The bus to Curral das Freiras climbs up from the coast hugging the ragged edge of a deep valley. Views are stunning even before we disembark at the miradouro (viewpoint) of Eira do Serrado (only some buses will go up to the viewpoint on request, so check the schedule’s fine print carefully).

The balcony at Eira do Serrado juts out from a rock ledge almost 500m over the floor of a dramatic natural amphitheatre whose walls are formed by steep, heavily ridged mountains. In the centre of this forest-flocked crater nestles the white and orange lego-block houses of Curral das Freiras – our morning walk’s destination.

Descending the crater walls, the path is steep and every step is accompanied by a panorama that keeps on giving. Light shifts and clouds roll, so that every zag of the path wows anew. Tranquil and beautiful – it’s like gently slipping your eyeballs into a view jacuzzi. Another walk where the crowds are quickly left behind.

The horde of tourists crammed into the tacky souvenir shops of Curral das Freiras are like a bucket of cold water. But we’ve got our hearts (and stomachs) set on a local restaurant up in the mountains that’s known for its espetada (meat skewers). Google maps in hand, we follow the little blue line … to a road tunnel. Our actual path ends up taking an hour-long slog up, up and up into the mountains. The only people we meet on the way: a group who’ve come by 4×4 to do canyoning in such a remote spot. The guide looks surprised to see us and fumbles for a flyer.

Restaurante O Lagar Antiguidades is in Curral das Freiras in the same way that budget airlines fly into Bratislava (Slovakia) and call it Vienna (Austria) or Stansted and call it London – even though they’re an hour away. We arrive hot and knackered. Luckily that also means we arrive hungry.

I ask the lady what she recommends for us 3. Chicken espetada with bread, medium potatoes and salad. ‘É a carne de vaca?’ we ask, to which she replies, “Maybe not enough for 3, chicken better”. So we order both! We know it’s too much, but are prepared to fill pockets if needs be. Turns out everything is super-delicious and little is left.

The 2 massive kebabs are heavily seasoned before being pushed into a wood-fired oven where hot charcoal seers and carbonises to create crispy, salty umami on the outside with a juicy centre. They are then hung from an impressive wrought iron stand like 2 meaty candles glistening with dripping tallow.

They are delicious. The beef, the chicken – oh my goodness, they’re sublime. Succulent melt-in-your-mouth meat with a salty, smoky crust … and the beef has a ‘green’ rosemary-like flavour infused from being skewered on a stick of laurel. With meat this good, the tactic should be not to fill up on cheap carbs. But the sides are equally perfect. Smoky sweet potato and skin-on new potatoes, fresh bread and crisp salad. We demolish most of it.

On paying, I order a cheeky ginja (cherry liqueur) which is one of the things Curral das Freiras is famous for. There’s just me and half a dozen old fellas at the bar doing the same. I get a nod and I nod back – in the unspoken language of bars around the world this means, ‘Ah, I see he’s partaking in a shot of the good stuff while he’s slipped the family for a moment.’ A contented sigh is in lieu of a cigar.

We’re surprised to see a bus stop right outside – but the buses only reach here once a day – so we hike back, stopping for another ginja (well, it is a local delicacy) from a very local bar as we wait for an Uber home (no sign of the scheduled bus). There are only 4 elderly gentlemen – and maybe as many teeth between them – in the dingy bar; they don’t look strangers to it. I manage to greet, order, apologise for only having a €20 and thank the bemused barmaid all in Portuguese while the octogenarian crowd stares fixedly at me. This isn’t the tacky souvenir shops where the tour buses stop.