Why We Stayed in Ayamonte Instead of the Algarve (And Booked Another Trip Before We Left)

Ever since moving to Sotogrande, we’ve been trying to work out how to spend more time with my family.

My sister and her family live near Lisbon. We live in Sotogrande. Neither journey is impossible, but one side always ends up doing most of the driving.

This time we wanted something different.

We wanted the cousins together. We wanted something manageable for my mother. And we wanted somewhere that felt like a proper weekend away. We had done Seville a few times – still one of my favourite European city breaks. The Algarve seemed the obvious answer.

There was just one problem.

Accommodation.

After looking at countless hotels, I simply couldn’t make the numbers work. We needed several rooms and every hotel that looked genuinely appealing seemed to start at around €400 per room per night.

Then I found an apartment in Ayamonte. At first I almost ignored it. We wanted Portugal, not Spain.

What I hadn’t appreciated at the time was that we weren’t just booking somewhere to sleep.

We were accidentally booking a weekend between two countries.

Friday: Portugal First, Spain Later

We left Sotogrande at lunchtime and headed west.

One of the many advantages of travelling to Portugal is gaining an hour. One of the many disadvantages is losing it again later.

Our lunch reservation wasn’t until later, which left us with a small but unexpected window of time. The apartment host mentioned that check-in was possible with around thirty minutes’ notice, so we took a quick detour into Ayamonte, dropped our bags and had our first look at the apartment.

This turned out to be a very good decision.

Not only did it save us dealing with luggage later, but it also gave us somewhere to store what would soon become an increasingly ambitious Portuguese shopping expedition.

The apartment itself was even better than expected. Occupying part of a beautiful historic building overlooking the waterfront, it felt unmistakably Spanish, with colourful interiors, beautiful tiled walls and far more personality than many villas and apartments we have stayed in costing considerably more.

There was a rooftop terrace, an interior courtyard, excellent air conditioning and, perhaps most importantly, a standard Nespresso machine..

The owners had even left ten coffee pods for us. Unfortunately, they had not factored in my brother-in-law joining us for the weekend. We’ll be arriving with backup supplies next time.

Lunch was at Cuca in Vila Real de Santo António, where we shared a salad, grilled sole and homemade flan before heading to Casa Jardim. (Call +351 281 403 370 to book. Cash only).

If you’re interested in Portuguese homeware, Hugo’s shop is dangerous.

I left with several sets of beautifully soft 800-thread-count Portuguese bed linen and immediately started wondering why I hadn’t discovered the place years ago.

At under €300 for a super king set, the value was difficult to ignore.

A stop at Continente followed.

What had started as a fairly modest shopping list quickly escalated into eighteen bottles of Portuguese wine, six bottles of Oliveira da Serra Gourmet olive oil for everyday use, a couple of bottles of Esporão olive oil, Nicola Nespresso coffee pods, Renova cocktail napkins and various other Portuguese essentials.

Even our shopping flowed in both directions.

We returned to Spain with Portuguese wine, olive oil and coffee, while my sister headed back to Lisbon with Spanish ventresca, a few sleeves of Cinco Jotas jamón and paleta ibérica de bellota, a bottle of Gin Mare and a bottle of Nordés white vermouth.

By the end of the weekend our cars looked as though a small-scale Iberian trading operation had taken place.

At this point we realised that the hour we had gained earlier in the day was about to come back and haunt us.

Between lunch, shopping and our increasingly ambitious stock-up operation, we had completely forgotten that dinner was in Spain.

Suddenly we were rushing back across the border.

Driving Between Spain and Portugal

Driving between Spain and Portugal is straightforward, but there are two things worth checking before you set off.

Tell your car hire company. Most rental companies require you to declare any cross-border travel and may charge a small fee to ensure you remain fully insured in both countries.

Check how tolls are handled. Many Portuguese motorways use electronic tolls, so it’s worth confirming with your rental provider how these will be charged before you travel.

We have Bip + Drive which is a French service – and aggregates all tolls from France, Spain and Portugal. We don´t have the French service active, but having the Portuguese tolls included is excellent.

Other than that, crossing the border is remarkably uneventful. One minute you’re in Spain, the next you’re in Portugal — often with little more than a sign and a time change to let you know you’ve arrived.

One of the things we wanted the children to understand during the weekend was that although Spain and Portugal sit side by side, they are very different places. The language is different. The food is different. Even the supermarkets are different.

My husband spent most of the weekend accidentally saying obrigada in Spain and gracias in Portugal.

Our daughter was not impressed and quickly appointed herself border control.

That evening we had booked dinner at LPA The Culinary Bar, one of Ayamonte’s ‘most modern’ restaurants.

If somebody had blindfolded me and dropped me inside, I would have guessed Madrid or Miami long before I guessed Ayamonte.

The interiors, the atmosphere and the menu felt completely different from what I had expected to find in a small border town.

