What do you do when a friend shoots you a message to inquire if you’re interested in visiting him in the Algarve region of Portugal for a few weeks? You waste no time and start booking your ticket, obviously. And what do you do if you see a snapshot of the 4 storey beach villa with swimming pool and panties-wettening vintage wine cellar he happens to be house-sitting? You start jumping on the bed out of pure exhilaration while pounding your chest tarzan-style, the only adequate reaction.  

It’s like I win the travel jackpot every fucking time.     

Vale de Lobo close to Almancil is the territory of the richest of the rich. And us. 

Yes, my friends rock, there’s no other way to describe it. If you travel long enough the tremendous quantity of people you meet allows you to filter out the elite of awesomeness, WHO, not unimportant to mention, are all allocated to the travel category. So certainly we could spend our days floating on an inflatable lounge-sofa tanning our freckled skin in Portugal’s daily 38 degrees…    

… but you could also answer the call of adventure that’s always present in this (in my opinion) most sublime region of the country. 

A good way to start your exploration with Almancil as a homebase is the beach hike to Quarteira, about 6km west. The trek from Praia Ancão to Praia Azul takes you over the sparkling white but rather developed coast line, graced with bright orange rock formations on the side.     

Quarteira itself is nothing more than a collection of uninspired apartment blocks, ready to cater for the masses, so make sure you don’t plan too much time ad locum.      

Budget tip: Free camp places are available alongside the beach just in between the towns. Just make sure you clean up your own trash, like 90% of the current holidaymakers didn’t. 

If you’re like me and don’t like doing the same thing twice you can hike back inland where all imaginable fruits and herbs just grow freely in the stunning wild nature of this district. I spent days brewing berry cakes and Indian platters full of freshly picked mint and rosemary… and that, dear readers, makes me the happiest person alive. The sheer realization of nature providing us with all we need to survive and be healthy, isn’t that a calming thought?    

Yup, all vegan! All cakes are RAW vegan even, not bad ‘ey? 

Another absolute favorite is the tiny hamlet of Loulé, a labyrinth of cute little corridors with purple and pink flowers, gray-haired ladies hanging their fragrant laundry on the streets and hidden terraces where you can drink port in the shade of a lazy afternoon. My friend and I returned several times to snoop around at the market where you barter for the sweetest sun-grown cherries and crispy toasted pistachios. If you’re a fake student like me you can freely enter the Municipal Museum which is located in the historic Castelo de Loulé of which all excellently preserved remains can be admired. Keep an eye on the festival calendar, as this city has a rather busy program in summer season, functioning as the flourishing regional center of culture and art.    

You’d think it will only get better with Faro, another touristic hotspot on the rise.     

I guess I made the mistake of setting my expectations too high, which easily results in straight disappointment… it’s certainly not disastrous, the authentic historical center is definitely worth a double look, but just keep in mind that within half an hour you’ve seen it all.     

If you’re bored you can visit the Cathedral, but if you trust my advice I’d rather send you to the Igreja do Carmo where you can enter the Capela dos Ossos, a chapel entirely made of human skulls and bones. Yeah, I guess that gothic phase during my teenage years left some permanent marks.    

Time left? For 10 bucks there’s a boat to Ilha Deserta where you can watch from under your parasol how herds of daytrippers dip their pale bodies into buckets of sun oil.  

As my +1 suffered a severe sea sickness we instead opted for Olhão, a cute little settlement only 10km east.     

There’s not so much in the sense of attractions or wild excursions, but if you’re in for a lazy siesta stroll and a carafe of sangria in the sea breeze, Olhão is where you long to be.       

Keep in mind that Algarve is more than just splendid beaches. I love the beach… for a day or 2. Then I’m bored and I need something more physically challenging. Well, in that case the best idea you could possibly have is heading to Monchique, the absolute rockstar of southern Portugal.    

Even the ride to get there will make you scream to no one in particular while slamming the dashboard. Be prepared to bring as much water you think you could possibly drink and a liter more and keep in mind you’re in for a sunburn not even factor 50 can protect you from, but man, this is going to be good! We followed the Trilha dos Moinhos and Trilha da Foia, originating in the picturesque center that’s already worth a visit in itself, leading us passed immaculate views of the province’s green core.     

This is what traveling means to me. 

No jam-packed beaches, no white people on noisy scooters, no robot music blasting out of pumping clubs, no sunburnt people getting hammered in order to talk to girls… Just you as a tiny part of our eco system.     

The absolute opposite can be found in Albufeira, the mind-numbing snake pit of humanity. I felt like I had to check it off, a decision I doubt until the day of today. Once making my way through the neon madhouse sheltering the biggest Dutch population outside of Holland I didn’t really know if I had to hysterically laugh or cry. There were posters all over the city promoting bullfights, for fucks sake, that tells the entire story of the folks that hang out there.    

Posters ready to rip off! Man, that feels good! 

It’s basically the part of our residents we needed to get rid off anyway, so maybe we can convince Trump to ask them to build a high wall around Albufeira so they can never go back. If you read this and recently signed up for ISIS: Albufeira, lots of people we won’t miss, I repeat: ALBUFEIRA! Just joking. But not really.    

Disappointed in life we sauntered passed the trashy concrete and bars full of Dutch fried snacks and cheap sugary alcohol, which was free here because I have a vagina and that’s the only female feature valued in places like this. To make sure we had a better time than those depressed-looking people rapidly drinking towards a delirium we entered a bar (knowing that our IQ was higher than the sum of everyone else standing in that space) to give away our least sexy dance moves, including the ‘bird dance’, the ‘walking-down-the-stairs’ and the ‘Charlie Chaplin’, after giving a 15-year-old his first erection while almost twerking his mojito off the table on the beats of Justin Bieber.  

They say that in order to experience peaks, you have to go through the lows. Well, that was Albufeira’s only function.     

You’re 100% better off in Carvoeiro, where I came to re-visit childhood memories. You see, my parents took me to the Algarve when I was just old enough to jump waves and build sand castles, but memoires have this irritating feature to slowly fade until there are only pictures left…    

However, the orange eroded rock formations I think of when hearing the word ‘Algarve’ and those pleasant cove beaches are still just as delightful as my mother tells me they were.     

Blinded by the light time seemed to change for a bit. I suddenly heard my father shouting to come and play in the swirling sea while my mother’s shrill voice warned him to be careful with her little girl, my grandmother smiling from the shades comparing the then present with her own memories like I did now.  

Carvoeiro seemed to have captured those remembrances in the rustling of the sea and released it when the sun brought back the same summer freckles as in 1991.    

It was that kind of day that I knew I would always remember as ‘that perfect beach day’ before it had even ended.    

Until we meet. 

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