guide of the forest

It was hard to leave Antonio and Lino's upcycled Bohemian spread and Sao Miguel, but Faial beckoned. A small island in the central group, whose only real town Horta is a famous boating harbor.

Faial is a world away, even by Azorean standards. The flight takes about 45 minutes. The sun was a lot hotter, hitting 80º with the reflection on the volcanic bricks, and just as humid.

I'm staying in a spectacular guesthouse, with a corner room looking out on Monte do Guia, the forest guide. There's a small chapel at the top.

 In the center is Porto Pim beach, where people swim. Downtown Horta lies to the left.

 I love the architecture here. It's a strange mix of Colonial and modern.

With tropical trees to remind you this isn't the European mainland.

 A bit of Art Nouveau in pastels

And the azulejos, the famous blue ceramic tiles Portugal is famous for. There's some argument as to whether the Portuguese adapted the pottery style from the Chinese or vice versa.

 As you get closer to the center, the buildings are grander.

 Even the ugly buildings are beautiful here.

 A guardian angel outside someone's home.

I stopped for a snack, some wifi, and World Cup watching. Germany lost! Brazil won! The soup of the day was spinach, followed by this butter tart. I asked what it was called in Portuguese. "We call it a tartelette, because it's small," the woman said.

The dominant feature of Faial isn't even on this island: it's Pico volcano on nearby Pico island. Pico creates its own weather and was surrounded by clouds most of the day. This climate makes it perfect for...wine production. More on that, later this week.

This fountain in the park (made of lava rocks) spurts water, not lava.

Joanie might enjoy this low-tech approach to Azorean history: post photos of people who lived and worked in this house.

Hard work accomplished, I went to Peter's bar, a famous Horta watering hole for 100 years. It's right on the marina. Like everyone else, they had a TV set up for the World Cup.

Limpets in garlic butter with a perfect gin and tonic, which Peter's is known for. They're cheaper inside, but at less than $4 a piece, I'll sit outside by the boats.

Which is how I met Kai, who just brought a sailboat from Newport, Rhode Island and is spending the summer restoring it for a wealthy American.

We talked about Bruce Lee and the Milky Way and the four As (agua, alimentos, alojar, amor), and also about baseball and rum, the drink of pirates. He even ate a pirate steak. And then it was time to sober up and make my way back to a conference call with Pacific Daylight Time about a potential project.

Why yes, that is a red windmill. Azores are full of surprises.

Appropriately, my guesthouse is on a street named for Azorean writer and journalist Manuel Greaves.

On a clear day, you can see Pico through that gap above Porto Pim. Maybe tomorrow.

water nymphs

A day that involves swimming and soaking in hot springs warmed by a volcano is a very good day. Especially when it ends at Lagoa de Fogo, in a volcanic crater, above. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Antonio recommended I take the hop on/hop off bus to Ribeira Grande, a village on the north shore of Sao Miguel. Highways are good here, so it only took about 15 minutes. Each seat has a headset jack, so the drivers play a tape that corresponds to the location. Not a bad deal for 14 euros.

Last month was the ghost festival, which happens on all the islands. Sao Miguel is known as the green island. You'll see why soon.

Azorean buildings have distinctive black lava bricks. They're used in the streets too.

According to the bus audio, which also featured the music of Madredeus!, Sao Miguel was first discovered by Europeans in the 14th century (not sure if there were any indigenous people), and was a frequent stop of Genovese in the 15th. 

Christopher Columbus came on the way to the Americas to restock, and was arrested. In the early 19th century, Jewish merchants began to come here. Portugal has perhaps always been a melting pot, with Christians, Jews, and Muslims and sea farers. These islands off the coast of where Europe meets Africa even moreso.

I took a short walk to the northern edge of the bay. There's a big public swimming pool (1.5 euros admission plus .5 euros for a locker) and a public beach.

 Don't forget sunscreen.

This is the view facing west from the swimming pool and public beach. There's a cove famous for surfing to the far left.

Cheese break. I headed back to the main square for a snack. This is Sao Jorge (aka St George), an island I'll be visiting. Not a coincidence that one of my favorite Sonoma cheese is St George, from the Matos family. 

