Bermuda to the Azores - if sailing was always like this, I guess everyone would be doing it?
31 May to 14 June 2012
7 days in: We promised Eoin the full sailing experience but I'm not entirely sure he has had it yet. We are currently 10 days into the trip and so far have only had one frustrating day and night of sailing, in light winds with the cruising chute up, or headsail poled out and goose winging, or wind changing to directions which were not forecast. He has only been soaked a little, once. We've had a bit of rain and grey days, but also a tolerable amount of sunshine. We've caught a fish, a perfecting portioned-for-three Mahi-Mahi. We've been swimming on a calm day. We've had drinks every night at sunset, eaten gourmet meals and chocolate fudge slice (the sarcasm doesn't come across in text - I'm the cook!). And we are all getting plenty of sleep. Eoin has been heard to exclaim almost every day "I could do this forever". This is most definitely NOT the full sailing experience we expected to show him, it's far too cushy. But bloody hell it's great!
My theory, by the way, is that in having an extra set of hands around in case of trouble, we are not going to need it. Sort of like, using reverse psychology on the weather. So far it has worked, but we still have about 1000nm too go.
The watches we are keeping on this passage are so great that we've been threatening to kidnap Eoin and take him all the way back to Ireland, just so we can continue getting a decent amount of sleep every day. We have 2 hours on then 4 hours off each through the night. Then Eoin and Ian share the watches during the day and I cook. It's all so much more relaxing than when it's just the two of us, but still it's incredible how fast you can pass the time each day. By far one of the most entertaining (and certainly frustrating) time of the day is what we call 'Herb Hour', initially muttered in very hushed and respectful tones. However now, after being 'blanked' over the radio and chastised for pronouncing our own boat name incorrectly we have renamed him The Herbinator. This incident is quite comical now, I mean, do you think we'd know how to pronounce our own boat name after 5 years??? Perhaps, Dear Herb you have a slight problem with your hearing or - god forbid - your radio equipment (any faults were ALWAYS the other persons radio, not his). Anyhow, when it all works it is an incredible service and cruisers are lucky to have him. Herb is a knob-fiddler. A HAM radio fanatic, a former sailor, and certainly a weather guru. He lives in Nova Scotia and provides an invaluable amount of experience and expertise to cruisers sailing across the Atlantic every season (and probably the rest of the year also, if you are strange enough to be sailing the Atlantic then). He spends an hour (and lord knows how much time apart from that) or so every day giving individual forecasts and route suggestions over the HF radio to those at sea. And he does it for FREE. It really is an incredible service and comforting to use in conjunction with all our other weather information. Naturally though, you do start to form a picture in your mind of someones persona, I picture him in a heavy cable knit jumper with cord pants on and a little captains hat. Plus, I think he sounds a little like Elma Fudd "oh bowy, we have a pwobwem". We've been in stitches and much more relaxed as we just listen in now while we eat our dinner.
10 days in: we are only 317 nm to the town of Horta, on the Azores island of Fiahl. It has STILL been a pleasant trip, with great wind speeds and directions, pretty tame weather and flat seas, so not even any waves over the decks. My only real complaint I have is that I have started to layer on the top and bottom thermals under my trackies, under my oilskins….so it's cold and getting colder. I by no means have all my layers out. Oh and we have had pretty thick fog making watching for ships a little more thrilling and eerie than normal.
My theory, by the way, is that in having an extra set of hands around in case of trouble, we are not going to need it. Sort of like, using reverse psychology on the weather. So far it has worked, but we still have about 1000nm too go.
