Adores Azores

Land ho

We eagerly stepped out onto the deck to see our first land in five days.  I shivered as I watched the tiny islands of the Azores grow bigger on the horizon.  Over the last few days the temperature had gradually dropped and in the grey early morning light the cold dampness sucked away at my body heat.  We would need to don scarves and jackets to explore these remote Portuguese Islands. 

Ponta Delgada, Sao Miguel Island, Azores 

Our destination today was Sao Miguel, one of nine volcanic islands that make up the archipelago of the Azores.  Sao Miguel is around the size of Singapore, but we were 900 miles of the coast of Portugal and way more remote.  We docked in the capital Ponta Delgada which means thin point in Portuguese.  This wasn't the first time I had visited this tiny resupply depot for ships and planes.  The last time I had been here was so long ago I couldn't even remember where I was on route to or from.  I had barely stayed an hour peering blurry eyed through an aircraft window as we refueled in the dead of night.  

Portas da Cidada (Town Gates)

This time, arriving by boat, provided a much more majestic welcome.  The rays of light filtered through the mist creating a monochrome sepia which accentuated the low level antique buildings.  We walked back in time from the new concrete port side structures to the historic centre.  The cobble stone streets were of a vintage I had never seen and the black and white decor threw me into a Shakespearean time warp. 

"God gave the Portuguese a small country as a cradle 

but all the world as their grave." 

Antonio Vieira 

The kids were more interested in the horse carriages than the architecture.  Settled by the Portuguese in the early 1400's the Azores became a strategic axis for navigation and the islands have been fiercely contested over the centuries.  The Coat of Arms on the clock tower read "Antes morrer livres que em paz sujeitos", it means "rather die free than in peace be subjugated".  I began to ponder the Portuguese, a tiny nation with a long history of conquering the oceans and exploring distant shores.  What kind of spirit did it take for a culture to survive on these far flung islands?

Wandering aimlessly through the old streets gave us a chance to smell the hydrangeas, the national flower of this island.  When the first settlers arrived here there was little else other than flowers and birds.  Luckily for us things had developed since then and as the rain began pelting down there were plenty of tourist shops to duck into for cover.

One curious little shop held a mix of kitsch souvenirs (mostly made from lava) and dusty antiquities.  Killing time until the downpour abated I wandered deeper into the store's dusty depths.  There on the wall, probably more as decoration than inventory, I discovered an old map of Africa.  In truth it was more an outline of Sub-Saharan Africa with a blank interior.  Perhaps this was the kind of rough chart David Livingstone used in his explorations for the source of the Nile.  The  intrigue and the setting compelled me to investigate the story behind this treasure.  I wished a "bom dia" to the heavyset Señora and gestured in the direction of the map.  She referred me to her elderly gnarled husband who sat quietly at a worn desk in the rear.  Converting my poor Spanish into even worse  Portuguese, with a few "Abrigados" and a bright smile I managed to ascertain he had bought the map in London.  I pushed my communication skills to breaking point to uncover his relationship with the turn of the century framed cartography.  As a young man he had been conscripted into the Army and sent to Angola, then a colony of Portugal.  Our affinity for Africa was the real connective tissue of the conversation.  He was keen to sell the piece after decades on the wall and I desperately wanted to buy the map and take it back to England.  But this was a cumbersome souvenir, the rain had abated and the kids were fractious and anxious to move over to the cafe.  I muttered a reluctant half hearted promise to think about it and come back later.  Perhaps the antique African map from the old curiosity shop was best left in my imagination rather than appearing on my credit card bill.

With no authentication it could have been a 400 euro fake.  I realized I didn't have to actually own the map or a wall to put it on. I already had the story and the memory attached to it and that was way easier to package and carry.  But suddenly I now had 400 euros burning a hole in my pocket so I bought a heavy woven silver ring from a jeweler who let us shelter in his store during yet another brief downpour.  By the time we had shopped and sheltered our way back to the port the clouds had cleared and the warm sunshine had us stripping down to t-shirts and looking for shade.

Boy, Portside, Ponta Delgada 

In a fit of irony Josh bought a hat that he hoped would clear up any confusion about his long hair.  It came in handy in the late afternoon sunshine.

“Man cannot discover new oceans 

unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.”

Andre Gide

By the time we were back on board the kids were having chlorine withdrawals and bolted straight for the hot tub.  As our day in the Azores drew to a close I sipped on a beer and squinted out to the blue horizon as it turned indigo.  After 3 straight days at sea the next 2 without land would be plain sailing.  Miami seemed so far behind us and my thoughts were of conclusion and reaching England.