Portugal beyond the coast
Pastoral charm casts a spell in the heartland of Alentejo
Five years ago, Portugal still felt like a secret. I was lured by whispers of crowd-free surf, fairy-tale-worthy castles, 300plus days of sunshine a year, hillside vineyards and irresistible food, all for a sliver of the cost of neighboring Spain and France. Like most visitors, I flew into Lisbon — a European San Francisco, with its steep streets, trolleys and even a mini Golden Gate Bridge — then headed straight down the coast to explore the wide stretches of beach in the Algarve.
The white sands of Praia de Albandeira, tucked between tall red ochre rocks, still felt wild and undiscovered. The endless tidal pools at Praia do Amoreira were like marine treasure chests harboring brilliantly colored starfish and urchins. And the glassy waves at Praia do Amado were free for the taking, shared by myself and just four other surfers one quiet morning.
Portugal had won me over, and so I returned later that year and in the years to come. A true Pisces, I always gravitated to the coast. My first trip back, I shared my favorite beach with a handful of couples from Lisbon. But by my third return, in the off season, I was battling for a slice of sand with dozens of Portuguese families, as well as German and American tourists. All paradises are ultimately discovered, and the Algarve was no longer talked about in whispers — it was making headlines. Since 2015, air capacity between Portugal and the U.S. doubled, and this year, the country expects to welcome 900,000 Americans, most of whom follow the same city-tosea itinerary down the coast to what travel guides tout as some of the world’s most beautiful beaches.
I was about to write Portugal off as another Iceland or Thailand — tarnished by overtourism. But then I recalled a conversation with a chatty cab driver in Lisbon. “The interior is Portugal’s real surprise,” the gentleman interrupted as I blabbed on about the Algarve’s beaches. I hadn’t given much thought to the beauty that might lie in Portugal’s heartland. And so in the fall, I ventured to Portugal’s rural center, Alentejo.
It makes sense that if you want to avoid the crowds, you should head inward to the countryside. Populations gravitate around the coast, and although Alentejo is Portugal’s largest region (as big as Belgium), it’s also one of its most sparsely populated. Much like the heartland of America, there’s a pastoral charm here that casts a different spell than the salty breeze of the seaside. Though there are quiet beaches to be found in the Algarve, it’s the region’s rolling vineyards, olive groves, farmland and forests of cork and holm oaks that captivate visitors.
The pace immediately slows when you arrive in Alentejo, and there’s a noticeable sense of community. Even as an outsider, I’m immediately embraced. Four locals I meet on the train from Lisbon insist I cancel the cab to my hotel and join them for lunch in Évora, the region’s UNESCOlisted capital. “How is it possible you have not tasted our bacalhau assado?” asked my astonished new friend, Gonçalo, referring to a classic dish of roasted cod. Lunch in the Algarve is an affair, and for the majority of the afternoon, I am schooled in the region’s traditional food at Restaurante Fialho, a legendary, familyrun spot that dates to 1945.
The people in this region take pride in tradition and have a deep respect for the past. I’d heard people describe Alentejo as “trapped in time.” At first glimpse, I can see why. The area is riddled with archaeological wonders. En route to my hotel, my new friends detour us just outside Évora to see the Almendres Cromlech, a collection of 95 8,000-year-old stones that resemble a gigantic graveyard straight out of “Game of Thrones.”
A quiet stretch of highway takes us deeper into the countryside, past dilapidated montes, or farming villages, and fields of the region’s mammoth Mertolenga cattle. A long, cork-tree-lined cobblestone road leads us to my home for the next few days, São Lourenço do Barrocal. This eighth-generation farming village could easily have turned into a place time forgot. But instead, thanks to the efforts of José António Uva, this farmstay-turnedfive-star-resort exemplifies the