Me again! A little bit of explanation is probably necessary before we start our next walk. One half of this couple was not all that keen to go to the Azores. For one thing, he doesn’t like airports or flying. There were 6 flights involved in this holiday. Secondly, only one of us drives, and the other is, shall we say ‘inconsistent’, with navigating. Yes, even with Google Maps. It has led to the odd fracas on previous jaunts. In the interests of harmony, we had agreed that on this holiday we would use taxis or public transport, and that he would not hire a car unless absolutely necessary.
As it happens, public transport is extremely limited on the islands, and taxi hire a perfectly reasonable and accepted alternative to driving on some of the more tricky roads. So it was that a lovely lady named Zélia, with bright orange finger nails and a dazzling smile, was driving us to the top of the island of Sáo Jorge. Think ‘very steep’. We left our base in Velas on a beautiful sunny morning, but were dismayed to find that high up on the mountain the mists were swirling damply. Zélia informed us, with a cheery smile, that this was often the case, but that it would be fine further down. Then she drove off, promising to pick us up again at 5.30pm at our destination, leaving us looking at each other in dismay. Neither of us were clothed for wet weather, but at least I had on sensible shoes.
Which I needed! Peering ahead and hoping that the going would not get too hard, we edged gingerly into the mists. It was a little slippery under foot and concentration was needed, but I felt elated to be up there. We started out at a height of 700 metres, and dropped relentlessly to ground level. Tough on the knees, but I have to say that I’ve never done a more spectacular walk. As the cloud swirled around us, occasionally we would catch an encouraging glimpse of the sea, far below.
What fascinated though was the appearance of the shrubs and trees. Living their lives shrouded in moisture, many were clad in a thick fungal moss.
As the mist cleared a little, we stopped to munch on a couple of biscuits and restore our equilibrium. Nothing was familiar, from the rickety, roped-together gates, to the trees, sprouting unexpectedly. And then I spotted my first hydrangea.
We had thought that we were alone on the trail, but voices alerted us to the fact that we were being followed. And then, ahead of us on the path, Ma and Pa, and two calves. All of us showed the parents the greatest respect, but they seemed very placid and not at all alarmed at human presence. The calves were a little more skittish and took avoidance action.
We exchanged pleasantries with the couple, who we were to meet again, picnicking by a waterfall. Hopefully the worst of the descent was behind us, and we could look forward to a first glimpse of Caldeira de Santo Cristo. Meanwhile we could enjoy nature’s playground, marveling at the ginger lilies and an abundance of tiny pink pom-poms.
And then suddenly, there it was in the distance, and I was challenged as to which view was better, the one ahead, or behind. What a landscape!
It must be at about this stage that my husband’s knee began to play up. Timing, huh? The impact of all that downhill. We took it as slowly as we could, which wasn’t hard because the views were stunning, but you still needed to concentrate on your footing.
Just in time we reached the sanctuary of Santo Cristo. The church wall was the ideal place to sit and admire the Fajá (low ground) and salt water lake, and munch another couple of biscuits. Looking at the map, we realised that we had only completed half the walk, and our final destination was nowhere in sight. We had lived with worse views!
Luckily we had plenty of time, but the remainder of the walk was not as flat as we could have hoped and I could feel my husband wince at every downward step, let alone the ups. Fajá dos Cubros still seemed a long way off.
Fortunately there were distractions. In places workmen were repairing the track, and at one point gestured for us to walk forward through a trench of what looked like newly poured concrete. Naturally we proceeded with caution. Elsewhere there were signs of slippage and a new bridge was under construction. Winter storms had taken their usual toll. Slowly and painfully we covered the last of the ground, and I don’t know which of us was more relieved to see the spire of Nossa Senhora de Lourdes.
I do know that it was wonderful to sit beneath the vines in that serene and lovely spot. And who should be there but our nice French couple, eating icecream. Seemed like a good idea, but first I had a glass of wine, while I listened to their story.
But I couldn’t leave it there! With Mick sitting peacefully, I had to look at the lagoon at Fajá dos Cubros. The stillness of the place was remarkable. I don’t know when I have experienced anything like it. Lava bridges separated the pools, and the light was starting to fade a little. I was all alone, with this haunting, eery beauty.
Just minutes later, Zélia collected us, full of apologies. She runs a little cleaning business in addition to taxi-driving. A cleaner had phoned in sick, and she’d had to cover for her, making her slightly late. She more than compensated as she swept us back over the majestic mountain, chattering merrily, and stopping to let us look back down at the view. What a day! Should you be tempted, the 10km walk was PR01 SJO.
I don’t know if you’ll agree, but I think this is possibly the most beautiful walk I have ever undertaken. I had half written the post when I came upon Ann-Christine’s Lens-Artists challenge for this week. I know that she loves these islands as much as I do, and would like to dedicate this walk to her. I think that there are just enough Trees.
Sorry if this is a bit long-winded, (and no cake, Brian!) but it is such a powerful memory for me. I’ve attempted to keep track of all the walks in my absence, but if I’ve missed anyone, I’m sorry. Just give me a nudge. Normal service resumed on Jo’s Monday walk.
You know when Debbie says casual amble, that it won’t be. Anything but! Another place that I love!
It’s a beautiful part of the world, and even better with great weather. Thanks, Margaret!
Chihuly and Kew in the same sentence, with a little bit of whimsy from Geoff :
Janet takes us wandering in France. You never know what you might find…
There are still some places that I’m cross with myself for not seeing. Natalie shares a few, here :
Sounds like a sitcom, but life with Jude is never that. It’s more about sharing beauty :
If you go down to the woods today… you might well find Susanne
Or for something more exotic, try Drake’s place :
A grey reminder of England, in a city I know to be lovely. Thanks, Rosemay!
An unusual one from Tammy :
Days 18-21 on Cathy’s road. Some good, some bad, but with a happy ending :
‘Get your kicks on Route 84’ just doesn’t sound right somehow, now does it?
Rupali shares the beauty of the Land of the Midnight Sun :
Ending with a display of the military that made me smile, from Carol. Read why over in her comments :
Have a great week, everybody! I’ve heard that Summer is about to begin in Britain. Good news, hey?