So if walking each day is better for your heart and brain…nothing more refreshing than a stroll against the wind!
So cardiologists and medical experts seem to agree with my wife, and she is not making those big bucks. Since I got back to the island, appeared after quarantine, and returned to her kitchen, she thinks eating fish, fruit, veggies, and walking every day will make me live longer. So I’ve “volunteered” to live longer…strengthening my heart, my mind, and my legs with morning walks.
Honestly, I can’t complain (that doesn’t mean I don’t!) when morning walks along the coast feature friendly greetings, occasionally warm greetings from puppies also out walking, a coffee at one end or the other, and best of all, wild wind and waves. Recently a storm brought waves crashing over the breakwalls, over the sidewalks, roads, and yes, even the occasional pedestrian. It was AWESOME! Anyone can walk in the sun, but a 40-knot wind and 4-meter waves…that’s for me.
So you see, not only do I have a better lifestyle, a longer lease on life (Covid permitting) and some delicious seafood and fresh fruits and veggies for lunch (still have to have some red wine with lunch!) I also increase the expectation that medical visits will decrease and I’ll meet more friendly folks on walks.
Now, if I could just convince her and the doctors that Gin is a clear liquid and also healthy…:) Meantime, see you at the beach.
Darn the bad luck…The boss doesn’t want me to hang clothes:(
I do try. Honest. I try to eat the local dishes, speak and write the local dialect, even work around the house to clean and shine the way she and her family have done it for generations. But I’m so disappointed…she doesn’t like the way I put clothes on the line. So she asked me to not help her hang clothes.
Oh darn, I guess I’ll never get the hang of it….pun intended. So if you see her hanging clothes and need to see me…I’m inside drinking a beer:) Or putting the clothes into the dryer!
Visiting Matriz da Praia, the church where Sofia and I got married
Returning at Christmas (Natal) in Praia da Vitoria, some things haven’t changed since 1679, other things are amazingly different. The church is still beautiful, intricate, very hallowed. It’s also empty, as are the streets. Few pedestrians on the fussgangerzone (Pedestrian zone) and they are mostly wearing masks. Traditional warm greetings of Boas Festas (literally Good Celebration) are now largely replaced by a semi-curt nod; only the eyes if you’re close enough to see them relay warmth. Largely the wonderment of the season is replaced by the trepidation of “What’s tomorrow bringing?” When family gathers (many times, but only up to 10 at a time) discussions of “What’s happening in America?” and “What do you hear of things on mainland Portugal?”
One of the first stops on returning the island is always Matriz da Praia where we married many many many years ago. A visit to the cemitario to pay respects to friends, family and always Padre Candido, the wonderful priest who married us (and baptized Sofia, and confirmed, etc…). For me, I guess it’s a way of re-establishing my roots in my adopted home; it always works to get my mind back into island life.
And it helps get ready for this weird Christmas season…the knowledge that each of the generations before have not had Covid, but they have all faced challenges and triumphed. As will we!!!!
Wanted to spend some time with my offspring in the states. Left two days before Thanksgiving…2019. Had wonderful holidays, did some travelling (never enough), visited friends and made planes to visit more, then the world changed and we found ourselves “locked down” in the States. So we adjusted; got a couple of part-time jobs, got an apartment in Alexandria, and spent most of our time watching Netflix from the comfort of our little futon. Occasionally I would help out in my old office in the Department of the Interior, go grocery shopping with one daughter, meander up the liquor store, and wait for the world to change back. Making calls, video chats, Zoom meetings, and the like…some local, and some long distance!
So it was a different Rat Race, but we evolved until we could return to our island paradise, family, friends (all wearing masks now)! So we’re back in Porto Martins, sitting on our couch, wearing masks, watching Netflix, occasionally going grocery shopping, and calling friends and family to see how everyone how everyone is weathering….still some calls are local and some are long distance.
Saved considerable amounts of money on this lockdown…since I’m High-Risk for the virus, I didn’t want to risk exposure to a barber when they did open things up. Some say “it’s the real you” and others say “Arghhhh, get a haircut!” Maybe when things settle down after the vaccines are out:)
Annual Praia Fest parades cancelled this year for the pandemic, sad but necessary.
