WHEN WE FIRST moved here from the UK in 2008 to a remote hamlet in the Southern Alentejo hills, there were still echoes of traditional country living. The shepherd walked alone in the hills with his sheep and dogs, pigs were kept in pens near the house and gardens were tended along the river banks.

We had bought the ruin of a school and slept in the remnants of a classroom, kept cool by the
gaps in the windowpanes as a pack of dogs howled at night, chickens ran freely and a curious community welcomed us, showering us with eggs, fruit and vegetables.

This way of life in the countryside is fading as the young leave, clutching their mobile phones, looking for education opportunities and employment. Some do return, bringing new knowledge back to the surviving family farms. But once everyone knew and relied on each other and now the old houses are fast falling to ruin in the extremes of weather. But a change has come about, as people from all around the world grow more and more confident and find the houses that they can’t afford in the Algarve or in their own country are now within their grasp.

By the time we left the hamlet in 2021, the native Portuguese had gone. Once they were the only ones. But we had integrated and learnt alongside them. Now, in the same hamlet there is only a handful of ‘foreigners’ who have invaded with their lounger chairs, sailcloth shades and satellite internet. We moved to a village which, by comparison, was civilised – on tarmac roads not dirt tracks, where tradesmen delivered without complaining or refusing, and immediately felt the difference.

The atmosphere of neighbour needing neighbour and survival being the only consideration had dispersed, though the streets still echo fragments of the old ways. The cockerel crows at dawn and chickens wander where they please (mostly into our garden!). Dogs generally are kept on leads and walked – not expected to wait outside for the master then follow with the sheep.

Young Portuguese mingle with the remaining elderly but also the inevitable expats take up occupation at sporadic intervals. Now they are the ones to lean on each other for advice and support, or just friendship. But the native Portuguese are still welcoming and gardens are tilled.

If you are looking for an unforgettable experience and a taste of the original Portugal, I would urge you to drive out of the Algarve at São Bartolomeu de Messines and ascend into the Serra do Caldeirao. The views become more and more spectacular the higher you climb. Stop at the top at the village of Malhão and see mile upon mile of rolling countryside reaching out to the sea, punctuated by cork oak trees.

You can stop the car and walk up to the highest point – a Tibetan Buddhist retreat where visitors are invited to walk around clockwise in a circle and find inner harmony with positive energy. If you use the café car park please respect the fact that they don’t complain, and go in and have a coffee – the old couple running it are delightful, speak no English but have learnt the basics of the wants of the stream of visitors they get from the Algarve.

The further you go into these hills the more you will find a Portugal not intent nor reliant on tourism. Here everyday life is slower and in tune with its surroundings. And if you pass a little village of whitewashed cottages where an old person peers out of a garden crawling with vines, give them a wave.

They know who you are and will wave back. It’s not strange nor unusual any more for them to see a foreign visitor, whether it is in a car, on a bike, or even commandeering a neighbouring property. This is the Alentejo now.

When you leave you will feel exhilarated and enriched, and keep the memory in your heart forever.

Gillian wrote Alentejo Days, Magical Nights a few years after she and her husband Roy purchased their first property. Links to the book can be found at gillianhiscott.weebly.com