How Portugal killed off wild camping


wo years ago, I gave up my apartment in Leipzig, Germany. I had been living there for the past five years and loved the place. I still love the city. But I also fell in love with the idea of living in a motorhome: exploring Europe, working remotely and finding stories wherever my curiosity would take me.

And so I left Leipzig on Halloween and set off through France and Spain to Portugal. I entered the country in the north, quickly made for the coast and then took my time driving down to the Algarve, on the southern coast.

I was headed for a particular cliff near a little coastal village called Monte Clerigo. I knew the place from previous visits and it has become my favourite spot. On this cliff are a bunch of gravel car parking spaces, most of them less than 10 metres away from rugged cliffs that drop straight down to the ocean. Staying in a motorhome there feels like being spoiled in a drive-in Imax cinema with unobstructed views of the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean.

The Independent – Algarve