Jo’s Monday walk

And to conclude….

A lovely place to end!  We had the odd misgiving when we arrived in Vila Franca do Campo, but we were completely wrong.

Such a wonderful renovation, retaining character and atmosphere, and with smiling, helpful staff.  Convento de Sáo Francisco was a real find.

I even found a niche to watch the final of the French Open tennis at Roland Garros, while a certain other enjoyed one last lounge beside a hotel pool.  All’s well that ends well?  Rafa certainly thought so!  And as we sashayed out to our final evening meal, would you credit it but a band struck up in the distance?  Just one more procession, albeit a very low key affair, which rather suited our mood.

And the sun finally set on an epic Azores adventure.  I have so enjoyed sharing it with you.

So sorry to have confused everybody!  I intended to schedule Vila Franca do Campo, my Monday walk, for today, but I got over-excited and posted it late on Saturday.  My links to everyone’s walks are over there so please do check back for any you’ve missed.  I doubt I’ll post again before the weekend.  Have a great week!

 

Jo’s Monday walk : Vila Franca do Campo

So!  The dilemma!  Our last night, close to the airport for an early start, or a beguiling monastery, not too far away?  When we rang the bell pull at dusk, and the narrow grill rolled slowly back, we could have been forgiven for wondering if we’d made the right choice.  A small door in the hefty green one was swung creakily back to admit us.  Were we spending the night in a cell?

Vila Franca do Campo was full of surprises.  On our bed, at Convento de Sáo Francisco, a glossy magazine, open at a feature… are you familiar with Bom Jesus at Braga, on mainland Portugal?  The image was something similar, but on a smaller scale.  Definitely an expedition for the morning.

On a bright blue day, yet another amiable taxi driver arrived to wind us up, and up, and up the hillside to Senhora da Paz. (and he would collect us at six for the airport, the following morning, still smiling  🙂  )  Breakfast of island cheeses, boiled eggs, fresh pineapple and wonderful local bread and honey had set us up for the day.  Nothing to do but start at the top, and amble slowly, back down the hillside.

The views down upon Vila Franca do Campo, with its offshore islet, were simply beautiful, the subtle stripes of the ocean stretching to infinity.  The azulejo panels tell the story of Our Lady of Peace, whose image was discovered nearby, in a simple grotto.

Reluctantly I tore myself away to begin the descent.  Mingled with the ever present hydrangeas, starry bursts of delicate agapanthus.

Did you notice the islet, on the horizon?  I didn’t manage to get there in the short time we had, but the ferries leaving the marina seemed popular.  But I’m jumping ahead of myself.  We wound our way down a tree-lined avenue until we were back in the town.  The houses had interesting adornments to delay our progress, and one garden was full of ripening bananas.  Most noticeable, though, were the coloured hoops across the streets.  A festival of some kind was set to happen, connected to the Senhora, I could only surmise.

Eventually the twists and turns brought us to a central square, and thirst led us from there to the marina.  A hot and lively place from which to observe the business of boats.  Something I’m able to do for hours!

A seawall led out around the marina, protecting it from an ocean mild as milk on this particular day.  We stopped to watch some youngsters bringing home their tiny craft, the instructor bellowing at them intimidatingly.  I was glad that I was ashore.

So many fascinating jobs to be done.  But not everybody loves boats, and it was time to follow the shoreline and head back up to our monastery/hotel.  Evidence here that someone loves cars too!

Through a very attractive square, whose church door was temptingly open.  And past the prettiest bandstand ever!

I think this may be a good place to leave this walk, though I hear anguished cries of ‘what about the cake?’  You can have too much of a good thing?

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I’m still in the UK till late Wednesday.  So much has happened since we were in the Azores!  I’m in transit to Nottingham tomorrow, and as some of you may realise, I’ve just hit Publish rather than Preview!  So you have a Jo’s Monday walk on a Saturday.  Whatever next?  I hope you’ll excuse me.  There will be a brief follow up on Monday.

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Meanwhile, Cathy has been trekking, and trekking, on her spiritual journey :

(Camino day 27) San Nicolás del Real Camino to Bercianos del Real Camino

(Camino day 28) Bercianos del Real Camino to Reliegos & ruminations (week 4)

And Sandra has been enjoying the great outdoors :

Flowers, Berries and More

Naches Peak Loop/Tipsoo Lake, Mount Rainier National Park

I always enjoy a step back in time.  Thanks, Irene :

Sense of Nostalgia

Meet Elina from Finland!  She has some wonderful sights to show you :

Rainbow Mountain

And guess what?  Drake’s….