We ordered the foie gras cornetos, ceviche and tuna tartare and were settling in for what promised to be a very enjoyable dinner when we suddenly remembered that my sister and her family were driving from Portugal and that we had also booked a table at Merkajamón.

The time difference had caught us out again.

As a result, LPA became an exceptionally good appetiser before dinner.

Only a weekend spent bouncing between two countries could make that seem perfectly reasonable.

At Merkajamón the cousins were finally reunited and the weekend could properly begin.

Later that evening, after the children had gone to bed, we opened a bottle of Herdade do Esporão on the rooftop terrace and agreed that the weekend was already proving worthwhile.

Saturday: Portuguese Beaches, Portuguese Shopping and Portuguese Snails

One of the many joys of staying between two countries is that you can leave your apartment at 10am and arrive at the beach just after 9am.

The Portugal-Spain time difference never stops feeling slightly ridiculous.

We spent the morning at Praia Verde.

Although I spent much of my childhood between Quinta do Lago and Pine Cliffs, there is still a surprising gap in my Algarve knowledge. The Eastern Algarve is one of those places.

I’ve driven through it countless times over the years but never really stopped to explore it properly.

Lunch was at Pezinhos na Areia. The fish was excellent.The surprise was the bill.

We had been advised one weight and served something considerably larger, which resulted in an unexpectedly expensive lunch. The fish itself was delicious and I would happily return, but my advice is simple: check the weight before ordering.

The only thing that puzzled me more was being asked to leave my sunbed, get dressed and walk to the restaurant in order to pay for the beds before they could potentially be sold to somebody else. Portable card machines exist. I remain unconvinced.

After the beach we headed into Vila Real de Santo António.

The previous day I had visited Hugo at Casa Jardim (+351 960 326 307) and left with several sets of bed linen.

Less than twenty-four hours later, I found myself back in town.

This time the mission involved beach towels.

After spending the morning at Praia Verde, I sent a few photographs to friends back in Sotogrande and quickly discovered that I was not the only person who liked them. At around €15 each, they were proving rather popular.

Orders started arriving via WhatsApp.

What made the whole thing even more amusing was the speed at which they were selling. Between around 5pm on Friday and my message the following morning, more than one hundred towels had disappeared and several of the designs I had photographed had already sold out.

Fortunately we managed to secure enough before they vanished too.

We also spent time at Casa Caravela, where I admired far more Bordallo Pinheiro, Costa Nova and Atlantis than any sensible person needs and somehow left with a few additions to our Vista Alegre collection, as well as a couple of cotton bedspreads.

At around €30 for a single and €50 for a super king, they were another reminder that Portugal continues to offer exceptional value if you know where to look.

At some point there was ice cream.

There were also snails.

The children showed equal enthusiasm for both.

From Vila Real we headed to Cacela Velha. The village itself is tiny but beautiful, with views across the Ria Formosa that seem to improve every time you stop to look. As always, our daughter insisted on visiting the church.

Dinner was at Casa Velha. The razor clam rice was outstanding. So was the Dom Rodrigo.

Back at the apartment, the children disappeared remarkably quickly and we opened a bottle of Soalheiro Alvarinho in the interior courtyard.

At some point the husbands sensibly decided to go to bed. My sister and I carried on talking.

The funny thing is that we speak almost every day on WhatsApp and have always been committed to raising our children as close together as possible despite living in different countries.

You would think we’d eventually run out of things to discuss. We never do.

Sunday: The Day We Booked Another Trip

Before checking out, we asked whether it might be possible to see one of the smaller apartments in the building.

Our next trip will just be the three of us and we didn’t need four bedrooms. The one-bedroom apartment turned out to be surprisingly spacious, with a dedicated dining area, a small outdoor space and more than enough room for a long weekend.

Decision made.

Before we had even checked out, we had booked our next stay.

We then headed to Praia do Cabeço.

The weather wasn’t particularly promising when we arrived and the beach attendant suggested we wait before paying for our sunbeds. He told us to give it an hour and see what happened. Fortunately, he was right. The clouds disappeared, the sun arrived and we ended up having exactly the sort of beach day we had hoped for.

Lunch was at Sem Espinhas.

Having learnt our lesson twenty-four hours earlier, we asked to see the fish before ordering and confirmed the approximate weight.

There would be no surprises this time. We ordered razor clams Bulhão Pato style, red mullet, razor clam rice and salad. Everything was excellent.

As lunch progressed, we found ourselves talking less about the trip we were having and more about the next one.

One thing that struck me throughout the weekend was how different Spain and Portugal still feel despite being separated by little more than a bridge.

Vila Real felt calm and understated. Ayamonte felt lively. Neither is better. They’re simply different.

We slept in Spain, spent our days in Portugal and somehow spent the entire weekend gaining and losing the same hour.

Somewhere between Ayamonte, Vila Real de Santo António, Praia Verde and Cacela Velha, we found a weekend that worked so well that we booked another one before we’d even checked out.

Mrs. O

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