Maia

Gordon: “Just keep looking at my butt. No, not over there. Focus on the butt.”

Today we visited the town of Maia, which we have been eagerly anticipating for some time. It was a slow motion triathlon: 25 kms of cycling, 10 kms of walking, and a few hundred metres of swimming (in a pool exposed to the sea).

Maia is a small town stretching along the sea at the southeast corner of the island. It is backed by cliffs rising more than 100 metres, with steeply terraced vineyards on the lower slopes. Although very picturesque, we found it to be almost empty. The keeper at the Ponta do Castelo lighthouse explained that most of the houses in Maia are owned by emigrants to the US, who return only for the summer. Consequently the town is almost dead during much of the year, the full time population insufficient to support even one of the two snack bars in town. Emigrants are a potent social and economic force throughout the Azores, with many festivals and monuments honouring them. Although we are not privy to the nuances, I’m sure their relationship with the current residents of the islands is complicated and multifaceted.

We went for a swim in the piscina natural in Maia, the first time we have been in the sea on Santa Maria. Unlike many of the islands, few of the towns on this island are located on the sea. This is probably due to both the elevated, rough coastline, as well as the historic security concerns arising from piracy.

The temperature of the sea has not changed noticeably, so we had our usual 10 minute swim. After drying in the sun, we started the return journey up the cliffs. The trail climbed steeply through the vineyards, and then alternately traversed below rock bands and climbed sharply on softer surfaces. We eventually found ourselves climbing beside the Cascata do Aveiro, at 110 metres the highest waterfall in Portugal (according to the signage). If you stretched your right arm out to the side, your fingers were over 100 metres of air. This is the point at which I had to tell Ruth to keep her eyes on me, and not look down. While a little unnerving, the views of the vineyards and the headlands were breathtaking.

After cycling back to Santa Barbara, it was a real pleasure to dine outside our little house on the hill. We were tired but very pleased with our day.