Thursday 24th June (Lini’s Journal)

Brindabella's Web Diary
Simon Williams
Sat 26 Jun 2010 18:36
The new day was grey, very grey. Not only was it grey but it was
drizzling and when it wasn’t drizzling it was raining, heavily. The
really unfortunate news was we had a car booked for sightseeing. Today
I wore lightweight, quick dry trousers with showerproof trousers on
top, thermal socks, Goretex Dubarry deck boots, polo shirt, fleece,
waterproof Hallberg Rassy jacket and my trusty Tilley hat and it was
perfect attire for the day: What happened to bikini and snorkel gear?
We bumped ashore in Shovell, tying him to the harbour wall then walked
up to Paula’s Place where we were due to pick up the car at 9am. We
waited, and while we waited we chatted to an eastern German guy who
was waiting to cadge a lift on the cargo ferry to Corvo for the day.
He doesn’t drive, hitches or walks everywhere and has seen as much of
the world as possible as soon as he could. Flores was his favourite
island in the archipelago and I was excited. While we waited we also
chatted to Paul and Lin who had also hired a car and are anchored just
behind us. They are also heading back to England after three years in
the Caribbean and are off to Horta next as well. No doubt we will meet
up again soon.
Flores, pronounced Floresh and meaning flowers lived up to its
name. I was last in the Azores in May 2006 and wondered if the
hydrangeas that lined the roads then on other islands would be here
and still in flower. They were and not only the hydrangeas and mauve
agapanthus, but now, in place of pink azaleas were pink rambling
roses, white, yellow and red lilies and orange montbretia. It was like
driving through a garden. The weather was unkind today and as we
skirted the coast and drove up into the mountains we saw little of the
wonderful sights we were promised through the thick mist and drizzle.
We can but dream what lay beyond the glimpses of waterfalls and lush
green mountains and gorges. With every glimpse we saw an abundance of
vibrant green foliage growing vigorously from every crevice, slope and
patch of rich red soil. We jumped in and out of the car frequently at
viewpoints in the hope of seeing more than cloud, but high in the
hills we saw nothing. Nearer to sea level things were clearer and we
saw much of the pretty villages and farmland. It always amazes me that
however small the village they always have a church, a square of some
description where people can gather and sit and very frequently a
bandstand. What we did find rather odd however was the absents of
bars and cafés and it was after midday when we finally found a tiny
café to grab a caffeine fix and Si found his favourite Portuguese nata
pastries. There was also an absents of shops. Ooo! I thought, this
place is for me.
The land was put to use, much of it bursting with budding crops of
vegetables or grazing animals. It was divided into small plots down
the terraces as well as the flats, each section neatly edged with fine
old stone walls. Where there were no walls plump cattle grazed on
juicy grass in plots edged with blue hydrangeas; a sight perfect for
any butter advert. Sweetcorn hung from frames in every garden; I
presume drying for animal feed. Small motorised tricycles and quads
pulled dinky trailers for milk churns and tools and oh how I wish the
camera was out when we passed an old boy on his donkey trudging slowly
up a hill.
Visibility out to sea tended to be better and we caught stunning
views of postcard perfect coastline. The viewpoints are always clearly
signposted and many have picnic and barbecue facilities. Not only do
they have tastefully constructed covered tables and seats, brick built
barbecues and loos, but many had sinks with running water and a supply
of wood waiting underneath. What struck us most was how beautiful the
island was and how few people were seeing and enjoying it. We passed
hardly any cars all day as we drove along great roads and when we
arrived at Santa Cruz the capital it was positively a ghost town. Our
German friend had told us there was a fiesta there this evening but as
we drove around we couldn’t even find anywhere to have lunch never
mind see signs of a celebration. Simon’s tummy had by now thought his
head had been cut off so it was great relief that as we drove back to
Lages we found the first supermarket of the day. We bought some bread
and cheese and wondered where and for what the locals shop as there
wasn’t exactly much on the shelves. In contrast to healthy crops in
the fields, the only fresh produce that wasn’t furry was cabbages and
apples that we still have heaps of on the boat.
We stopped for a beer at Paula’s place back in the harbour as the
skies finally brightened and by supper time the sun was shining and we
ate on deck with our nice bottle of Portuguese wine. We didn’t feel
like heading back to Santa Cruz to see if a fiesta did take place but
know there will plenty more on the other islands.