English Version | All the Algarve, the irreducible

Someone said, in an important interview in an important Portuguese newspaper, whose name I can't remember (but I swear it's true), that the first step to stop being racist is to accept the fact that we may well be racist without being aware of it. This also applies to prejudice against the Algarve. That there is. Hello if there is. On both sides, it must be said. And I'll explain... Portuguese tourists shouldn't be. Precisely because he's Portuguese. “Visitor” is an epithet that would suit him better. But when he arrives here, he assumes the bearing (and attitude) of someone who forgets that the Algarve is also there during the winter, pulsating with life and no, Algarvians don't just live for the summer, nor are they dying for it to arrive so that they can have the privilege of serving Lisbon, Braga and Escalabia. In truth, this Portuguese holiday paradise is even facing a problem of low salaries in the hotel industry, which doesn't pay enough to put up with the snobbery they are so often subjected to. It would be natural to expect this from the kamones (the local term for the English is a well-established one and has been around a lot longer than Zezé Camarinha) but, after all, they are the ones who respect local idiosyncrasies the most. And it's precisely these idiosyncrasies that make them fall in love with the place, even more than the landscapes or beaches, since most of them even prefer the swimming pool as long as there's beer, TV screens with the Premier League on, Full English Breakfast and Chicken Peri Peri, which here is the real thing and not the stuff they usually eat at the local Nando's chain. It's culturally worrying that, in reality, there are kamones who know much more about the Algarve than so many Portuguese who have been vacationing there for so many years, whose radius of stay is reduced to the beaches near the aparthotel they've rented, its restaurants and one or two water parks. But the reality is different... The Algarve is still surprising every kilometer. Precisely because, beyond the tourist exploitation that has allegedly distorted the region, it is made up of people who maintain their own traditions and a culture that is as unique, if not more so, than anywhere else in the country. From this perspective, and no matter who it hurts, the Algarve has been much more indomitable, ravaged by mass tourism since the 1960s, than Lisbon or even Porto, which have been distorted in just a decade. To the point of making life uncomfortable for the locals. After all, the Algarve could serve as an example. Of how not to do things. Uderzo's little Gaulish village teaches us a lesson. But we're all very naughty schoolchildren.

The position of Governor of Arms of the Kingdom of the Algarve was replaced by that of Civil Governor of the then-created District of Faro. It was 1834 and the Kingdom of the Algarve was dissolved. Algarbe Andaluz in Arabic, meaning “the westernmost tip of the Almohad Caliphate in the kingdom of Al-Andalus”, became the Kingdom of the Algarve when D. Sancho conquered Silves in 1189 and remained so until 1471 when all our kings became “of Portugal and the Algarves” until the Portuguese Republic was proclaimed. This means that rooted in this chest where a Portuguese heart beats, the southernmost strip of mainland Portugal is only a hundred and a few years old. This leads to a more than natural distance being created, which does exist. Is it excusable? Not at all. Not knowing the Algarve in-depth and well beyond the coastline, or the eastern part of it, is not just a sin. It's ignorance. Voluntary ignorance, to boot. It comes from a lack of interest caused by a detachment that is, in this case at least, atrocious. Its opposite, which would be to explore the other Algarve that we are proposing here, would bring fascination. That flame for a much more authentic place, with incredible landscapes and fascinating people. But you have to start slowly because you have to abandon the commonplace of the Algarve, which has its epitome in Albufeira and its substitutes, despite (because everything bad has its salvation inside) all the beautiful beaches with fire-colored cliffs and restaurants that, at Villa Joya, have the oldest Michelin stars in Portugal. The division between Barlavento and Sotavento, which is more historical than modern, has to do with the winds that blow in the region and, of course, since this has always been a land of fishermen, is a nautical concept for sailors (Barlavento is the side of the boat from which the wind blows and Sotavento is its opposite, the one that “lets go” of the wind) will also be the starting point for this separation. The first runs from Sagres to Albufeira, include Lagos, Portimão, Lagoa, Silves and Albufeira, and will not be the subject of our story. The Sotavento, where we can still find the Algarve that binds us, begins in Loulé. And this is where the once-typical Algarvian donkey twists its tail. While the county's coastline is home to Quarteira, Vilamoura, Almancile Quinta do Lago and Vale do Lobo, where private condominiums that the average mortal can't access abound (which the locals call the Golden Triangle), the city of Loulé is the Algarve's big cultural draw, with the Cineteatro Louletano and the Bafo de Baco, both with enviable programs, as well as Loulé Criativo, which doesn't let the work of Algarvian artisans die, and the Tasa project, which sells it as far away as Japan. Then there's Faro. And “Fare is Fare”, as some political candidate wrote on a huge billboard at the entrance to the city and the people adopted it. Strolling through a district capital amidst storks' nests and narrow streets, and being able to enter the Teatro das Figuras or the Lethes, a replica of Milan's La Scala, or watching the transformation of the entire downtown area with the F Festival, one of the most incredible cultural events in the country, where only Portuguese artists perform within the walls of the fortress, and finally being able to crown it all with dinner at the Tertúlia Algarvia restaurant, is a rare privilege. It is also in the district capital that the distinction from the other Algarve truly begins, as this is where the Ria Formosa begins, that pulse of life that has ruled these lives for centuries. Does it make bathing more boring for vacationers? Of course, it does. You have to take a boat to the islands, which have paradisiacal and incredibly deserted beaches in the middle of August. But that means you only have those who really love these places. It's the paradigm of sustainable tourism... With summer seasoners who appreciate everything and everyone in a place, the place and all of its inhabitants don't need to do anything other than get on with their lives and cook what their grandmothers used to cook, using what the sea and the land provide, in the kitchen of their house covered in tiles of dubious taste and a roasting pan for roasting sardines (small and ballerinas, just like in Setúbal and where sardines are known). That's what you're looking for, that's what there is, that's what the Eastern Algarve is, the land that, if you know it, you can take the car off the N125 and cycle all the way to almost Spain on the Ecopista. In Olhão, under-famed for the best of reasons, we find a paradise of authenticity, made up of humble people, with the sea running through all their veins and arteries (and from where so many have come who have made other places in Portugal fishing villages, such as the Costa de Caparica) and with all the sense of community and friendship that this entails. The market is the epitome of the good, the healthy and the local, a maxim that some supermarket chains have used as copywriting, and reflects centuries of wisdom and mastery, where you can still find muxama (tuna ham) and dried octopus roe, among various fish species that are impossible for people from other places to identify. Tavira, which spreads along both banks of the River Gilão, is as unavoidable as it is beautiful and requires you to wander through its streets to discover the Algarve of yesteryear and its twenty-one churches. Further on, in Cacela Velha, a tiny hamlet that was once unknown, the Ria Formosa and the less explored Algarve end, now that publications specializing in “discovering undiscovered places” have highlighted it for so many years, to the point of making it a destination for influencers and tik tokers in search of the most Instagrammable oyster dish. But, of course, there are still the beaches of Verde and Cabeço and, before long, we find ourselves in the heart of Vila Real de Santo António, in the inevitability of “a little trip to Spain”, in Castro Marim and its salt pans in the middle of the Sapal Nature Reserve (a visit to the king of it all, Jorge Raiado, whose Sal Marim is a must in all the kitchens of top restaurants) and in the possibility of “going up”. And what does this “climb” mean? Everything!

Translated from the original in Vogue Portugal's "Portugal With Love" Issue, published June 2024. Full stories and credits in the print issue.