São Jorge: The Fãja of the North Coast

Ruth: “I could live here” Gord proclaimed as we headed over the top of the island to the trailhead where Gord would start today’s hike. In all the places we have traveled to and loved, we have never really considered moving anywhere permanently. São Jorge has certainly come closest to wrenching me from home.

Today I felt up for a hike but not for the steep 10 km walk that Gord was doing. I agreed to meet him for the flatter end of his hike. My walk was the ten kms in and out between Fãja dos Cubres, the last road accessible town on the northeast coast, and Fãja de Caldeira de Santo Cristo. Both are pictured in the previous photo. The word “fajã” refers to flat areas by the sea that are formed from falling debris from an earthquake, or lava flows.

The twisting switchback road down to the first fajã made my ears pop. To access the second village you either walk or take a quad.

I joined three Portuguese women for my hike. You know you are on a small island when you realize you have taken a picture of one of the women in the Carnival parade two days earlier. While we were watching the parade I spoke to another woman who had heard her friend José was waiting to host two Canadian cyclists. It really is a small world. Rumour has it that cows outnumber the 10,000 islanders by a factor of two.