The watches we are keeping on this passage are so great that we've been threatening to kidnap Eoin and take him all the way back to Ireland, just so we can continue getting a decent amount of sleep every day. We have 2 hours on then 4 hours off each through the night. Then Eoin and Ian share the watches during the day and I cook. It's all so much more relaxing than when it's just the two of us, but still it's incredible how fast you can pass the time each day. By far one of the most entertaining (and certainly frustrating) time of the day is what we call 'Herb Hour', initially muttered in very hushed and respectful tones. However now, after being 'blanked' over the radio and chastised for pronouncing our own boat name incorrectly we have renamed him The Herbinator. This incident is quite comical now, I mean, do you think we'd know how to pronounce our own boat name after 5 years??? Perhaps, Dear Herb you have a slight problem with your hearing or - god forbid - your radio equipment (any faults were ALWAYS the other persons radio, not his). Anyhow, when it all works it is an incredible service and cruisers are lucky to have him. Herb is a knob-fiddler. A HAM radio fanatic, a former sailor, and certainly a weather guru. He lives in Nova Scotia and provides an invaluable amount of experience and expertise to cruisers sailing across the Atlantic every season (and probably the rest of the year also, if you are strange enough to be sailing the Atlantic then). He spends an hour (and lord knows how much time apart from that) or so every day giving individual forecasts and route suggestions over the HF radio to those at sea. And he does it for FREE. It really is an incredible service and comforting to use in conjunction with all our other weather information. Naturally though, you do start to form a picture in your mind of someones persona, I picture him in a heavy cable knit jumper with cord pants on and a little captains hat. Plus, I think he sounds a little like Elma Fudd "oh bowy, we have a pwobwem". We've been in stitches and much more relaxed as we just listen in now while we eat our dinner.
10 days in: we are only 317 nm to the town of Horta, on the Azores island of Fiahl. It has STILL been a pleasant trip, with great wind speeds and directions, pretty tame weather and flat seas, so not even any waves over the decks. My only real complaint I have is that I have started to layer on the top and bottom thermals under my trackies, under my oilskins….so it's cold and getting colder. I by no means have all my layers out. Oh and we have had pretty thick fog making watching for ships a little more thrilling and eerie than normal.
Drrrrrrrum roll please…… folks, please put your hands together for out FIRST EVER guest writer….Mr Eoin Henessey!!!!!!
The Crew
I've been following this blog for over 2 years now so it's an honour (and a little surreal) to be writing a guest post. For those who don't know me, I'm Eoin and I grew up in Crosshaven where Ian and I were paid to bounce small boats off bigger boats by the RCYC. Thanks Hugh! Joining Kadoona had been on my mind since back in 2009 when Laani and Ian started planning this incredible adventure. Sailing across the Atlantic is something I've wanted to do for a long, long time, so I had my eye on the Caribbean-Europe passage in particular. Somehow the stars aligned towards the beginning of this year and I was able to start organising a few weeks off. In March Ian decided that the transatlantic would start in Bermuda in late May or early June so I started looking at flights. The first thing I learned is that it's near impossible to estimate how long a passage over 1000 miles is going to take. Hurray for airlines with reasonable rescheduling policies!I landed in Bermuda on May 29th and made my way straight to St. George where Kadoona was at anchor. We spent the first day on Kadoona catching up and jumping into the crystal clear Bermudan waters. Heaven! Ian filled me in on the weather and the proposed route. We would be setting sail for the Azores in two days time on May 31st with an expected passage time of two to three weeks.
Bermuda, and in particular the small town of St. George is a picturesque, serene place. We spent our remaining time getting Kadoona ready, wandering around St. George and swimming in Tobacco Bay. On the morning of the 31st Ian and Laani had a few last minute provisions to pick up before leaving. I decided to climb the hill overlooking the harbour for one last view of the island. From the top I had a very clear view of Ian and Laani wrestling an overflowing shopping trolley through the streets of St. George to the pier. This was the third shopping trip they'd made and it began to sink in just how long we could be at sea! We set sail that afternoon and while motoring out of St. George, made bets on our arrival date in the Azores. Ian declared we'd arrive on June 15th, Laani June 19th and I figured it could take us until June 21st to get there. It wasn't long before Bermuda was out of sight and we were heading due East towards Europe with blue skies and a great breeze from the south.
That evening was my first time hearing Herb. Herb is a legendary HAM radio operator and weather-forecaster, based in Canada who has been guiding yachts across the Atlantic for nearly thirty years. Yachts check in daily at about 7pm EST with their position and Herb responds with a forecast and his opinion on how they should proceed. He has helped a lot of boats avoid dangerous weather over the years. With poor signal strength and a lot of bad radio operators out there, the check in process doesn't always go smoothly, often leading to hilarity. The Herb show quickly became our evening entertainment. We had our own issues getting forecasts from Herb, but that's another story!
