You could imagine a poncho-clad Clint Eastwood perched atop the bell tower in The Village with No Name, coolly picking off the baddies with his jaws locked on a cheroot cigar.
But instead of blood-spattered villains below, a mixologist is knocking up a tray of drinks for tourists lounging by the infinity pool.
I am one of the first guests to walk through the streets of a new ‘village’ constructed on the side of a hill, its white walls eye-blinkingly bright.
But the village is in fact a swish hotel and the properties which line the streets are suites and apartments commanding views of the rolling Barrocal countryside.
Part of the Viceroy hotel group, the Ombria is a perfect place from which to discover the hinterland of the Algarve.
The rolling hillside is rugged and sunshine beams down on a new golf course which snakes its way through the countryside like a gravity-defying green lake.
This is inland Algarve – where Old Portugal still thrives just eight miles from the sand and sangria.
Eager to explore the Parque Natural da Ria Formosa, I borrow one of the hotel’s electric bikes.
Mark Porter stays inland in the Algarve – where Old Portugal still thrives just eight miles from the sand and sangria
Sunshine beams down on a new golf course which snakes its way through the countryside
Part of the Viceroy hotel group, the Ombria is a perfect place from which to discover the hinterland of the Algarve
‘Don’t stray far as the battery doesn’t last long’, I am warned.
I know about electric bikes so ignore this and head for the town of Loule, six miles away.
The streets are full of shops selling leather and pottery; the bar terraces are spilling over and the ancient heart of the citadel is abuzz.
It is market day and a sort of giant souk sprawls through the warren of medieval alleyways – a riot of colour and smells.
I take a circuitous route back through tiny hamlets, along country lanes that plunge and buck like a roller coaster and by seemingly untouched countryside.
With some relief I spot in the far distance the Viceroy Ombria. When I get back the battery is still a third full and I’ve done at least 30 miles.
I go for a quick dip in two of the four pools, check out the gym and have a pre-dinner snifter before taking the hotel’s minibus to dinner at Al Sud – a swish artwork of glass and marble overlooking the Bay of Lagos.
On another day, I visit Silves, the old capital of the Algarve, also inland from the usual seaboard haunts.
Silves, also inboard from the usual Algarve haunts, was the old capital of the region
A fortress was constructed here in the 9th century on the banks of the river Arade, from where ships set sail to trade with North Africa.
The town is a fascinating patchwork of ancient and modern among the historic sites.
South of Silves, we stop for lunch at Morgado do Quintao, a vineyard with rooms that has been in the same family for three centuries and offers a piece of living history.
We sit under a 2,000-year-old olive tree and remind ourselves that if you wish to escape the Algarve’s selfie crowds, you don’t have to travel far.
