We stayed a couple of nights at Casa d'Adoa - a ridiculously cute, traditional 20th century Portuguese guest house, in Portinho, just south of Lisbon with some friends. This place is one of the most idyllic spots I've ever stayed in. It's a tiny village - there are literally only a few villas and a couple of restaurants - nestled into a little cove, perched on a long stretch of sandy white beach. When I retire, this could quite possibly be the place. I could have stayed here for a week, mooching about on the beach and eating as many clams as possible. Happy as a clam.
The clams. I could have eaten that whole bowl, but unfortunately I had to share... 
On one of the days we took the ferry across to Comporta, on Troia, (which the Guardian recently compared with Ibiza on a good day), a little peninsula of land with 13 miles of white sandy beach, another winner. All we had to do was walk a little way away from the beach bars and it was like we had the beach all to ourselves, a little slice of sandy paradise. And I even went in the sea. I love the sea, but am not good with waves (I've even tried to learn to surf to overcome this one) or cold water, so rarely venture into the Portuguese sea as there are usually big waves and being the Atlantic an' all, the water's freezing. But here the water was just perfect, a little fresh, but swimmable. 
Back to food. One evening we tried Isaias, a family run restaurant in Sesimbra, about half an hour north of where we were staying and had the most delicious spread of three different freshly grilled fish; a turbot, sea bream and black swordfish, potatoes, salad, bread and red wine, followed by puddings. Not only was it one of the most delicious meals I've ever eaten, but it cost, wait for it... (bearing in mind all that food) just 10 euros each. Yep that's £7. Cheap as chips. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, as I'd like it to remain my little secret. 
The skilled Portuguese de-boning the turbot.
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