Sao Vicente

I was keeping on with a Portugese, Atlantic-island hopping trip when I decided to go straight to Madeira. The airport connection was seamless, as if I was going to another Azorean island, and being further south, it was warmer and sunnier.

on the top of Madeira

Hiking in Madeira is supposed to be amazing, but the size and steepness of those mountains was a bit daunting. Driving up to the Pico do Arieiro was painless and fast, and getting above the clouds still offered views to the sea.

wine tasting at H.M. Borges

Chef Thrainn met me there, with the intention of learning (and drinking) as much of Madiera wine as we could in 5 days. We drove thru dozens of vineyards on our roadtrip around the island, but only Funchal had actual bottlers and tasting rooms we could seek out.

Funchal tourism has a lot to thank Ronaldo

Our road trip started at Madeira airport, where we drove north to Sao Vicente. We stopped when we felt like, eating lunch at Seixal, and got lucky with a cheap room at Porto Moniz. Our seaside room balcony was above the natural pools, where they’ve concreted in the gaps between the jagged sea cliffs and made sea water pools.

Porto Moniz

We drove west and south, stopping at the not-so-impressive mand-made-beach of Calheta. Funchal was a food and wine highlight, eating at the Michelin recommended Boho Bistro and 1 star Williams restaurant. We learned about Madeira wine making at H.M.Borges, and tasting some excellent examples at Blandy’s wine lodge.

the cable car of Santana going down to Rocha do Novio

Our last day was set aside to drive to the northeast of the island, visiting Faial and the Santana houses. The cable car down to Rocha do Navio was being repaired, so we simply looked down on it, wondering how it is to live there. We drove to the east extreme of Sao Lourenco before calling it a night at Machico. We got the music room at Modern and Recycled guesthouse and had melon proschuitto and seafood on the black sand beach, paired with a perfect rosé, so we felt content to wake up the next morning at 5:30 am to head back home.

sunset on Sao Vicente

It was a kind of deja-vu, leaving Senegal for Cape Verde, since last year for Christmas I had moved from the non-festive towns of Morocco for Portugal. This year, I celebrated Christmas in the portugese-speaking islands of Cabo Verde, leaving the islamic chaos of Dakar on a too-cheap-to-miss flight.

the sleepy, volcanic town of Calhau

We started in Sao Vicente, where the cultural capital city of Cape Verde, Mindelo, was the perfect place to take in the holiday festivities. People flooded the streets, and even the nights were warm enough to wear pink and white dresses to mingle in the central square, eat out, and evesdrop on a live concert happening at the Porto Grande hotel.

the deserted streets of Calhau

On Christmas eve, we explored the other side of Sao Vicente, where the supposedly excellent beach town of Calhau was more like an empty ghost town. In our 3 hours there, we only saw 3 cars pass, 2 of which were buses, and 5 other people: a lady on her balcony, a couple men with a young girl in their holiday home, and 2 tourists that were also searching for some charm in the town. Nothing was open, not even the windows on the blocked up houses, no cars in the driveway, or signs of life in the streets. We finally ran into 2 men on the road out of town, casually drinking beers as they strolled, who pointed us into the direction of a hotel that may be open. It turned out to be an oasis of life, with atleast 5 other people sitting around the french-owned courtyard and tapping onto the free wifi.

Christmas day gift exchange

christmas day greetings from Santa Clause’s mom

We hitchhiked out of the town, and made a lot of village stops on the way, since we had accidentally been picked up by the local Santa clause delivering presents to the neighbours. He was paid in beers and we paid him in chocolate, and we drove past his mother for the saddest wave hello.

the hilltop villages of Ribeira Grande, Santo Antao

the colonial town of Ribeira Grande

We took a ferry from Sao Vicento to Santo Antao, which was such an unbelievably beautiful island I dont think its even worth trying to describe. They say pictures paint a thousand words, but no picture can really do justice for this island, or any of the Cape Verde islands for that matter. They were all very different, with a different atmosphere and dramatically different environments. Santo Antao was the most impressive because of the huge, steep, green moutains that we had to weave through, and the road always seemed to be laid on the peaks of each montain, so we floated around in the clouds looking down at these little sea-side, cliff-hanging villages like ant-towns, and wondered how the road ever got us up so high or how it would ever lead us back down alive.

Roadtrip Santiago, from Tarrafal to Praia

The last island we visited was Santiago, home of the country’s capital and international airport. We were warned that Praia was boring and dangerous, but, quite frankly I liked it. We stumbled upon some art cafe that I cant remember the name of, but the owner was the wife of the late Vadú, a famous Cape Verdean singer, who died in a car accident in Santo Antao. She was the first and only local to speak highly of Cape Verde, but we had already made plans to continue north to Tarrafal. Its a small, cobble-stoned street with a perfectly placed central square, a small beach with everything you need on it, and I made some very good new friends there. On the beach I met 2 boys with their 2 dogs, and one dog liked me slightly more than anyone else, and I showed a little favouritism to the 13 year old boy who inherited my Freewaters sandals. At the square later that night, I befriended a sobbing 9 year old girl, who´s world turned right side up after we bought her a coke, gave her my hair elastic, and let her braid 4 plaits in my hair. I hope she never cries again.