Walking Portugal’s Wild Algarve

Our Adventurer in Residence heads to Portugal’s wild edges to find liquid gold, fruit brandy and new friends

Laughter bounces off the stone walls as I dip a chunk of fresh bread into a bowl of golden oil. Our group of nine is seated around a wooden table at Lagar dos Pardieiros, a third-generation family-run olive oil mill in Monchique. We’re eager to taste after seeing the huge syenite millstones that grind the olives old-school before the oil is cold-pressed. The verdict? Liquid gold.

For the past two days, our Exodus guides Francisco and Rafael have led us through the Serra de Monchique mountains, sharing the spectacular views and local traditions of their region, like the filhós we sampled outside a whitewashed house in the village of Umbria. The homemade deep-fried fritters topped with cinnamon sugar were a welcome energy boost during our eight-kilometre hike.

The mountain trails here are lined with olive and orange groves, pine trees and eucalyptus. Not to mention the fascinating cork oak—Portugal’s national tree and the source of about half of the world’s supply. Our guides showed how the cork itself comes from the tree’s thick outer bark, which is harvested every nine years. As I marvelled at the tree’s four-centimetre-long acorns, our group jokingly invented a slogan: “Save the cork industry, drink more wine!”

Then it was off to the Atlantic coast, and the rugged, wind-swept cliffs and golden beaches of the Algarve. Our daily walks along the sandy, undulating trails of the Rota Vicente brought new wonders, like huge white storks and the archaeological ruins of a 12-century Islamic fishermen village. One section of trail had towering cliffs with striated, multi-coloured layers of sandstone, slate and limestone dating back millions of years. Francisco even pointed out a fossilized mangrove root, which I mistook for a rock.

Our exploration of coastal culture included a visit to Vicentino Vineyards in Brejão. What would a trip to Portugal be without wine? We learned the sand-clay soil and salt-laden ocean breezes combine to produce wines with a fresh, mineral taste. As a relative newcomer to the scene in 2014, Vicentino prides itself on experimentation. Our tasting featured a Sauvignon Blanc with notes of green bell pepper—so different from any wine I’ve ever tried.

Another long-standing regional tradition is producing medronho—a fruit brandy made from the berries of the Arbutus, or wild strawberry, tree. The Portuguese have been distilling it behind closed doors since the mid-1700s, but it’s now a growing industry with licensed distilleries. At Junior Jacques Distillery in Alentejo, we gathered next to a shiny copper still as the owner explained how he crafts his medronho. At about 45% percent alcohol, it’s strong—but surprisingly smooth and delicious. Certainly not the “hooch” of days gone by!

Our destination on the last day was Cabo de Sao Vicente, the most southwesterly point of mainland Europe. Waves roared to my right as we set out across deserted gorse- and juniper-strewn meadows, past red sandstone cliffs and a solitary fisherman perched on a rocky ledge. I felt wistful, knowing I’d soon have to say goodbye to my fellow travellers. We’d developed a special bond, forged by shared stories during picnic lunches overlooking the Atlantic and countless laughs over fresh seafood dinners.

That bond showed at the lighthouse marking the end of the trail, when Gordon pulled out a flask of scotch and several small cups for a communal toast—only to be topped by Gerry, who produced his mandolin and sang a hilarious handwritten song about our journey.

That night, we celebrated our newfound friendship and knowledge of Portugal with one last dinner and—needless to say—wine. Gotta save the cork industry, you know.

As published by Exodus Travels: https://www.exodustravels.com/ca/insights/cindy-burgess-portugal