Laranjada is a local orange soda. Portugal grew oranges for export to Britain until a blight wiped them out in the 19th century.

Traffic light condiments. Back on the bus. The next stop was Caldeira Velha, a park on the edge of the volcano. 

 The forest is breathtaking.

 Spring water from the volcano feeds a variety of pools.

I probably could have gotten a better picture, but I wasn't willing to risk my phone for a selfie under the waterfall.

 This place wasn't even on my top ten for the Azores, but it was unmissable.

 A whole ecosystem in miniature.

 I don't remember Costa Rica being this lush. Maybe because it rained so much.

The last leg of the loop took us up to Lagoa do Fogo, up Fogo volcano, for a view in every direction.

Yeah.

I headed back to the guesthouse, where Antonio created a completely custom itinerary for the rest of my days on Sao Miguel. It's that kind of place. Also he offered me a home-made snack, a quiche with asparagus. He and Lino are excellent cooks. They are also both on diets and can't eat the banana cinnamon bread or breakfast burritos they lovingly prepare for guests.

After a shower, I thought it might be nice to see the sun set, and jokingly asked if there was a rooftop bar in town. Turns out the fancy hotel around the corner has one—with a sushi bar.

Who needs a Wimpi snack bar when you can have this?

To get here, I had to find the entrance behind a hidden door on a hall full of guest rooms. (It's the white doorbell on the right.)

Local fish for the win. With passionfruit sauce.

A little pricey, by Azorean standards. But well worth it.

Tomorrow I'm flying to Horta, in the central Azorean group. Lots of excitement to come.

island time

Bom dia from Ponta Delgada! Where? you ask. The Azores. 

Part of Portugal and occupied since the 15th century, the Azores are 1500 kilometers west of mainland Europe, in the middle of the Atlantic. So sailors have been arriving at these volcanic outposts for hundreds of years.

Delta began nonstop service a month ago to Ponta Delgada on Sao Miguel, the largest town on the largest island. It only takes four and a half hours from JFK (plus delays) or two hours from Lisbon. 

There are 9 islands in three groups, and Sao Miguel is the easternmost. Later this week, I'll fly to the middle group.

The little I've seen so far is drop-dead gorgeous. I saw Joel and Sheila's photos from a trip two years ago, especially the lagoon-filled craters, and knew I had to come.

I was also exhausted (a combination of jet lag from flying in the wrong direction plus a week in Florida resolving family health issues). So I'm going to take it easy. Fortunately, that's not hard to do.

Antonio sent me to the market, and warned me to wear heavy sunscreen. The climate is temperate (68 to high 70s) but very humid, so everything grows in the rich volcanic soil.

Including pineapples! There are pineapple-shaped platters in my room. The pottery that's not shaped like pineapples is shaped like cabbage leaves.

Did I mention they make cheese? Don't worry, I will.

I promised Aunt Barbara more food photos, so here's lunch from Tasca, a traditional local joint.

 The menu looks like a newspaper. (Remember those?)

This was a fresh cheese topped with sweet pepper jam and nuts and wrapped in leaves. It was pretty incredible.

Garlic toast made with bolo levedo, the Portguese version of English muffins, but much better.

Vegans, look away! This is morcilla, blood sausage, served with grilled pineapple. An odd but delicious combination. I also had a glass of wine (which they cultivate on Pico and Graciosa), because in Europe, house wine (<$2) is cheaper than water.

 Then it was time to head to the square, where people were sitting in the shade, drinking coffee.

There's a public swimming pool, but most people swim in the sea. The Atlantic is warmer than the Pacific, but still a little chilly.

 I dipped my toes in and people watched.

Oh yes, it's Açores. (Like açai.) Portuguese is a strange and beautiful language. So close to Spanish when written and yet so far.

 Scenes from my adorable guesthouse.

 The dining room table reminded me of a papaya.

 

Portugal just advanced to the next round in the World Cup tonight, defeating Iran. So I guess I need to learn a little about soccer while I'm learning Portuguese. Or just drink gin and tonics and pretend.

 A whole cabinet of teas. What's not to love?

Tomorrow: off to explore another side of the island, with a hike at a crater and more delicious food and culture. Obrigado!

More info on the Azores, which will make you want to come here.