Back in town

And he has full permission to walk on a day that’s not Monday  🙂

Village with red touch

While Rupali, after a break, is…

Back on track

And Ulli takes us on a majestic tour of the Austrian Alps :

The route is the final destination in Austria

Funnily enough, Suzanne, the Travelbunny, just featured a spectacular walk in Austria that I’d love to do :

Tiefenbachklamm – Discovering Austria’s Wild Side

And Debbie takes us to ever more exotic and interesting places.  I can’t keep up!

Bender Fortress

I’m sure she’d enjoy some of the street art in Cheryl’s walk, too :

The Highest Café of Jaman Mural Village

Another newcomer to the walks- please give a warm welcome to Nandini :

A Walk on Golconda Fort

And in case you’ve forgotten Nadine, something that made me feel very restless :

15 Photos that will make you fall in love with the Camino del Norte

And I almost missed Margaret, but here she is!

Country Mouse visits the Big City

It’s great that you’ve all continued to walk with me.  Comments were closed for a while, but I guess I’m back in business now.  I’ve loved my family time in the UK but I think it will be good to be home again.

Capelas, Sáo Miguel- not quite a Monday walk

Sáo Miguel is quite a large island.  Needing a base from which to complete the walk around the rim of the volcano at Sete Cidades, I opted for the small village of Capelas, on the northwest coast.  Knowing nothing about it, once we’d checked into a lovely bungalow in the grounds of the Solar do Conde, it was time to explore.

A left turn took us towards the village, a walk of about 15 minutes.  A right turn led to a beautiful coastal path, according to our helpful hotel receptionist.  Village first, though the road was narrow and largely unpaved.

A sign suggested the name of Capelas comes from caves dug into the rocks by the often boisterous sea, the caves resembling chapels.  The art of the bandstand seems to be alive and well here in the Azores.  We saw some beauties.  The tile panels are equally beautiful throughout Portugal.

Certainly, the cliffs were high, and the sea a little boisterous.  Nor did the tiny port look an easy place to dock.  The square outside the church seemed a pleasant place to sit and watch village life, the locals lazing away a warm afternoon.  The church was still open so I popped inside.

We ambled back to the hotel, where a pool awaited.  Rather a nice one, too, but I couldn’t sit still for very long.  What about that right turn?  Leaving the other half to idle a while, I picked up the camera and sauntered off again.

Sure enough, the coastal path led far away into the distance.  I didn’t have much time before supper, but I can never resist the whoosh of waves.

As I approached the bathing area the clouds were beginning to gather again.  It seemed like a good time to turn for that evening’s ‘home’.

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Jo’s Monday walk is going to be missing for 3 weeks or more while I’m in the UK, so I’ve decided to include the walks I’ve already accumulated this week, here.  It’s hard to keep track of them otherwise.  Feel free to keep them coming.  I have one last lovely place in the Azores to share with you.  I’ll post it when I can, but have no idea when that might be.

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State of the art, and a few gymnastics with Janet, to get us started :

Monday walk… out and about in Sheridan

Not a walk so much as a ride with Sue, but you’ve gotta love her :

Azorean ruin

The irrepressible Jackie offers up…

Two Scoops

I mostly saw it in the rain, but Natalie had much better luck :

Day Trip to Salzburg, Austria

Boats, oysters, marshlands… Alice has it all!

Pin Point

Tiptoe through a chateau, with Drake?

Art in the countryside

A city gate, and a little history from Ulli :

A Promenade through old Beeskow, Germany

Terri admits she’s a little obsessed with fitness, but you have to admire her dedication :

No Excuses Fitness : Exercising with a Cast

How’s about this for a bridge, on many levels?  Thanks, Carol!

Over, Under and Back Again

Sweltering heat seems to have been universal lately.  Enjoy a cooling Algarve stroll with Becky :

Down by the river

Thanks for your company, and your patience.  Have a great Summer, or ‘roll on Spring!’ depending where you are in the world.  See you soon!

Jo’s Monday walk : Sete Cidades

I was going to save this walk till the end of my Azores saga, but it feels right to include it now.  You could say that the entire purpose of coming to these islands was to see the lakes at Sete Cidades with my own eyes.  Could they really be as beautiful as they appeared in the photographs?

