Island of Flowers

Saturday 20th August 2011

Lagoa Funda - a very old volcano crater

We had heard much of the romantic beauty of Flores. Discovered in 1452 by Portuguese, it became a settlement of sorts for miners intent on finding rich mineral resources. This endeavour was soon abandoned until a more successful resettlement in 1504. Flores’ heyday was no doubt its incarnation as a notorious lair (1580’s) for pirates seeking riches of another kind – Spanish galleons returning to Europe laden with gold and spices. Alfred Lord Tennyson immortalised a naval battle between the English and Spanish fleets in The Revenge, an epic poem about this 1591 encounter fought just off the Flores coast.

Fading Beauties - Sadly we were too late for the best of the blue hydrangeas

The island rests more peacefully now and its 3900 inhabitants enjoy a quiet, rural existence among an abundance of flowers and sweeping green fields.  Flores is a climatic, natural greenhouse, enabled by warm Gulf Stream waters.

We had booked a 3 to 4 hour drive with Cesar, an English & French speaking taxi driver.  He took us from Lajes to see tranquil twin lakes (Funda & Rasa) before heading clockwise around the island.  From a viewpoint high on the western cliffs, we admired the small village of Lajedo, now somewhat of a ghost town, with many of the cottages empty.  “Young people go to Lisbon for university and after, a rural existence in Flores holds little for them”, said Cesar, sadly.  “Our population is not growing.”

Rocha dos Bordoes

We moved on to take in the dramatic spectacle of Rocha dos Bordoes (organ pipes) before driving through quaint Mostiero and its terraces held back by hand-built dry stone walls, threaded with ribbons of hydrangea hedges (locally known a hortensia), once brilliant blue, now turning gray with summer’s passing.  Cesar stops at the Miradouro do Portal so that we can take in the sweep of Fajazinah and Faja Grande noting that BW would have been disappointed with current surfing conditions.  Faja Grande has become the “it” village for both locals (to own a holiday cottage) and tourists who come to hike through this scenic island.  “Lots of Germans like to see the island and camp out here. We don’t have many for the surf.” said Cesar.

Corvo in the distance

We took the steep route out admiring many waterfalls and cascades, stopping once to look down on a spectacular view west.  The nearest shores are the US, and don’t we know it!  We couldn’t pass up a glance into Lagoa Negra (now green with algae) and the bottomless Lagoa Comprida (now black).  Further on, as we crossed an impressive roadway that separates Morro Alto, Flores’ highest peak at 914m, and Pico dos Sete Pes, an equally impressive height, we noted two, now dry calderia, before driving through a pristine forest carpeted with hardy, twisted miniature trees. 

From a vantage point high above Porto Delgarda we could just make out the island of Corvo to the north with its thick rain cloud cap, before stopping to inspect peat moss growing on the steep slopes of surrounding hills.  Cesar told us that in winter, it was impossible to graze cows on these steep, high pastures.  They just fall and roll down the slopes; sadly, not always with a good ending, despite all that soft peat moss.

A Day at the Beach in Santa Cruz

Santa Cruz is the capital of Flores with a population of 1100 or so.  We checked out the new airport (& bathroom facilities) before taking a walking tour around town.  The Piscina Natural is a series of rock pools used as a local “swimming pool”.  We laughed to think that large slabs of concrete had become their beach.  The nearby Porto das Pocas is similarly used now that Lajes has become the premier island port.  We admired the magnificent Igreja Matriz Nossa Senhora da Conceicao, currently being restored and nearby monastery, now museum. (Of course it was closed – it was Saturday!).

Saturday arvo at the Local. The Captain's shoes are falling apart too...

We waited for Cesar (delivering relatives home after arriving at the airport) at the town square and had a beer or two from the local taverna.  All this sitting, reflecting, gossiping and drinking local beer made us quite relaxed – and besides it was nearly dinner time so we had Cesar drop us off at the Café Beira Mar for the day’s offering – pizza again.  Oh well, we had to walk home to WJ3, snug in her port dock, so who’s counting calories!