Missing Home! Yesterday Air Azores started flights back to the island for the first time in months. First flights were filled, we hear. This also on the heels of news that the U.S. is not on the list allowing visitors to Europe, and the slightly confusing reports that the Azores may or may not play by the same rules. We’ll wait and see what options develop; we miss home and we also love so many friends and family on the island that we have no desire to endanger any of them. Meanwhile, we isolate, watch TV, and drink Aguar Dente!
Overwatch — that’s what we used to call the team which had the best vantage point and sufficient power to keep an eye on anyone operating at a lower level. That’s the team who never tired, you could always count on, had the most creativity, communication skills and knew when to act and when not to.
Here at Casa da Sonho, we currently have a great overwatch team commanded by a great friend and neighbor… and her team:)
Bumper Junior and Easy E stand OverwatchDonkeys on nearby Captain’s Mountain (Pico do Capitao) overlooking Casa da Sonhos
Sofia and Christina join ladies at Porto Martins Senior’s Support activity
So if you’re looking to find something to keep you busy, help your adopted community, and meet some great folks, look into joining the local neighbors who gather every Tuesday to make and serve lunch for area seniors.
Sofia and Christine (neighbor ahd childhood BFF) join local ladies, share recipes and family stories each week, while whipping up some truly delectable dishes. Meanwhile, a local bus picks up about 25 seniors, brings them to the Casa da Povo, where everyone enjoys updates, cards, crafts, and memories.
It’s refreshing and invigorating. Astonishment abounds. One gentleman who was older than 80 excused himself from the table to answer his cell phone. I was astonished because he grew up in the days of horse and donkey carts, cars, airplanes, wars, wired telephones phones, television, and now mobile phones. Amazing!!
Equally amazing is how the Casa da Povo still is a center of village activity, bullfights and celebrations, concerts, dances, and religious observances still provide so much social structure to this island with one movie theater and no malls.
The warden and her friend clean up after we put in a flower bed lining the walkway between our front door and the front gate at Casa Da Sonhos. So when you come visit, you’ll be greeted by beauty, warmth, and love.
Thank goodness, we have more flowers, a new flower bed on each side of the front walkway, and a more difficult lawn mowing job…do you detect just a little sarcasm?
Things here on the island run slow. Very slow. Sofia planned the flower beds last January, we ordered the cement borders from mainland, they arrived in August, and we planted them yesterday. Our wonderful neighbor helped, and we spent most of the day working on flower beds in our yard, in the street in front of our house (a turn-around overlooking the bay and a popular place for tourists) and in Christina’s yard.
One stereotype for retirees is “working in the garden.” I wasn’t expecting that to be part of my retirement. Hmmmmm, expectations and life don’t always balance out, right? But…. Happy wife, Happy life:)
Like our family, Casa da Sonhos is a mix of traditions from the US and Portugal. Many of the homes here, some dating back hundreds of years, boast hand-painted tiles by the door with the name of the family living there. Our hand-painted tile (made by one of the oldest tile painters in Praia da Vitoria) was embedded into the wall by an excellent craftsman and friend, Domingos; it’s literally the last thing we needed to complete construction on Casa Da Sonhos (still have things to add, but home construction is complete now!)
Another tradition is the morning coffee, hand-ground by the grinder my father used when I was born (long, long time ago:). This grinder has travelled the world and is now still grinding beans into a fresh cup of joe very morning. One of my earliest memories is this grinder sitting on the old blue kitchen cabinet which moved with my family from Ada to Iron Mountain, Mansfield, and many points in between. Now it sits in the kitchen window in Porto Martins, Azores and reminds me each time of mom and dad.
Friend Domingos putting up our traditional Azorean Tile nameplate
Sofia nad Rick showing of the final element of home construction, the traditional hand-painted tile nameplate embedded into the house by the front door. It identifies the residents for hundreds of years, and will also remind us of our names as we get old and forget:)
My father’s coffee grinder still making our morning cup of coffee
Moving, visiting, or returning; I always visit the library!
My darling returns to her roots…we visit the Praia da Vitoria Public Library…in the same building where she attended first through third grade…up these same stone steps!
