Girls, I'm telling you, the Algarve is the place to go if you're on the hunt. This is the place to catch a man.

But the men seething around our hotel like tadpoles in March were strictly husband material -- no toyboys. These are solid, white-haired golfing men, serious about their sport.

As well they might be. The Algarve is gorgeous golf country, with a kindly warmth that led Christy O'Connor Jnr to move there for a considerable part of his year. The culture has won his heart -- so much that we met him as he launched his own Portuguese wine; rich, delicious and redolent of sun and sea and produced by a nice guy -- Christy still has that Galway sweetness, unspoiled by his fame.

We stayed in Vilamoura, a marina built in the 1970s for tourism. Our comfy hotel, the Vila Gale Ampalius, was beside a sandy beach with blue sea inviting you in with every crash of the waves and pools if you prefer the less wavy swim.

The Ampalius is cosy and friendly, and has a breakfast that will knock your socks off -- the best scrambled eggs I've tasted in years -- important when you're facing into some serious golf.

gift

Which we weren't, but at the Amendoeira course, golf-pro Nelson Cavalheiro (named after Nelson Mandela, by the way) is a gifted teacher who made even unpromising pupils hit the ball straight. Not far, but straight.

For girly girls, there was other important business. Just a step from our hotel was the Tivola Marina, with its Angsana spa, run by soft-voiced Thai women. A treatment there is pure bliss -- you're drenched in scented oil and massaged for an hour with gentle lights and music, until you're in a Zen state -- and raving with the hunger.

Luckily, the Marisqueira restaurant is an easy walk from the Ampalius. Warning: it's hopping on summer nights, and you need to book.

cataplana

In the Algarve -- the southern 200km of Portugal with one of the best fishing coasts in the world -- this means fish, served in every delicious combination. The central dish is cataplana, cooked in a pot like two copper woks clamped together. This is filled with chicken or cod, clams, tomatoes, herbs, garlic and white wine, and steamed until the flavours are intense.

The Algarve still has a North African feel -- five centuries of Arab occupation left behind architecture, a scattering of Arabic words, and a taste for sea-blue tiles and silver jewellery.

They've taken to tourism with the joy of the hospitable. "The first son used to inherit the good land," our local expert told us. "The second son got the bad coastal land. But then tourism came -- and now the second son is the millionaire."

It's well worth hiring a car and driving yourself around. Portuguese driving is a little crazy but relaxed. You can go to Loule, a hilly town with medieval houses where you can buy craft-made cataplanas, tiles, pottery and leatherwork.

There's a myth in Portugal of King Sebastian, who disappeared in battle in the 15th century; beautiful, young, blond, god-like. According to the story, in his country's hour of need, Sebastian will return. He's got a point -- anyone who has visited the Algarve will want to go back, often.

where to go

- Lucille Redmond