I really thought it would take quite a while to get comfortable with being at sea and familiar with Kadoona. This was not the case. They both have so much experience at sea that they approach every situation with a calmness and ease that's infectious. I settled into my watch schedule within a day or two. Kadoona really is their home, and they are incredible hosts.Our daily schedule emerged pretty quickly. My last night watch ended at 7.30am so I'd usually sleep until about 11am. If the sun was shining then dumping two or three buckets of cold Atlantic water over your head after breakfast is a good way to start the day. Around midday Ian would update our charted position so that we could watch Kadoona eek across the chart towards the Azores. Early on, Ian demanded that I play Cribbage, a strange game involving a deck of cards, a board full of holes and four pegs. I'm still not convinced he wasn't making up the rules as we went, which would explain why he always won, but regardless, we played daily. Other daily activities involved fishing, repairs, cleaning and dolphin watching. My afternoon watch began at 2.30pm. Watches mostly consist of keeping the self steering system (Seamus) on course, making sure the sails are trimmed and keeping an eye out for ships. Surprisingly, this is enough to keep you quite busy. Each evening at about 7, Laani would produce the most amazing meals. I'm still not quite sure how she does it in that "modest" galley, but she has cooking on Kadoona down to an art form. During dinner we'd listen to the Herb show and afterwards watch the sun set. The perfect day.
During our time at sea we had all sorts of weather. Sun, rain, fog, light winds and heavy winds, but one thing that stayed almost constant was the wind direction which was mostly between west and south-west. Perfect conditions for a west to east passage. All in all we couldn't have wished for better weather. Thanks to Ian's masterful navigation and forecasting we avoided heavy weather to the north and light winds to the south. Every evening during the Herb show we'd hear from boats getting battered by winds or becalmed, while Kadoona kept on punching east.
We spotted Faial, the western-most island of the Azores in the afternoon of June 14th after two weeks at sea. Yes, Ian won the bet. In hindsight, betting with the navigator should have seemed like a terrible idea! We sailed into Horta, the largest harbour on the island at about 7pm local time. We had cleared customs and were berthed against the fishing pier within an hour. I had heard a few people describe the feeling of completing a long passage over the years and their descriptions finally made sense. It's a strange combination of excitement at having arrived, sadness at having to stop sailing, disorientation caused by the sudden stop in motion and exhaustion. Add a few beers to that and it's a pretty unique feeling!
I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to join Laani and Ian for a small part of their incredible adventure. It was an amazing experience. Don't forget to join the welcoming party on July 21st!
Bermuda, and in particular the small town of St. George is a picturesque, serene place. We spent our remaining time getting Kadoona ready, wandering around St. George and swimming in Tobacco Bay. On the morning of the 31st Ian and Laani had a few last minute provisions to pick up before leaving. I decided to climb the hill overlooking the harbour for one last view of the island. From the top I had a very clear view of Ian and Laani wrestling an overflowing shopping trolley through the streets of St. George to the pier. This was the third shopping trip they'd made and it began to sink in just how long we could be at sea! We set sail that afternoon and while motoring out of St. George, made bets on our arrival date in the Azores. Ian declared we'd arrive on June 15th, Laani June 19th and I figured it could take us until June 21st to get there. It wasn't long before Bermuda was out of sight and we were heading due East towards Europe with blue skies and a great breeze from the south.
That evening was my first time hearing Herb. Herb is a legendary HAM radio operator and weather-forecaster, based in Canada who has been guiding yachts across the Atlantic for nearly thirty years. Yachts check in daily at about 7pm EST with their position and Herb responds with a forecast and his opinion on how they should proceed. He has helped a lot of boats avoid dangerous weather over the years. With poor signal strength and a lot of bad radio operators out there, the check in process doesn't always go smoothly, often leading to hilarity. The Herb show quickly became our evening entertainment. We had our own issues getting forecasts from Herb, but that's another story!
