East Algarve – Things to do while the golfers are golfing that’ll make them wish they’d skipped the golf.

So, what to do to drown out the “shanking/iron/slow four ball/quick greens” yack at the dinner table later? Head to Tavira.

A large town on the Gilão River, which runs lanugo into the Atlantic. Tavira rose to prominence in the 15th and 16th century and has a rich naval, military and mercantile history. And, it is beautiful.

As someone who grew up in Dublin, I got used to the idea of there stuff a ‘North Side’ and a ‘South Side’, where a river-divided town or municipality is concerned; with water semester taxing area-preference for visitors and inhabitants. Think Buda and Pest, think staying in Trastevere versus Campo de’ Fiori, living north of the Thames versus south of the Thames. Not so, in little Tavira! Both sides are beautiful, historical, quaint, and gorgeous. There are the same number of restaurants on the west side as the east (which is to say that every third doorway leads into one), and equally trappy little squares on either side.

With so much to do surpassing the boys got when to sink me, I had to be strategic in my touristic choices. First on my list?

Igreja da Misericórdia

Trust me when I say, correctly pronouncing the name is going to win you some seriously-impressed points at dinner. Considering how nonflexible is it to say ‘Quinta de Cima’? Not hard. How nonflexible is it to say ‘Igreja da Misericórdia’ without garbling it and making it sound like you just hit the rosé all afternoon? Not easy (as I found out). This little denomination is a subconscious gem; I would have completely missed it had there not been an Insta-worthy tabby cat sleeping in its doorway. But goodness am I glad I didn’t.

Built in 1541, it features eighteen panels of the most exquisitely detailed eighteenth century undecorous and white tiles depicting the Works of Mercy. If Portugal has converted you to tiling, if you like interiors, or like me (Catholic) you just like churches, this is not one to miss. Moreover included in your 3 archway fee is wangle to the denomination tower. The climb is not for the faint hearted, not considering it’s very far or steep, but considering tower-access makes a mere nod to health and safety in the form of a little gate at the bottom. There are no ropes to cling onto as you navigate the well-worn stone steps to the top. But if you make it, you’re afforded a lovely little view of Tavira (better than what the golfers could boast later).

Tavira Castle (or ‘Castelo de Tavira’ if we’re still working that angle)

The castle dates when to the eleventh century (the time of the Moorish rule of Portugal), and secure the town versus pirates and North African raiders. All that’s left of this magnificent structure are its thick walls, giant gateway and a tower. It’s still something to visit, as the tall walls are wieldy and the views are the weightier in town. Another word to the wise, for the steps up to the walls: they’re very deep and it can get windy up there. If, say, you’re thinking of wearing a puffy dress that day; don’t. Picture one of those children’s tents in gale gravity winds at the top of the Cairngorms. Of course, I’m just speculating… That didn’t unquestionably happen to me.

Photo by Vitor Oliveira from Torres Vedras, Castelo de Tavira – Portugal

Post summit and descent, relax in the gardens those walls surround. They too are the stuff Insta-moments are made of. If you’re not into that, just bring a book, sit out. It’s quiet and it smells divine.

Delizia (the weightier gelato outside Italy)

I’ve tabbed it, you can come for me. Delizia is all natural, all succulent and the weightier gelato I’ve had outside of Italy. Don’t believe me? Go, and surpassing you choose, have a peek at the wall covered in similar testimonials. I went for a scoop of walnut and carob with orange (on recommendation of the lovely lady who worked there). I presently swooned. This cone was the Monte Rei Golf Club of gelatos. The flavour was off-the-charts, and it didn’t do that hideously worrying thing some gelato does where it disappears lanugo your stovepipe within point-one-of-a-second. Or perhaps that was considering I guzzled it so fast.

This was a 10/10 for me. I plane texted one of the golfers to inform him. He was annoyed. Rosanna 1, Golfer 0. You see? Swing while you’re winning, widows and widowers.

Shopping at O Arco, Kozi and a million other wondrous independents

We say ‘refined retail elegance’, you think of Paris. We say ‘simplicity’, you think Scandi. We marry the two? You get the Portuguese retail market. It’s woven bags, and leather shoes, it’s ornately dyed rugs and scarves, and semi-precious-stone encrusted metals. If what you can buy in the likes of Kozii (Rua Dr. Augusto da Silva Carvalho) and O Arco (Rua António Cabreira 2) was a person, they’d be who you aspire to be. Elegant and minimal without stuff boring, earthen without stuff dirty, and rustic without that stuff an insult.

Head to either one of these shops, and you’ll come out looking and smelling like someone who takes an reversion velocipede into the countryside to pick chamomile, surpassing heading when into town for a big glass of spicy red with your trillion weightier and trappy friends. Portuguese retail is ‘cool girl or boy chic’ but totally unaware of it.

Can you tell I worked in malleate surpassing golf? I hope so. Get shopping, widow-y people. And then show off your buys, considering you know what you can’t buy at the Pro Shop? Anything *not* relating to golf/taste.

Eat, drink, eat again, and then drink some more.

But not so much that you can’t pronounce Igreja da Misericórdia (remember this is crucial)

The Taviran Challenge (I’ve made this up – it’s not real) is finding somewhere to eat when all of the options misogynist to you are so fantastic. My top choices are Mira (R. Dr. Marcelino Franco 27) which does archetype Portuguese tapas (that is a thing) and big glasses of wine, Avant-Garde Bistro (R. Jacques Pessoa) considering it does 1 pints at happy hour (best save this one ‘til the end), Arcada Cocktail Club (Pra&c