'Having blue rope in your boot has got nothing to do with wealth'

9 am. My three sisters and I are in a taxi, heading towards Pestana Palace Hotel where my brother is staying; he’s invited us to join him for breakfast on the terrace and spend the morning in the hotel grounds before we fly home from Lisbon this afternoon.

We cannot get there quickly enough; a brief Google search has just revealed that the hotel, a restored nineteenth century palace, boasts five stars and a list of former guests that includes Prince. 10am.

We’re lying by the outdoor pool which is set in lush gardens. London sister is lying on the sun lounger beside mine but she keeps turning her head ever so slightly this way and that. She’s wearing dark sunglasses, but I know her eyes are darting about behind them.