I really thought it would take quite a while to get comfortable with being at sea and familiar with Kadoona. This was not the case. They both have so much experience at sea that they approach every situation with a calmness and ease that's infectious. I settled into my watch schedule within a day or two. Kadoona really is their home, and they are incredible hosts.Our daily schedule emerged pretty quickly. My last night watch ended at 7.30am so I'd usually sleep until about 11am. If the sun was shining then dumping two or three buckets of cold Atlantic water over your head after breakfast is a good way to start the day. Around midday Ian would update our charted position so that we could watch Kadoona eek across the chart towards the Azores. Early on, Ian demanded that I play Cribbage, a strange game involving a deck of cards, a board full of holes and four pegs. I'm still not convinced he wasn't making up the rules as we went, which would explain why he always won, but regardless, we played daily. Other daily activities involved fishing, repairs, cleaning and dolphin watching. My afternoon watch began at 2.30pm. Watches mostly consist of keeping the self steering system (Seamus) on course, making sure the sails are trimmed and keeping an eye out for ships. Surprisingly, this is enough to keep you quite busy. Each evening at about 7, Laani would produce the most amazing meals. I'm still not quite sure how she does it in that "modest" galley, but she has cooking on Kadoona down to an art form. During dinner we'd listen to the Herb show and afterwards watch the sun set. The perfect day.
During our time at sea we had all sorts of weather. Sun, rain, fog, light winds and heavy winds, but one thing that stayed almost constant was the wind direction which was mostly between west and south-west. Perfect conditions for a west to east passage. All in all we couldn't have wished for better weather. Thanks to Ian's masterful navigation and forecasting we avoided heavy weather to the north and light winds to the south. Every evening during the Herb show we'd hear from boats getting battered by winds or becalmed, while Kadoona kept on punching east.
We spotted Faial, the western-most island of the Azores in the afternoon of June 14th after two weeks at sea. Yes, Ian won the bet. In hindsight, betting with the navigator should have seemed like a terrible idea! We sailed into Horta, the largest harbour on the island at about 7pm local time. We had cleared customs and were berthed against the fishing pier within an hour. I had heard a few people describe the feeling of completing a long passage over the years and their descriptions finally made sense. It's a strange combination of excitement at having arrived, sadness at having to stop sailing, disorientation caused by the sudden stop in motion and exhaustion. Add a few beers to that and it's a pretty unique feeling!
I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to join Laani and Ian for a small part of their incredible adventure. It was an amazing experience. Don't forget to join the welcoming party on July 21st!
Hef's (Ian's) unofficial update.
Hello blog, yes its been a while but hey its not like I haven't been busy. Boat doesn't sail its self you know, well ok it does actually once its all set up but thats another story, suffice to say that Sheamus the self steering is awesome, (when in the mood). So whats been going on? Well the blog is looking pretty amazing, wish I could say the same for the boat but the past 16,000 odd miles, yes there are 3 zeros in there, have left her in need of a bit of TLC. Nothing that a few licks of paint won't fix however due to a combination of circumstances including laziness, rain, a new Kindle, squeezing the last out of the holidays, good pubs and wondering what to do next, well the jobs are mostly being put on the back-burner along with the excuse 'ah sure there will be plenty of time for that when we get home'.
Contrary to popular belief I did actually make an attempt to write several pieces for the blog but little jobs and toolboxing on the boat always seemed to get in the way. Inevitably by the time I'd get around to writing anything, Laani would have completed and posted a full update and it seemed kind of pointless posting a re-hash of something she had already spent many hours writing. As much as I'm sure you all love this blog I doubt anybody wants to read my almost identical account of the same thing all over again. Anyway, if I tell you all my stories here I'll have nothing to keep you all entertained in the pub.
So to cut a long story short; we sailed across the Pacific, cruised around Panama for a while, struggled East across the Caribbean sea to enjoy island life for a season before pointing the bow North and beginning the voyage home. For a more detailed account see the brilliant, numerous previous posts that Laani has spent many hours preparing. I managed to indulge in a bit of surfing in French Polynesia, Easter Island and Panama, a bit of guitar playing with Terry (ya mon) throughout the Caribbean, catch up on a bit of racing in New Zealand and Antigua, then be reminded by Eoin on the trip from Bermuda to the Azores that I still can't play chess. We met some fantastic people and were lucky enough to have a few family and friends visit us along the way. All in all it's been a pretty good year and a half, we always look back on these things fondly. I'm not sure I was was seeing the good side of it while peering into the two huge pieces cut out of the hull at the yard in French Polynesia or while trying to struggle against 30 knots of wind and an adverse current off the corner of Columbia but hey we made it and we are now in the Azores with just one last leg left. I'll leave the details to Laani, she is better at it than I am. I suppose the real question is if I had the chance would I do it all again? Without hesitation, I'd be off in the morning, although I should probably do that painting first...........