They’re back on the main island, Sáo Miguel, a short flight from Faial.  Standing on the runway at Horta airport, looking across the water at Pico, I had to wonder if this second week was going to be an anticlimax.  I needn’t have worried.  Very little about the Azores disappoints.  A smiling taxi driver had whisked us from Ponta Delgada airport to our luxury hotel and thermal spa at Furnas (more about that later) and from there to the north west of the island.  The unfailing good humour and willingness to help of the taxi drivers never ceased to amaze.  En route, Maciel stopped to let us look at Lagoa do Fogo, whetting our appetite for the main event.

As so often, I got it right, but I got it wrong first!  The area is full of smaller lakes and, thinking to save our legs, the amiable driver paused briefly at Lagoa do Canario on the way up the mountain.  A quick, sunny look, and back in the car.  I had read that the viewing point Vista do Rei (King’s View) was a must see, and asked him to drop us off there.  It was growing increasingly cloudy and I was in dread of a repetition of our visit to the Caldeira on Faial, when we didn’t see a thing.  The clouds wafted around and I waited for that golden moment when the sun hits the water.  Almost in vain!  It was time to start walking, back in the direction we had come from.  Gradually the clouds melted, leaving us to hike a warm 3km along the switchback of a roadside.   The one saving grace was that it afforded us views we otherwise would have missed.

Sete Cidades from Vista do Rei

Mountain weather is predictably erratic and I had my fingers firmly crossed when we finally reached the beginning of the trail, PR4.  It makes an 11km circuit of the two main lakes, Lagoa Azul and Lagoa Verde, after a bit of a steep climb.  Understatement!

I hadn’t known that there was rather a delightful surprise waiting for us.  A wonderful old, moss-covered aqueduct, Muro das Nove Janelas.

I gawped at it from every angle, before beginning the upward slog, gentle at first but soon arriving at a semi-vertical, narrow paved section, which led up, and up!  A couple of farmers climbed effortlessly ahead of us, turning off the path part way to herd the cattle to different pastures.

What a reward for effort!  As we climbed higher more of the lakes became visible, despite the lurking clouds.  At the top we heaved a sigh of satisfaction.  There before us spread four of the lakes, including Lagoa do Canario, our starting point.

Now all we needed to do was follow the rim of the volcano.  The trail upped and downed a little, and at one point we simply sat on a rock and gazed.  I can’t be sure but there may even have been a chocolate biscuit involved.  The view was too stunning to care.

Looking back the cloud still lingered but, as we made our way around the rim, more and more of Lagoa Azul and Lagoa Verde were revealed.  The light danced across the water, tracing patterns and changing colours on a whim.  On the horizon, the wild Atlantic, becalmed.

Wild flowers created beautiful borders for me, until finally I found what I had been hoping for- a wonderful spread of hydrangeas.

Gradually we came back down.  I had run out of superlatives and my feet were weary.  It seemed to take an inordinate time to reach the lakeside- we’d been walking about 4 hours- and as we did the cloud rolled back in.

How did the area come to be called Sete Cidades or Seven Cities?  It’s a historical reference, explained fully in the link, with explanations of the volcanic activity which gave rise to the lakes.  For us the big question was how to get to our next destination.  The only taxi in the village was busy, but the lady in the TI assured us he would come in half an hour.  He was late, but smiling, and singing to himself as he drove us back down the mountain, into the sunshine.

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The year is flying by, and one of the reasons I’ve chosen this walk is that it’s likely to be my last for a few weeks.  Next Monday I will be in England with a lively 6 year old to entertain.  Great fun but not conducive to lengthy posts.  I’d like to finish my Azores series this week, but there still seems so much to show you.  I’ll be away for 3 weeks so Jo’s Monday walk will be temporarily suspended.  Please do enjoy the following :

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All this lies on Lynn’s doorstep.  And orchids too!  What a privilege :

Local Walks: Kukutali Preserve

Carol has been walking with difficulty lately, but she can still contribute a wonderful browse around a market :

Let’s Go Shopping!

Drake honours the departed, 75 years on :

Remembrance of partnership

The island of Maui, seen through Irene’s eyes :

Just a Glance

While Alice has found us the prettiest little lighthouse :

Rear Range Lighthouse 1879

Beautiful views, with Janet, whichever direction you look :

Monday walk… Look out!

