Portugal 1: Cabanas

As is common at the start of our holidays, we were leaving the flat dressed against the cold, but with our cases stuffed with shorts, sandals and sun cream.

At the beginning of our weeklong mid-September holiday to Portugal we had to walk to the train station before dawn. Trundling with our cases in the dark through the streets of Manchester, the vapour of our breath hung in the air. Orion, the constellation I associate with winter, was high in the sky.

As is also common on the first day of our holiday, we spent more time getting to the airport and being processed there than the flight itself. When we landed at Faro, I saw the car rental office adjacent to the terminal so in record time we had our bags and picked up our car.

First stop was the hypermarket. In the UK we are loathe to visit such a place, whilst in the USA it's about the only place you can get your groceries these days. When abroad we find them the perfect way to start a holiday by finding our essentials in one place: things like olive oil, pasta, rice, bread, cakes and cheap but decent booze.

Unlike the Netherlands, Germany or Italy - where our days would be packed with galleries, museums, cafes and churches - in Portugal we had only one thing to achieve with our itinerary: good wine.

The wine selection at the hypermarket was vast with many affordable tipples, but biased towards Portugal's own offerings. I think we saw only one Spanish wine on sale, so for some proper rioja we made plans for a trip over the border later during the holiday.

I knew when in Portugal to look for wines featuring Tinto Roriz or Aragonez grapes, as these are the same as the Tempranillo grapes which make Spanish rioja. We were not disappointed with the Portuguese wines we tasted, even though we never paid more than 5 euro for a bottle from the shops.

And it was not just the wine which caught our attention. The local beer was so cheap I convinced myself the price was per bottle, not pack. I was proved wrong at the tills, when 10 bottles of 5.6% lager came to about £2.50.

Then we drove to our home away from home for the week, an apartment in the small resort of Cabanas de Tavira, about halfway between Faro and the Spanish border on the eastern Algarve.

Cabanas was - and still is, at heart - a fishing village, with a fleet of small boats moored along the seafront. It may be surrounded by bland (but low-rise) condos, but we had a top floor apartment with a sea view in the middle of the original village.

Everything in the apartment was new and we had all the essentials (including a BBQ on the walkaround balcony) for some of our best meals of the trip there.

Later this week I promise to share my tips on how to book accommodation like this independently and how to research a location online to find the best resort for your holiday.

For now though, how about a quick walk around Cabanas?

Though it had a few bars advertising football matches on Sky Sports, it was obvious the town has not yet sold itself out entirely to the tourist trade. The restaurants looked affordable and none of the bars were flash or trendy.

Strolling the seafront, it was clear this is a working town that happens to enjoy good weather and a nice spot on the sea which it is happy to share with a few guests.

So why don't we leave the fishermen alone with their catch for now and come back to the beach another day?