The original, and arguably still the best. Everyone pootles around in beat-up golf buggies or Mini Mokes, or on sit-up-and-beg bicycles. The Casiraghis drop by in July and August to stay with Charlotte's godmother, Albina du Boisrouvray, and Sarkozy and Carla have been spotted further down the coast near Muda. French designer Jacques Grange, German artist Anselm Kiefer and model Farida Khelfa (Schiaparelli's new muse) all have houses here. Their neighbours are savvy, connected Lisboans, Parisians, Brazilians. Instead, sandy tracks lead from one unassuming cottage to the next. There are no gates, no tarmac, no high walls. Interior designer Vera Iachia is part of that dynasty and her collection of cabanas, with their polished-concrete floors, wood beams and cushioned day-beds, has set the tone. The smartest families have rooted themselves in Brejos, where the Espírito Santo clan has a cluster of houses. These two factors have kept this slice of the Alentejo astonishingly preserved and pristine.įrom Easter onwards, people descend from the rest of Europe in quiet droves to stay in the traditional but vamped-up, candy-striped village huts. The area is well looked after, not only because much of it is a highly protected nature reserve (look out for huge nesting storks and flamingoes in the river), but because it is owned and managed by the Espírito Santo, the country's leading banking group. The Herdade da Comporta is a swoop of coast between the Sado Estuary and the sea, 12,500 hectares comprising seven hamlets: Pego, Carvalhal, Brejos, Torre, Possanco, Carrasqueira and Comporta, too. But when people talk about Comporta, what they really mean is the region around it. And it seems unperturbed by the nascent fair-weather visitors.Ĭomporta is a village on the west coast of Portugal, about an hour's drive from Lisbon. It's hard to think of anywhere else so fertile, so abundant. The ground pours forth flowers and vegetables and fruit. Knobbly lemons the size of grapefruit hang heavy from the trees. In high summer, makeshift stalls pepper the side of the road, piled with watermelons, artichokes, tomatoes that taste of sunshine. Sandy fields bulge with organic courgettes and broccoli and pumpkins as sweet as pudding.
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