Wherever I go, I strive to learn more about the local culture, and one of the best places is always the local library. I always meet the librarians; they have a broad spectrum of resources, they are friendly, smart, and helpful. (See Janie, I do like librarians:))
In our new home, the library also happens to be in the same building where my darling bride attended school nearly half a century ago — I was starting high school then:) She remembers walking up these same steps. We also learned the librarian attended the same school when she was that age. Small world:)
Take it from me, if you travel, move, retire, adopt a different culture, or just plain want to relax and learn at your own pace (no homework!) get a library card…I always have and always will. You learn more, meet some amazing people, and it doesn’t cost a thing!
Fresh milk from our neighbor’s cows…and Sofia made her famous Sweet Rice to lower back down to the farmer while he finished milking chores for the day:)
Neighbors and sharing are truly a way of life here. Latest example involved our neighboring field, where we’ve gotten to know the farmers, the cows, and enjoy one of the farmer’s serenading the cows with hymns while he’s milking them…rain or shine.
Today Sofia said Hi (Actually she said ‘Ola’) to the brothers and offered them some of her favorite dessert here…fresh Arroz Doce, or Sweet Rice. While I am not crazy about it, many people in her family beg her to make some for family picnics, gatherings, etc.
So she lowered a pitcher, Jose sent up fresh milk (I mean right from the cow fresh!) and she fired up the Bimby, made a batch of Arroz Doce, and lowered it down the wall to the field below where Jose, and his brother Manuel, were just taking the cows home.
Sweet Rice or Arroz Doce is a very popular, easy to make dessert here, and can be used for bartering for many things on Terceira.A hook up, lowering fresh Sweet Rice to a happy farmer who just milked his cows and gave the warm milk to Sofia to cook the Arroz Doce in the Bimby.Heading home after a hard day making milk in the fields next door to Casa da Sonhos.
Perhaps the best bullfight of the season…a field-based bullfight with younger children and smaller bulls
Brave lads tangle with younger bulls…getting ready for Future Bullfighters of Terceira
Of the dozens of street bullfights we’ve attended this summer season, none hold a candle to the one in the field behind my old house in Porto Martins. It was very young bulls (or maybe cows) and very young bullfighters (I wonder when girls/young ladies/women on the island will venture into the field?) but the average age was around 13-ish, I’m guessing.
Grass was wet, the animals and the people slipped, the umbrellas (used for egging on a bull) were severely battered, and more than one person ended up smacking into the bull, on the ground under the animal, and one of the handlers even had a horn rip his pants, much to the crowd’s delight.
If you’re not familiar, the horns of each bull are protected by screwing “caps” of brass onto the horns while they are still in their box. (I got to watch closely for once, and they actually used a pipe wrench to put it on and off) to protect the would-be matadors. Just as in the street bullfights, the animals are tethered to a long rope with six brave and true handlers helping guide the bull up and down the field, and they can attempt to restrain an “out of control” animal…but this rarely happens.
There are many traditions associated with these street bullfights, which brings entire communities together throughout the summer months. This field bullfight for younger people helps ensure that future generations will observe these same traditions. And it was exciting fun at the same time:)
One of the majestic floats during Praia Festas 2019 Opening parade
This is the beginning night of Praia Festas, when thousands of Azoreans, European, American and Canadians converge in our happy little burg. Nightly parades, concerts, restaurants from all regions, large quantities of wine, gin, caipirinhas, and other adult beverages, and friends and family for one glorious week.
We started the evening with a Mexican dinner for neighbors. Our patio with a great view, flawless weather (slight breeze, sunlight, mid-80’s temperatures) and Sofia’s fantastic enchiladas, tacos, real American sour cream (thank you Nancy and Glenn), margaritas, Sangria, and fantastic tart (obrigada Lucia). Lots of food prep and cleaning (well, nothing’s perfect) and our fabulous neighbor Cristina’s help, everyone had a great time.
For me, after the margaritas ran dry, I resorted to my favorite Gin and Tonic with one GIANT ice cube which lasted all night (thank you Bill!).
Then we all went down to the festivals, crowds, parades, music, and floats. You can imagine, parking was a nightmare, but we had a great spot reserved for us (obrigado Jose Luis) and by the time we got home, we were dragging, happy, and slept well.
My darling wife wanted to come back to her home, have fun with her family, go swimming nearly every day and have coffee with her father, and enjoy the bullfights and festivals. She designed a house to facilitate large dinner gatherings, and have a magnificent view of the ocean and the town where she grew up. There have been many trials and tribulations (and more to come I’m sure) but last night, it all worked. Missing my girls, but still have a wonderful family night on the island. Muito Obrigada!!!
