Flores and Corvo
Through the night, the Endeavour sailed over the Mid-Atlantic Ridge to the two most outlying islands of the Azores group. Flores and Corvo are tectonically American, yet politically European, and in reality, in a world of their own. This morning as we tied up at Lajes do Flores, the sun rose late as we had docked farther westward in the time zone. With some reflection, we realized we are in a time zone practically of our own at these oceanic meridians.
As pictured, Europe’s westernmost landfall, the islet of Monchique, sits just off Fajã Grande on the Floresian coast; although, you might think you were in Kauai with the backdrop of lush green waterfall-filled cliffs descending from island top mists. Verdant, rugged and sculpted, this island is a true jewel with spectacular coastal views of its sea cliffs, fajãs (flat seaside plateaus), columnar basalt formations, and lush valleys.
To the north, across a short windswept stretch of ocean, sits Flores’ little sister, Corvo, the smallest and least populated Azorean island (population 400). The channel between these two dramatically beautiful islands could be considered the true gates of Europe, through which you pass eastward towards the mainland some 1000 miles distant. While we couldn’t quite see that far from atop the islands, the wide-angle panoramic views over the ocean were encompassing.
With warm local hospitality and every available vehicle, we ascended Corvo’s one road to the caldera atop this remnant volcano isle, where we could see lakes, cattle, and checkerboard farming between the sweeping mists. As we descended by foot, we passed veritable mini-thickets of lichens on rocks, painted doors within hydrangea hedge walls, light play on terraced cow pastures and the rippled canvas of ocean beyond.
Back aboard the Endeavour, we embarked eastwards back towards the central Azores, leaving behind the lost worlds of Corvo and Flores and their enchanting beauty.
Through the night, the Endeavour sailed over the Mid-Atlantic Ridge to the two most outlying islands of the Azores group. Flores and Corvo are tectonically American, yet politically European, and in reality, in a world of their own. This morning as we tied up at Lajes do Flores, the sun rose late as we had docked farther westward in the time zone. With some reflection, we realized we are in a time zone practically of our own at these oceanic meridians.
As pictured, Europe’s westernmost landfall, the islet of Monchique, sits just off Fajã Grande on the Floresian coast; although, you might think you were in Kauai with the backdrop of lush green waterfall-filled cliffs descending from island top mists. Verdant, rugged and sculpted, this island is a true jewel with spectacular coastal views of its sea cliffs, fajãs (flat seaside plateaus), columnar basalt formations, and lush valleys.
To the north, across a short windswept stretch of ocean, sits Flores’ little sister, Corvo, the smallest and least populated Azorean island (population 400). The channel between these two dramatically beautiful islands could be considered the true gates of Europe, through which you pass eastward towards the mainland some 1000 miles distant. While we couldn’t quite see that far from atop the islands, the wide-angle panoramic views over the ocean were encompassing.
With warm local hospitality and every available vehicle, we ascended Corvo’s one road to the caldera atop this remnant volcano isle, where we could see lakes, cattle, and checkerboard farming between the sweeping mists. As we descended by foot, we passed veritable mini-thickets of lichens on rocks, painted doors within hydrangea hedge walls, light play on terraced cow pastures and the rippled canvas of ocean beyond.
Back aboard the Endeavour, we embarked eastwards back towards the central Azores, leaving behind the lost worlds of Corvo and Flores and their enchanting beauty.
