Monchique

Monchique is undoubtedly my favourite place to go in Southern Portugal. As I am not really a beachgoer, I tend to prefer the countryside and I find the hills quite tranquil and relaxing (Maria Von Trapp, much?). This mountain range offers breath-taking views and also an alternative to the coast. Besides, Monchique is the place to be if you intend to get yourself drunk on medronho (go for a local brew... Monchique's moonshine at its best) and go for a picnic on the quiet hillside. On the other hand, you might as well stay in Caldas de Monchique, the refreshing and charming spa village, located in the luxurious mountain valley. If I was rich, I'd buy a chalet over there.
There are many inviting restaurants and snack bars all over the hills so do not panic if you ever find yourself particularly hungry - it always happens to me when I breathe such soothing fresh air.
Fóia is the highest point in the Algarve - 902 metres high - and the whole area looks post-apocalyptic, not to mention the view from there - you can see everything, sea included. The higher you go, the colder it gets, so be prepared for chilly winds.
I didn't plan on getting TOO adventurous, so I sticked to my usual kind of mid-season outfit: brand new black ankle boots that look slightly brogue-ish (Primark's cheapest boots), a floral bag, pastel socks and a Miss Patina pastel blue dress that I won in a contest.
Anyway, now you have a glimpse of scenery spectacle and landscape porn. There are plenty of places to walk and explore in Monchique, if you are in the mood for remote woods and peace of mind. Nothing beats the fragrance of pine trees and eucalyptus, while listening to the dreamy fountain waters falling in cascade.

Convento de São Francisco

Me and Gustavo spent another afternoon exploring a monastery, this one in Portimão: Convento de São Francisco. It wasn't so hard to get inside as we thought. There was a breach in one of the walls, it was a pretty easy climb. Once inside, it got even better. There is plenty to explore - the cloister, the upper floor, the ruins...
There were definitely people (gipsy families, for what I've figured) living in those ruins. We could hear a man doing something behind the trees and we also noticed lots of clothes hanging in a rack in the backyard.

Surrounded by the harbour, the monastery was founded in 1530. In 1755, the epic earthquake shook the country and this structure naturally collapsed... and with the catastrophe came the decay. It's a shame, really, because no one is interested in doing anything for that piece of History. The convent was also used as cork storage in the 19th century but guess what, a fire destroyed everything inside.
This was a place we both were curious about for many years and despite the strong smell of shit, piss and junk, it was a very worthy visit, overall.