Land of 143 250 m2 with house, warehouse and ruins for sale in Laranjeira - Monchique, Algarve.
Unique opportunity with the possibility of investment and construction of a tourist project located in an area of fantastic nature.
Land of 143 250 m2 for sale in Laranjeira - Monchique, Algarve.
This property (urban and rustic) offers a natural spring and access to a breathtaking view over the countryside and the mountains of Monchique, close to the waterfalls, viewpoints and Caldas.
Composed of :
- Dwelling house with 117 m2 with kitchen, entrance, dining room, 2 bedrooms, 1 bathroom,
- Huge garage/storage room with wine cellar and two bathrooms
- Two ruins (190 m2 and 81.7 m2)
-Garden and natural water spring
- Building land
Location 15 km from the centre of Portimão, 18 km from the nearest beach and 76 km from Faro airport.
Don't miss this opportunity and book a visit
Beauty is also tiring because of what it conveys to us in emotion. It is enough for the color to be a scream, it is enough for the mutations to collide. So let us flee from the blues, the reds, the yellows, let us refresh our tired spirit a little. Only green will serve as a balm and Monchique will be the next point to reach.
The mountains, seen from afar, are nothing more than a good photographic background, Stop looking at these salty terrains. They are sad and barren as death.
The Boia stream runs to the left and the ground begins to convulse. The hills gradually take on height, join each other in deep folds, and the road winds between shale barriers like a reptile buffeted by the sun.
The vegetation thickens. Profiled acacia trees flank the tarmaced, black lane, and the small patches of pine forest descend to us.
Now, acacias, cedars and eucalyptus trees almost intertwine, defying the sun's rays to pierce through their compact foliage. A two-metre extension takes us to the hot springs.
Let us descend into Paradise. A canopy of foliage protects us and the clear stream runs softly around pebbles, sometimes black, sometimes reddish. Small eyes of the sun mark luminous circles on the brown earth. A bridge... A small waterfall... The cicadas sing and everything is green around us.
The water is digging into the schist extracts, it goes deeper and deeper, and the path tightens, it strangles. Underneath a disjointed dam, beyond the arch of a bridge.
A little note. Blue hydrangeas... A snob garden pond... Three eucalyptus trees in whose trunks romantic girls have carved hearts and written verses... A stone table... A source... The source of Loves.
Some large stones, which stopped when they encountered any obstacle, resemble the sown wells of the Zêzere valley. On the way to Monchique, the terraced slopes sometimes look like Roman amphitheatres.
Once the ascent to Foia has begun, let's look around. At the front, the soft green patchwork of the soutos that rise on either side of the Serra stream; at our feet the steps of a monumental staircase that descends to the Foot of the Cross and to the north the village that seems to lie on the edge of a hill.
Where he found an inch of arable land, man erected walls of defense against erosion and planted gardens. How painful your effort... Water runs everywhere. It makes us want to fall flat in a prayer to the earth...
The trees are low in density as we climb, the sharp edges of the stone masses are daggers that seek to hurt us, the air becomes purer, the temperature drops and the mountain welcomes us contemptuously.
A wide curve... The pyramid of Foia...
We lose track of distances, we seem to be leaning over a map in relief. The Alentejo, in its vastness, stretches as if it were... The outline of the coast appears sharp, creased... light stains of many houses together. Portimão... Alvor... Lakes... The sands of Meia Praia... Further afield, Sagres and S. Vicente... And to the sides of Aljezur the mountains look like full bellies.