And now? The end of a dream, what do you do when you wake up?
Catch you all on the flip side.
Hef.
Contrary to popular belief I did actually make an attempt to write several pieces for the blog but little jobs and toolboxing on the boat always seemed to get in the way. Inevitably by the time I'd get around to writing anything, Laani would have completed and posted a full update and it seemed kind of pointless posting a re-hash of something she had already spent many hours writing. As much as I'm sure you all love this blog I doubt anybody wants to read my almost identical account of the same thing all over again. Anyway, if I tell you all my stories here I'll have nothing to keep you all entertained in the pub.
So to cut a long story short; we sailed across the Pacific, cruised around Panama for a while, struggled East across the Caribbean sea to enjoy island life for a season before pointing the bow North and beginning the voyage home. For a more detailed account see the brilliant, numerous previous posts that Laani has spent many hours preparing. I managed to indulge in a bit of surfing in French Polynesia, Easter Island and Panama, a bit of guitar playing with Terry (ya mon) throughout the Caribbean, catch up on a bit of racing in New Zealand and Antigua, then be reminded by Eoin on the trip from Bermuda to the Azores that I still can't play chess. We met some fantastic people and were lucky enough to have a few family and friends visit us along the way. All in all it's been a pretty good year and a half, we always look back on these things fondly. I'm not sure I was was seeing the good side of it while peering into the two huge pieces cut out of the hull at the yard in French Polynesia or while trying to struggle against 30 knots of wind and an adverse current off the corner of Columbia but hey we made it and we are now in the Azores with just one last leg left. I'll leave the details to Laani, she is better at it than I am. I suppose the real question is if I had the chance would I do it all again? Without hesitation, I'd be off in the morning, although I should probably do that painting first...........
And now? The end of a dream, what do you do when you wake up?
Catch you all on the flip side.
Hef.
....meanwhile, back to our arrival in The Azores....
rather big smiles on our faces...
Our feelings of elation on our arrival into port were not lessened by the fact we'd such an easy trip and our arrival was celebrated with a great deal of drink (our traditional extra strong g&t arrival drinks, followed by a smorgasboard of bubbles, beer, wine and finally rum) and only two thirds of us managed to find our way to our beds. A great deal of back slapping went on about how incredible we were to sail the entire way (2000 odd nm) within 2 weeks, on a passage that is notorious for the need to motor through calms. Congratulations to the tactician (aka Ian) for keeping us away from the calms and the storms - you rock! As our guest writer mentioned in his blurb, we made it just before the officials knocked off and were soon tied up on the outside of 3 other yachts ('rafting up' is what it's called in yachtie terms) and were ready to really relax in style. We were welcomed by our friends from Pylades (it's always comforting to arrive somewhere new, but to familiar faces) but spent the evening in our own little hazy cocoon on board Kadoona, not quite ready to be back in the 'real world'.
Horta, Faial
The marina in Horta is apparently the second busiest in the world but is very famous for the pictures painted on the concrete slabs of it's pier. They consume every available bit of floor and wall space and have been painted by visiting yachts and their crew for decades. Some are painstakingly detailed, some are colourful, others have witty sayings or lists of crew. Every one has the boat name though and it is something of a bad omen if you visit Horta and don't make the effort to 'let the gods' know you were here. Think of it as a pre-emptive sacrifice to King Neptune, before embarking on your next passage. Some of these artists leave their little pots of paint behind for the next sailor and we were lucky enough to find a pile of them on that first night, inspirational indeed. Ian spent and entire day (in between showers) painting our design on our chosen slab and did a fantastic job. The only bit I couldn't allow him to do (and he didn't want to!) was the Aussie flag.
our fave little cafe - the International
I don't recall ever seeing such beautiful little winding streets as those in Horta. So much thought has gone into the narrow cobblestoned footpaths which line the cobblestoned roads. No two patterns of black and cream rocks are the same on any street and their seems to be many men employed to maintain them. There are beautiful little parks with big old trees, pairs of lover swans in the ponds, tiny houses for birds and flowers everywhere. The front doors of the little houses which line the streets seem to reveal something about those within - some brightly painted or tiled, or may have some quirky little knocker. The church bells ring every hour. I could go on forever. Again, like Bermuda, none of us had any expectations and were completely blown away.
