A few days in Santo Antao, Cape Verde

Do I stay or do I go? Do I spend more time in remote, rustic Tarrafal, being awakened by duelling roosters who are probably wandering the road, with the sound of the ocean just across the path? Tearing myself away from the sea is always hard. But there is Fogo also calling me, to visit Cha winery and the village inside the volcano. 

Cabo Verde (Cape Verde) is like this, a place of contrasts, particularly between the islands. When I came, all I knew of it was that it was the home of Cesaria Evora and that it was warm, with warm water.

On a recommendation from someone in Barcelona, I went to Sal for the swimming and the sea. From there, I went to Sao Vicente because people in Sal told me Mindelo had more culture. Also, it was the birthplace of Cesaria Evora. From there, I took a ferry to Santo Antao because everyone said it is special and “you can’t miss it.” 

And I have been 3 nights on Santo Antao, 2 of them in Paul, and so far one night here, with the possible plan to leave tomorrow.

Santo Antao is famous for hiking, with 73 hikes all over the island. I chose the Paul valley hike, that first went up, and up, and up, to Pico do San Antonio. There were a few downs, which I dreaded because they were dry and slippery, and it meant back up again. At one point, I even wondered if I could hire a donkey to finish – it was not an easy hike! Luckily for me, I met up with two Spanish women and we continued the next 3 plus hours of the hike together. To give an idea of how happy I was to share that hike, the difficulty of it is shown by the pace – 1 kilometre per hour! 

This is the agricultural area, where sugar cane, cabbages, yams, carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, avocadoes, guava, papaya, breadfruit, corn and probably more things are grown, in land that has been stolen from the mountain with terracing. I don’t even know what to call these planted areas, because some are as small as a kitchen table, and none are big enough to be called a field, at least in my mind. 

There was one huge boulder, with small footholds carved into the stone, and on its flat top was a patch of green and a small papaya tree! I don’t know what was planted because there was no way that I was going to risk those steps to check it out!

Back in town that evening, I went to Black Mamba for dinner, where again I was lucky enough to run into two Dutch women who I had met at the Napoletana pizzeria the night before. They had just finished dinner but stayed while I had mine, and we laughed a lot! The food was great – all fresh and looking at my plate, I saw my day: shredded cabbage with tomato salad, carrots and potatoes, and barracuda, fresh from the sea. 

Somewhat on a whim, I came to Tarrafal. I left Paul with an aluguer, the bus, with some hesitation as my suitcase went on the roof. In Porto Novo, I changed to another aluguer, which was a four-wheel-drive truck. Most of the day was on cobblestone highways. And then there were the last 30 minutes when the four-wheel vehicle made sense. Holy smokes, it was bumpy and slow, and my driver, Helio, was so good! I understood why it is recommended to not rent a car!

Having said that, I just spoke with 3 women from Galicia, who rented a car in Porto Novo to drive to Tarrafal to come to the beach for the day!

I have met many other adventurous people while I have been here, and even just on this island. For example, one of the Spanish women was afraid of heights, but still did that scary hike that we shared. (yes, it was kind of scary, which is why I was happy to not be alone. What can I say, people recommended it and no one said, but not alone!) And she and her friend had hiked a route on Fogo which apparently is even scarier. She’s scared, but she does it, knowingly, which I think is very brave

And where I am staying, at Mar Tranquilidade, the owners were very adventurous. A German-American couple arrived here by sailboat 20 years ago and decided this was their place. And over time, they created this unique, somewhat bohemian and very welcoming place that is a cross between a guest house and a lodge. 

So do I stay or do I go? Which voice is the loudest – the sea or Fogo?