After years of my friend Lizzie urging me to go, I finally made it Olhão last September.
It was the perfect tonic to a long Summer of work. I needed to go somewhere slow paced but vibrant. I wanted to eat good food and mooch around on warm sand and I wanted to be on my own. I was excited to set off last minute with the security of knowing that if Lizzie thought I’d love it, then I would. I didn’t research it, I just booked an apartment and sent a DM to her favourite restaurant Chá Chá Chá to ask for a table for one on my first night.
The restaurant Lizzie sent me to that night was owned by Kevin and his wife, Frances. Nine months later, I’m asking Kevin if he’d write about Olhão - his adopted and beloved corner of Portugal, a working fishing town he’s made his home - and to my delight, he agrees.
Kevin greeted me like an old friend that first night, handing me a glass of Pét Nat sparkling rosé and a plate of his delicious homemade pickles. We quickly realised we had more mutual friends from his days writing for the Guardian. That first meal of my trip at Chá Chá Chá was nothing short of perfection. A bottle of beer sipped from a frozen ceramic mug (which I bought to bring home to London) and plate after plate of the freshest seafood and inspired flavour combinations. I was so content. I loved his all female kitchen team and they clearly loved their work. The whole place was buzzing. A very happy spot indeed, I left with a big smile on my face.
But before I hand over to Kevin, a confession:
You know when you settle down to watch a film, and ten minutes in you think, ‘Wait… I’ve seen this film before!’ Well, there I was, on the second day - off the ferry and strolling to the beach, when I popped into a little shop for some snacks and it suddenly hit me: I’d been in this shop before. (I know, eye roll emoji) but in my defence, it was ten years ago and it was a flying visit coming off the back of a very messy wedding. My friends were doing the driving and deciding where to stop, and I was the spaced‑out passenger princess, happy to be woken up and led to the next cold hair of the dog.
Well. This time I got to give Olhão the clear-headed attention it deserves - and in return, it gave me a very restorative four days. After a long summer in a London office, arriving felt like stepping into a different world: a colourful Portuguese fishing town where life moves with the tides, the markets stalls overflow with whatever's been hauled in that morning, and a quick, inexpensive ferry can carry you to islands with white sand beaches that feel so far from the rest of the world.
But it’s the people that make this place special, and that’s what I love about how Kevin has immersed himself here. His Instagram captures the heart of Olhão, highlighting the everyday characters that fill its streets and markets, making it feel like a small village that welcomes you in.
If you’re looking for glam, cocktails and big nights out, then this spot isn’t that, but if you like great markets, pastries, seafood, narrow cobbled streets and charming houses, then this’ll be your jam. It’s also a nature lovers dream as it sits on the edge of the Ria Formosa, a maze of lagoons, sandbanks, and wild islands. I even saw flamingoes on my way to the islands!
In this newsletter, I’ll weave together a mix of my own photos and Kevin’s to give you a sense of this beautiful town through both of our lenses.
So - where to stay, where to eat, what to order? Over to you, Kevin…
Twenty-ish years ago Frances and I bought an ancient higgledy house here on spec.
In those days Olhão (pronounced Olly-ow) was a smelly old place, with a semi-abandoned feel, and a weirdness to it. Tea sipping curtain twitchers all over Portugal
delighted in being ignorantly down on the place, whether they'd ever visited this far South or not.