In the rolling hills and sun-drenched fields of Vila do Bispo, at the far westernmost point of the Algarve, José Manuel Gonçalves, affectionately known as Sr. Zé Manuel, has dedicated his life to the ancient art of beekeeping. His journey reflects not just his personal evolution but also mirrors the sweeping changes in the Algarve, from the days of subsistence farming through the upheaval of revolution and war to the burgeoning of tourism that has reshaped the region.
Roots in rural simplicity
Born in the rural countryside near Sagres, José Manuel’s early memories are steeped in the simplicity and community of farm life. “We sold a little bit of products to the cooperatives,” he recalls, “but everything was different back then.” With his father as a farmer, Zé Manuel and his family lived a life defined by hard work and interdependence. “There was a sense of trust; we could leave our doors unlocked,” he remembers fondly. This collective spirit of cooperation was fundamental in a time where survival relied on the goodwill of neighbours. “You could borrow money from a neighbour, and a handshake was binding. Everyone always paid their debts,” he recalls.
In those days there were only four years of schooling and, like the rest of his community, he left education at the age of ten. When he was around 11 years old, Sr.Zé Manuel helped in a small motorcycle workshop before going to work in the hotel industry like so many of his generation. He worked at the Hotel Baleira, which is now called Memo Baleira.
As Zé Manuel transitioned into adulthood, he found himself sailing the world with the Merchant Navy, a career sparked by the need to avoid conscription during the Portuguese Overseas War. He was at the Merchant Navy School when the Revolution of 25 April took place. He remembers he had a teacher there who was a navy captain. He disappeared that day and they never knew what happened to him.
Zé served for 19 years on board the tankers of the Portuguese company Soponata, making long voyages to the Persian Gulf to pick up oil for Sines and Leixões. “It was four or five months at sea, then we had our rest on land, and then we’d go back to the ship again.” During this time, he married and started a family. And in those days communicating with your family from the ship was complicated. “I sent a telegram saying that I was going to make a phone call stating the day and hour. Then, there were not many phones in people’s houses, so my wife would go to a public phone at that time. Then having a conversation was not easy as every time you ended a sentence you had to say ‘over’!”
The experiences garnered during his voyages provided him with a unique lens through which to view the world, yet it was the roots of his youth that eventually beckoned him back.
The rise of tourism
By the mid-1970s, the Algarve began its transformation into a tourism hotspot. “In 1973 or 1974 is when tourism developed,” Zé Manuel recalls. This shift led many, including himself, away from traditional rural jobs. “In the countryside, you work from dawn until dusk. You worked 16, 12, 14 hours. If you went to work for a hotel, you worked for eight hours, and you always had food.”
But rather than abandon the traditions of his upbringing, he returned to Vila do Bispo, where he inaugurated the local Municipal Market and served as the fiscal director, connecting him once more to the land and its bounty.
It was during this time that his love for beekeeping was ignited. “I started helping a relative who had beehives, and the taste grew as I discovered the craft, discovered the trade. At that time, there was no internet or YouTube videos to learn how to do things,” he recalls.
Following in the footsteps of his father and grandfather, who kept hives in grapevine trunks, Zé’s passion blossomed when family members encouraged him to take up the bees seriously. “I had no idea about beekeeping, but they thought I had a knack for it,” he laughs. Despite initial resistance, ten boxes of bees were gifted to him, and thus began his journey as an apiarist.
Bee culture in the Algarve
I stand in Zé´s small factory Casa do Mel in the heart of Sagres where he brings his honey from the hives to be processed. I am surprised at the simplicity. The honey is extracted from the hives while Zé wafts smoke to sedate the bees. A honey extractor is used, where the honeycomb frames are spun to release the honey. Then it is transferred to large stainless steel tanks where all the impurities naturally float to the top, leaving the bees’ ambrosia at the bottom. Zé only needs to turn a tap to allow me to sample the delicious bounty.
The medronho flavour is my least favourite, but I am sure other palettes may find it appealing as it is less sweet. My favourite is the multi-floral honey when the bees collect pollen from different plants. It has a more accentuated flavour which is less bitter.
