Point and steer

A houseboat in the Alentejo sun is a mobile family playground, writes Sally Weale.

I am not entirely new to boats. I've taken ferries, I nearly killed myself in a canoe on the Ardeche, I've spent time on a Turkish gulet, I've done feluccas in Egypt and I had a week on a barge on the England and Wales border. I have discovered I rather like boats: I like the portholes, compact kitchens and cooking on the move. In fact, I like boats so much I'm seriously considering buying one and making a new life on the water.

So, a recent trip to Portugal including a few days on a houseboat on an enormous reservoir in the middle of nowhere is a perfect opportunity to test my "sea" legs. Even better, this boat comes with sunshine and a swimming pool and without locks, tunnels or horizontal rain (though I like all that, too). The trickiest element, apart from the chemical toilet (of which more later), is parking the thing but then I find that difficult in a Nissan Micra.

As my children grow older, there are many joys but one of the small sadnesses is that they are not quite so easily pleased. Whether it's packed lunches, T-shirts, birthday parties or holidays, they now have their own strongly held views. There was a time when they were thrilled to spend a week with us anywhere. Now holidays have to be carefully negotiated around friends, girlfriends, sporting events and parties. At home we rarely spend all day together, just the four of us. And while I like boats, do they? How will we fare on a cramped motorboat on a deserted reservoir?

But that was before I'd seen the reservoir. Alqueva Lake, in the unspoilt Alentejo region of southern Portugal, is the largest lake in the country, covering a surface area of 250 square kilometres and is 83 kilometres from end to end. It was created in 2002 after the Alqueva dam was built on the Guadiana River to irrigate the impoverished and arid Alentejo. Locals were promised much from its construction. Something might still come about but probably not enough and not quickly enough for the poorest part of a country in an economic mess.

The Alentejo covers one-third of the country and is its least populated region. As you pass through, by car or on water, what strikes you is its emptiness - it's a vast, barren, unchanged and unchanging landscape. There is little development; just a few isolated villages and stunted trees.

For travellers, this is one of its great pleasures. The only tourists we meet are an English couple who had been on a boat for two weeks. He's a keen fisherman, crates of Super Bock piled up next to the rods. I have no idea how she kept herself entertained: maybe she was a keen open-water swimmer.

But for a few days, with a couple of kids, it is the most brilliant fun. The boat - worth €150,000 ($195,000) - is a mobile playground. We all want to be captain and fight to be at the wheel. We all love the GPS and the sonar system, which shows depth of water and obstacles, including large shoals of fish. It's lovely to be out on the water, self-contained and independent.

We motor gently down the length of the lake, travelling about eight knots, which feels very slow when the sun is setting and you're struggling to reach the next jetty to moor for the night, but super-fast if you're swimming and your family think it's funny to cruise away without you. Really, though, these boats are incredibly sedate - no driving licence or sailing experience is needed - and virtually without risk.