Anne tells an interesting tale of quarries and disaster :

Coombe Down and the story of Bath Stone

While Candy is exploring the green spaces of Deptford :

Margaret McMillan Park in Deptford

And from one Margaret to another…  🙂

Tabariane: New Light on the Dark Ages revisited

Golden light streaming from this one of Cathy’s :

(Camino day 26) Calzadilla de la Cuenza to San Nicolás del Real Camino

I don’t know that this totally fits the bill, but I think Ann-Christine would agree that these are Dreamy landscapes.  Certainly I dreamed of seeing them for a long time.  And Cathy has an ongoing Photography Invitation you might like to join?  Have a great week!

Jo’s Monday walk : Porto Pim

I have just one more walk to share on Faial, before moving on to the island of Pico.  Porto Pim is a strip of sand and pellucid bay, tucked between Monte Queimado and Monte da Guia, to the west of the town of Horta, where we walked last week.  At least, it was, the day we took this stroll.  Pretty as it is, there’s a dark side to this story.  Take note of the factory on the far shore.

The beach is a conservation area, and is the first part of the island of Faial to have been settled, back in 1460.  The ruins of a fortress guard the entrance to the bay, and there was once a thriving port here.

Today all is peaceful, though we did note that a lone yachtsman, moored and enjoying the serenity, was asked to move on by the maritime police.  He wasn’t exactly disturbing the peace, and communications were friendly, but he very quickly upped anchor and away.

The shoreline is ragged with rocks and it’s easy to imagine volcanic activity here.  A straggle of houses line half of the bay.

I can dawdle by reflections and shimmering water all day, but eventually I tore myself away and continued around the bay.  I had half a mind to climb up to the Senhora da Guia, but had already been to the top previously, by taxi.  Clouds were scudding about and when the sun disappeared it was cool.  Against my better judgement I headed towards the whaling factory.

It’s a sad fact of life that man and beast often struggle to live side by side.  In the 19th century these islands were the base for a titanic battle between man and whale.  With often averted gaze, I observed the tiny craft which the islanders used to corral the whales and harpoon them to death.  Horrifying though I find it, it was a way of life and a means of survival for islands that were poor and isolated.  I can’t bring myself to share details of the industry but the Fabrica da Baleia (Whaling Factory) explains it for you.  From as young as 13, the men of the islands took to sea, rowing these flimsy vessels in pursuit of their victims.

Whaling was outlawed just 70 years ago.  I’m so happy that leisure boats have replaced the whalers.  The 20th century brought submarine cables to the islands, ensuring telegraphic communications between America and Europe, and now tourism is thriving.

Peace has been restored.  I found this bay oddly disturbing.  Perhaps because of the carnage that once took place here.  I was happy to move on, and we returned to Horta for a meal at Peter’s Sport Café, famous in these parts and full of flags and souvenirs from passing sailors.  You’ll be happy to know that I had a wonderfully healthy hummus salad.  The other half didn’t even have space for cake after his bumper burger.  How sad!

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Lots of walks again this week.  Thank you all, and please find time to visit- especially any blog you don’t know.  Details over on Jo’s Monday walk.

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Debbie has me discombobulated in old Valencia this week :

A casual circumambulation of Valencia’s Barrio del Carmen

Jackie is a terrible temptress, with a love of art :

Summer Tarts

Amazing what you can do with corn!  Just ask Janet :

Monday walk… in tall corn

Toronto looks to have some nice suburbs.  Pay a visit with Indra :

Toronto Summer- Unionville vibes

A few clouds, a bench or two and some lovely old stonework- that’s Anabel in Scotland :

Castle Semple Country Park

While Rosemay revives a few memories for me :

Valley Gardens Harrogate – Walk to Harlow Carr

And Drake is, as always, at home by the water :

Back to the Normandy

Ulli takes us to a place I know quite well from my days with Polish family :

Vast diversity of Wroclaw

Coffee and cake with Irene, but that’s not all!