Pico's volcano in the background
The island itself is equally impressive, rising a high 1040m out of the sea, this volcanic land is incredibly green, fertile and it strikes me as having a climate like Pitcairn Island as everything seems to grow here. Next to crops of banana trees (tropical) are enormous hedges of hydrangea and wild roses. Lush little green ferns grow alongside fleshy pig face (a succulent that grows on the beaches of Geraldton). The small fields often have quite a slope and are divided and sheltered from erosion by fences made of planted bamboo or towering hydrangea hedges. The vegetables grown here seem to be on steroids, with cabbages the size of basketballs and tomatoes almost the size of grapefruit. We saw farmers tending their fields with traditional tools (no machinery) which looked like backbreaking work. The day we hired a car with Fergus and Kay (Pylades) and had the luxury of winding our way around and back, up and down, in and out of the little roads around the island was the main highlight and we had PERFECT weather. Either side of our chosen day was consistently crap weather (windy, raining, grey and miserable), for days on end. But that particular day the sun shone all day and we had spectacular views of the towering volcano on the island across from us, called Pico which is usually covered by fog. We visited a fantastic lighthouse that used to be on the edge of a cliff, but with several eruptions of a new volcano is now quite a way inland. The lower floor of the lighthouse building is still covered from the eruptions and has been turned into a fantastic museum. The trip up to the very top of the old volcano was absolutely freezing but well worth it for the breathtaking views into the crater and across at the surrounding islands. Everywhere you looked there were cows (the Azores are known for their cheese) and field after field of green…it reminded us of Ireland!
Velas, Sao Jorge
mmmmmmmmmmm
After nearly two weeks in Horta we got our second sunny day - the perfect day for 20nm sail to the island of Sao Jorge - famous for it's very tasty cheese. A lovely sail, a lovely tiny marina, but boy what a tight fit. I may not have mentioned before but most of the islands in the Azores there are NO anchorages, so you have no choice but to pay for a marina. Sometimes, like Horta, you are rafted up (in Horta we were unlucky enough to have a couple mean old trolls on the inside boat, making me rather nervous every time I had to lightly scramble over their deck), sometimes you get your own berth. Unfortunately Kadoona is built for going across big wide oceans, not for going astern and sharp turns, but the skilled captain got us in, in spite of my lack of confidence. Velas is a small and lovely old village built on the small flat ground at the bottom of some majorly big hills, cliffs and mountains. It was a short stay and would have loved longer - but time is running out! We had great internet access on board (a rare occurrence) so started in on the realities we've been able to avoid for the last 18 months (vague google searches for employment, dealing with banks, taxes and various government agencies - BLUHHHH!). My favourite big walk since Dominica had us climbing steadily up up up for an hour and a half through winding streets and tiny villages to the cheese factory. Mmmmmm mmmmmm. The factory itself wasn't too thrilling (they weren't doing tours) but we were able to sample a few cheeses (and after that big walk we felt okay about going back for second, third and fourth servings) and buy a couple of locally made and extremely tasty kilos of cheese. Add to that a few bottles of Azorean wine and it was probably not the well thought out 'shopping' venture. Thankfully it was mostly down hill. The ultra scenic walk back took us on back roads through pine forests, farm blocks fenced with blue and lilac hydrangea as far as the eye could see, sweet little churches with veggie gardens out the front and past fields thick with bright yellow daisies with cows feeding their little calves. The sun was out again and it was, quite simply, glorious.