“When we remove the honey from the hive, there are frames, which have a little bit of one flower and the rest of the other. When they start to put honey in a frame, the bees don’t fill the frame. The next flowering that comes, they will complete the frame,” he explains.
Today, Zé Manuel’s hives stretch from Pedralva to Sagres, with each location chosen for the unique flora that influences the taste of his honey – from the medronho to the fragrant orange blossom. Fascinatingly, he explains that the Algarve’s climate, devoid of pesticides thanks to a more traditional agricultural approach, is actually beneficial for the health of his bees. “In this respect, we are considered privileged,” he states, taking pride in the quality of his honey derived from a toxin-free environment.
When he can make honey also depends on the flowering times of the plants and so having bees in different locations hedges your bets, so to speak. For example, while most honey is made in spring, the medronho plants flower after the rains in October and November, so the bees make honey during this period.
“I’ve had over 400 hives and, in spring, each hive can have 10,000 bees. In summer, when there are no flowers, it probably drops to two or three thousand bees per hive. Spring is undoubtedly the busiest season in this industry, but there is no shortage of work all year round, and the bees don’t observe public holidays or weekends. In autumn, we clean the boxes, remove and polish the waxes, and sanitise them to get rid of pests. During the winter we prepare everything for the start of the new year, which doesn’t mean that the hives are not active.”
Yet, this age-old practice is not without its challenges. The increasing impact of climate change looms large over Zé’s operations. “Our biggest problem is disease, particularly the varroa mite,” he laments, detailing how unpredictable weather patterns complicate both bee health and honey production. The long, hot summers and fluctuating winter temperatures are wreaking havoc on bee populations, forcing them to expend extra energy just to maintain hive temperature.
A labour of love
The financial viability of beekeeping is not what it once was, as Zé acknowledges. Honey production has diminished in profitability, primarily because of rising costs and declining bee health. “It’s more a labour of love now,” he confesses. While he once produced up to four thousand kilos of honey a season, he now prioritises quality over quantity, offering his products to local markets and restaurants rather than pursuing larger operations.
Yet, despite the challenges, Zé Manuel remains undeterred. He finds joy in the intricate workings of his hives, where each bee plays a vital role in the ecosystem. From the meticulous process of honey production to the bees’ role in pollination, his connection to these industrious creatures runs deep. He shares a fascinating observation: “If the queen dies, the bees reproduce her. Worker bees then choose fertilised eggs to raise into new queens, feeding them a special diet of royal jelly. They are a resilient species in that respect.”
Today, the story of Sr. Zé Manuel is one of perseverance, nostalgia and reverence for tradition in an era marked by constant change. As the Algarve continues to evolve, Sr. Zé Manuel stands as a guardian of the past, ensuring that the love for bees and the vital work they do remains alive amidst the challenges of modern life. “As keepers of bees, we’re veiled in both history and the hope for our future,” he reflects.
As I leave with the sweet taste of honey on my lips, I reflect that Zé Manuel´s work embodies the spirit of resilience that characterises not just beekeeping but the very essence of the Algarve itself.
The next generation
While I was in Sagres, I met 33-year-old Raquel Cravinho, who keeps bees in Budens and regularly posts on Instagram about her apiculture under the tag of Bee Mary. I am interested to know what is motivating the younger generation to keep bees.
“My father was a beekeeper. And I learned from him. And then my father passed away. He had all the equipment. And after two years, I took the empty and old hives and I caught my first swarms.”
Raquel first learnt what she could from books and then asked Sr Zé, an old family friend, to mentor her.
“I also started learning from Sr. Zé because he has been doing this for many years.” Raquel works as an architect and so beekeeping is a hobby. She is the only female and youngest beekeeper she is aware of in the district and sells biological honey.
“I admire her because she is young, and there are many distractions for young people but she is enjoying it,” says Sr Zé.
“It is not easy,” admits Raquel. “It’s heavy work and often you are working in the hot sun in big suits so you have to enjoy it a lot.”
But as with many of her generation, she uses Instagram to connect with beekeepers from all over Portugal and the world. And their biggest preoccupation is preserving this amazing species, which is so essential to the environment but is under threat.
“I try to share and educate people about bee issues, health issues and environment issues. For other people to have a little idea of the importance of bees and the care that we should have for them. To raise awareness is important.”