A Walk to Starbucks

Ruth took a stroll yesterday.  I never mind what day we walk, so long as we do :

Sunday Stroll -Tranmere Coastal Path

Or even linger a little while, like Carol :

Behind the Walls

But if it’s a long walk you want, Cathy’s your expert :

(Camino day 25) Carrion de los Condes to Calzadilla de la Cueza

And finally, let me introduce Anne.  Please do pop over and say hello :

Frome riverside walkway

Feeling quite virtuous with no cake in sight.  This week I’ll be taking you across the water to Pico.  You’ll love it!  Have a happy one!

Jo’s Monday walk : Simply Sáo Jorge

I was captivated by Sáo Jorge from the moment it appeared in the dusky blue, beneath the propellers of my SATA inter-island flight.  Having soared into thick cloud over Ponta Delgada in the afternoon, I was abuzz for the next stage of our adventure.  As the tiny plane dipped towards Sáo Jorge, it was bathed in glorious sunlight.  Beaming from ear to ear, I stepped from the plane and gazed in awe at Pico, with a delicate collar of clouds, right there on the horizon.  Gathering myself, I whisked through the tiny terminal and out into warm sunshine.  The bubble burst momentarily, when I found that the pre-ordered taxi to our hotel was nowhere in sight.  Panic swept in as I fumbled through my papers, seeking address/phone number, but they’re kind folk, these islanders.  In no time, a replacement had been found, and we were climbing the hillside around the bay to Velas.

This was the view from our hotel veranda, with the island of Pico floating dreamily on the horizon.  A lovelier, more peaceful spot than Velas I have yet to find.  I’ve already taken you to the top of the island, and you’ve had a glimpse or two of Velas.  Today we’re on a different mission.  Who could wake up to that view and not want to get out there and explore?

A lovely lass in the Tourist Information office had given us a bus timetable, and we were hopeful that we could make it to the village of Rosais, and walk from there to the lighthouse at the western end of the island.  A minibus not unlike a transit van pulled up, and the lady driver smiled benignly at us as we tumbled hastily in.  It was only a 15 minute ride, and I gazed excitedly at the passing landscape.

Rosais was a pretty enough village, and after just one false start we were headed in the right direction.  Uphill, of course!  After our efforts of the previous day, at Topo da Serra, the legs were already seriously tired.  A gentle 7km had seemed doable but, as we mounted progressively higher, the balmy weather deteriorated and we were quite cool.  Some folk don’t learn, do they?  But we were jollied along by chaffinches in the hedgerows, and a robin keeping a watchful eye on us.  Looking back down to the bay, Pico still loomed enchantingly, but a creamy horse seemed singularly unimpressed by our efforts.  Fortunately, there was an abundance of azaleas, and even a few hydrangeas as incentive.

Reaching an attractive picnic area known as Sete Fontes, and feeling shivery, nourishment was needed.  Yesterday’s leftover orange cookies were stowed in the backpack.  But a myriad of tiny ants had got to them first!  Disconsolate does not describe it!  Our pleasure in the day was rapidly diminishing.  Nothing for it but to press on.  The lighthouse at Ponta dos Rosais was signposted, 6km along a red dirt track.

I have never known such an endless 6km.  The track rolled on and on, in an sequence of ridges.  No sooner had you reached one, than you were plunging downwards again.  We looked for distraction in the surrounding fields, trying not to notice a huge rain cloud gaining on us.  A solitary gentleman, returning from the point, assured us it was not much further, and that it was a stiff climb but we really shouldn’t miss the viewing point.

The stiff climb was almost vertical and we hauled each other up, grimacing.  Part way up we had one of those coincidence, chance encounters that sometimes happen on holidays.  A young German couple we’d seen briefly on the Topo da Serra walk had also decided an easier day was a good idea.  We stood and chatted, discussing the islands and our itineraries, then parted company.  It was too cloudy for the views at the top to be brilliant so I soon started back down, thinking Mick had gone ahead of me.  But I couldn’t see him anywhere on the path.  Deciding he must have gone to the lighthouse, I turned in that direction.  Wearily, I might add.

There was just one small white car parked there, and it turned out to be our young couple, heading for home.  ‘Can we give you a lift?’ was music to my ears.  I really didn’t fancy the trudge back.  ‘Oh, yes, please!  But I can’t find my husband.  Have you seen him?’  ‘No, but we can hang on 5 minutes?’  I scuttled back to the viewing point and who should be strolling nonchalantly down the steps?  ‘Hurry up!  We’ve got a lift!’  🙂  He had, apparently, been reading a signboard that I hadn’t even noticed, all about the whaling industry.  We were so relieved to pile into that car!  And the ride gave us time to exchange a little history.  They were going to Faial next, like us, but then to Flores Island.  I was envious!  It’s the furthest away, and allegedly the loveliest.