Angra, Ihla Terceira
We had an early start and a long days sail across to Ihla Terceira - out final stop before Ireland! We had our hopes up for some whales but I went back to bed after a few hours, quite satisfied by the dolphins we'd seen. Ian sailed us over the whole way with me chilling out down below reading and catching up on some much needed sleep. Another very tight parking spot but hey, happy to be here. We caught the last couple of days of a massive 10 day long festival here in Angra do Heroismo, a UNESCO World Heritage town. The whole cobblestoned city is decked out in lights, flowers and streamers. All the shop windows have incredible displays with a carnival/ religious feel (something to do with a religious feast?). If the last island was known for it's cheese, this island is known as the party island. The festival has given us a fantastic (and all free) look at marching bands, traditional music and dancing, a cheesy but very good 80's rock cover band and a general happy and busy vibe. Guns being fired into the air to signify the beginning or the end of a bull run, the start of a party, or for all we know someone getting out of bed. Their frequency does not make me jump any less. The most adventurous event we attended was the 'bull teasing', which is very different and far less cruel than bull fighting. Apparently, years ago, when the Spaniards tried to invade the island, the farmers released their bulls and in turn drove the would-be-conquerors away. It is a very important part of the calendar year, with whole family turning out to watch. Albeit, the women and children are generally kept behind huge wooden barriers, while the men and the more adventurous (us tourists) stand on the streets and watch, ready to run if it comes down our street!. The locals were really lovely, friendly and full of warnings. But the warnings were of the danger of the crowds, not the bulls! So, every day for a couple of months farmers take there massive prize bulls around to different villages on Terceira to compete with other bulls (4 in total, each goes out one at a time) for who is the most 'fun & fierce'. They do not poke them and prod them, but they are 'teased' by waving shirts or umbrellas in their faces and running away. Some of these guys live for the thrill, but we reckon are fairly mad - who would tease a beast this size?? The bulls are kept on a rope with 5 line handlers to reign them in if absolutely necessary. Still the crowd surges are pretty violent too! The last bull we saw definitely would have preferred to be out mating in the fields, he was pretty unhappy. he was also the one the at came the closest to us - ever tried to run from a bull, in a crowd, with a full glass of red wine?…..I didn't spill a drop (are you proud of me mum?).
Once again, we are back to the subject of Forts…what is it with this side of the world and forts? Yaaaaawn…..we've seen SO many now. The fort in Angra is still used by the military (so off limits in some parts) and is below the beautiful Mount Brasil. This area has been made into a national park filled with trails, vistas and wildlife…although the 'wildlife' is sometimes interspersed by groups of men running around with rifles so your tranquility is occasionally left wanting. The tiny steep laneways of the city itself can barely fit a car through them but are great for exploring since I think you could walk for hours every day and still never punt the pavement in the same street twice. All in all, another magical island to visit, with our expectations again blown out of the water.
So, the time has come. I sit in our homely little saloon, with a lovely chilled glass of vinho verde and ponder what has been and what is yet to come….that's when the tear drops begin to fall. Where did all the time go? How is it possible that we are on the brink of our amazing journey ending, while a whole new one is just about to begin? Is it really that time ALREADY??? I'm not sure I'm ready for it. We're not sure WE are ready for it. Nevertheless, we have one final passage ahead of us, more time to enjoy and psych ourselves up for the joys and challenges ahead.
It really has been one incredible journey……even if it was the WRONG WAY AROUND……
Once again, we are back to the subject of Forts…what is it with this side of the world and forts? Yaaaaawn…..we've seen SO many now. The fort in Angra is still used by the military (so off limits in some parts) and is below the beautiful Mount Brasil. This area has been made into a national park filled with trails, vistas and wildlife…although the 'wildlife' is sometimes interspersed by groups of men running around with rifles so your tranquility is occasionally left wanting. The tiny steep laneways of the city itself can barely fit a car through them but are great for exploring since I think you could walk for hours every day and still never punt the pavement in the same street twice. All in all, another magical island to visit, with our expectations again blown out of the water.
So, the time has come. I sit in our homely little saloon, with a lovely chilled glass of vinho verde and ponder what has been and what is yet to come….that's when the tear drops begin to fall. Where did all the time go? How is it possible that we are on the brink of our amazing journey ending, while a whole new one is just about to begin? Is it really that time ALREADY??? I'm not sure I'm ready for it. We're not sure WE are ready for it. Nevertheless, we have one final passage ahead of us, more time to enjoy and psych ourselves up for the joys and challenges ahead.
It really has been one incredible journey……even if it was the WRONG WAY AROUND……