be coming back to Malcolm and Tessa’s apartment for several years yet, but we will inevitably become (even) older and the hills will become ever more daunting. So, after twenty years, we have decided to bid a reluctant goodbye to Carvoeiro. We are not finished with Portugal yet; Alvor, just west of Portimão seems pleasant and flat so maybe that is our next destination.

 *British readers know about the DVLA, but for the benefit of the majority of visitors to this site: the Driver and Vehicle Licensing Authority is a bureaucratic behemoth located in Swansea.  They are responsible for licensing the UK's 42m vehicles and 57m drivers.

Sad Update: Malcolm died on the 14th of November. at the age of 93. We always enjoyed his company and he will be missed, particularly, of course, by Tessa. His was a long life, well lived.