The sun was shining brightly as they dropped us off in Rosais.  The plan had been to catch the 2.30 bus back, but after a glass of wine we’d revived enough to consider the options.  The coast line looked superb and there was a quiet road that followed it.  Maybe, a gentle stroll…?  There was no hurry.  And the reward, a sequence of glorious views.

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I love the humps and bumps of this island, and the cows, who stare at you quite incredulously from every second field.  A person could acquire a complex.  Three horses galloped across to see what we might have to offer, but turned their noses up at our ant-ridden biscuits.  Hopefully the birds won’t have been so choosy.  The legs were starting to feel leaden as we reached the miradouro on the edge of Velas.  Overall we must have walked about 15km.  I hope you won’t begrudge us cake?

Cafe Livramento was right next door to our hotel.  How convenient was that?  And beautiful food too.  I hope you’re not bored with my ramblings in the Azores?  I promise not to spin it out too long, but this is only our second island.

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Meanwhile, it’s on with the sharing.  Thanks to everybody who stops by, and especially to those who leave a walk in the comments.  Be happy to see you next week, here on Jo’s Monday walk.

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It seems such a long time since I was in Barcelona.  It’s full of striking buildings, like this one, from Debbie :

Short circuit with a view

Albert continues his walk this week, beside the Molongo River :

Uriarra Loop Walk

Sea pinks, Campion, and fields of waving poppies.  We must be in Jude territory :

Walking the Kelseys

I always appreciate sky and sea, in any colours, so thanks, Susanne :

Blue and White at Coulon Park

Drake seldom disappoints with the things he shares.  Step back in time with this one :

Outing in the backdrop

And, in case you’re in the grip of the current heatwave, saunter over to Sandra’s place for a cool off!

Silver Falls & Grove of the Patriarchs, Mount Rainier National Park

While Cathy plays with donkeys on this stretch of the Camino :

(Camino day 23) Boadilla del Camino to Villarmentero de Campos

There are lots of lovely Blues in this post, but I realise I’ve been most remiss in not squaring one.  After all, it’s July 1st, and Becky is full steam ahead again!  Never mind- I’m sure I’ll round a few up, and that many of you will too.  Have a great week!

Ponta Delgada- the gardens

I think we’ve agreed that the streets of Ponta Delgada by night are spellbinding, when Senhor Santo Cristo dos Milagres comes to town.  We savoured the atmosphere that evening, knowing that we had just a few hours the following day to confirm our impressions.  An afternoon flight was taking us onward, to the island of Sáo Jorge.  After breakfast, a left turn from our hotel led us uphill, in search of botanic gardens.  I liked the menagerie we passed by.  Down a cul-de-sac, still more lay in wait.

A small chapel looked down, from the top of the hill.  Some of the balconies were garlanded with flowers as we passed by, and hounds stood to attention, guarding the city shield.  17th century Capela de Sant’Ana is within the grounds of the Jardim Botanico José do Canto.  The gardens had scarcely opened, but a young man directed us up some ancient steps.  As we stepped inside, the gloom was pierced, lighting the wooden altar.

José do Canto(1820-1898) was a wealthy man with an interest in botany, collecting specimens from around the world.  His private collection covers about 2 acres, with palms, eucalypts, a flurry of agapanthus and lots of determined, softly nodding pink lilies, which seem to thrive in this climate.  I admired the bark and patterns created among the trees.  By far my favourite was the enormous fig tree (Ficus Macrophylla), with its fantasy of roots.  The conservatory, hiding in the background, gave it a wonderful air of mystery.

I really enjoyed the luxury of having this tropical paradise all to ourselves, but visitors were starting to arrive and I could no longer pretend I lived in the big house.  Just a little further along the road I hoped to find Jardim Antonio Borges.  A more public space, initially this was a little disappointing, but you had to marvel at the lake and grottoes.  Small cockerels strutted around, calling piercingly to each other, and there was an even mightier fig tree, providing doubtful entertainment as a playpen for adults.

The weather had turned grey again, and just a little damp.  We found ourselves killing time as we waited for the taxi to take us to the airport.  I know it’s not Monday, but what else but cake?