Our tour guide described Alte, which is 20 km northwards of Albufeira, as “the most picturesque village in Algarve”. To verify this statement one would have to travel around all other Algarvian villages, so let’s take it on trust.
By the way, it’s been experimentally proven that the value of picturesqueness is proportionate to the quality of the weather at the moment of observation. Even a rusty gas tank looks cheerful on a bright day.
In this regard our first time in Alte wasn’t lucky. It’s been one of those rare rainy and cloudy days, when picturesqueness approaches nought.
Because of the drizzle we couldn’t get to see the village that time, so we came once again when the sun shone:
Alte is situated on a slope, which makes its streets steep and narrow, like in Albufeira, and cobble-paved.
Some lanes are even too narrow for a normal car:
But the legendary Lada Niva (a Russian tank-like vehicle) can get anywhere:
Alte has a river, or maybe a canal. This area is called Fonte Pequena (“small fountain”):
And this is, apparently, the fountain:
A monument covered with azulejo panels, with the poem of Cândido Guerreiro, Alte’s most celebrated son, on it:
And this is
the other another Alte’s attraction, a statue depicting Alte’s Muse called Naia, which vaguely reminds me of wooden toys from Ikea:
The birds seem to adore the Muse:
The houses are whitewashed according to the tradition. Some are inhabited not only inside, but also outside—notice the eaves. I wonder how swallows manage it upside-down.
Street name plates are also remarkable here. They are not as fancy as in Albufeira, but they show a personal touch:
I appreciate the effort put in making them.
Alte has apparently clay soil, which is reddish like it was in the orange grove:
Patriotic and enthusiastic locals have painted the coat of arms of Portugal on a nearby cliff:
I wouldn’t evaluate Alte as an extremely beautiful place, but I liked its native air. But even here you find English on signs and souvenir stores. Meaning, this place is known to tourists.