The USCGC Eagle sails out of Praia da Vitoria, still flying the beautiful U.S. flag. We spent many hours with the crew and cadets, including eating, drinking, hiking, touring, and standing in the rain. Seeing the flag makes us feel great about my past defending the U.S.A. and talking with the cadets makes me feel better about the future of the U.S.A.
With mixed emotions we bid farewell to the USCGC Eagle after participation in the Praia da Vitoria celebration of the U.S. 4th of July celebration. Apparently much of it was organized by the US Embassy Lisbon. I spent a great deal of time with the cadets (drinking in rain-soaked bars and hiking down island trails) and also talking with embassy, Camara da Praia, and base officials.
I expect that to the U.S. Department of Homeland Security and the U.S. Coast Guard and the U.S State Department, this was mostly a training opportunity for the cadets and a Show of the Flag operation. To many of us living on this remote island in the Atlantic, this was a tremendous reminder of the country we love. Many hundreds of us visit our homeland occasionally, talk to loved ones there often, and watch day-old newscasts about what’s happening at home. We talk often (with some adult beverages involved) about the good, the bad, the great memories, the pain and the joy of our lives in America. Behind each face in each discussion are memories, some good, some painful, but each amplifying diverse emotions. This diversity is bound together by one thing which was on display for a few days in the harbor…our love of a great nation!
Thank you to every American tax payer that footed the bill for this visit. Lest we ever complain about how your tax dollar is used (of course, I never have:) ) we thank you for the pittance spent on this USCGC Eagle visit. I, for one, truly appreciate this reminder. And thanks again to Lee Greenwood for a tag line….
Hours into a hiking trail, we crossed through fields of cows (some not too happy to see us) and then discovered this aging barn…next to the island’s 2017 four-megawatt geothermal plant harnessing subterranean renewable energy; to be the second largest binary geothermal plant in the world.
I love the juxtaposition of Terceira, I always have. From antiquated (maybe I should say more restrictive) dating protocols to donkey carts with milk cans in a parking meter zone, the old and the new live side by side and strongly influence each other.
I’m truly amazed when I visit Padre Candido’s grave in the Praia cemetery (Padre Candido performed every ceremony for my wife’s generation in the main church — baptisms, communions, confirmations, and funerals) where many visitors still are shrouded completely in black to visit their loved one’s graves. This year, across the street from the cemetery, is our newest restaurant, a Burger King with signs in English and the tallest, most non-traditional sign towering above the antique cemetery.
Recently we’re trudging through yet another cow pasture as part of another marked hiking trail. We head down a dirt trail and pass one of the hundreds of hand-built, stone barns which have served families and their cows for centuries. Behind one I hear and then see a geothermal electric generation facility – the second largest in the world when it opened in 2017. This system (trying to paraphrase some really tough words) harnesses the steam and pressures in the volcanic island to generate about 10% of the island’s electricity. And 50 feet away, farmers repair rock walls and old wooden gates to keep milk cows in their pasture.
Sometimes I wonder how the generations and technological advances exist. One anthropological measure of a culture explores how change and tradition interact. From my limited understanding of these wonderful people in this European environment, I have to admire how they go to church on Sundays and Holy days, and then drive both donkey carts and GPS-guided tractors to their fields to raise sustenance for their families.
It’s not always a perfect balance, and it’s not always peace and harmony. But it is working, and I’m having a magnificent time exploring and learning about how they maintain traditions and also capitalize on new technology. I’m learning more about my neighbors, my in-laws, and I’m even learning more about myself and America.
So when I get impatient and frustrated with stores are closed for lunch, or when the cows are blocking the road while I’m in a hurry, I force myself to remember that this island is not “backwards,” they are more advanced than I was when living in DC. They have evolved into a more balanced way of coping with life!
After a wonderful (and very windy) family picnic yesterday, several of us decided to “walk off the calories” climbing to the top of nearby Pico Matius Simao, a tall rocky outcrop near Altares, towering above farmlands, villages, and the on the very edge of the Atlantic ocean. Up there we met a very friendly farmer who helped us identify distant sights, gave us directions to another great trail to hike, and described some of the recent storm damage which washed away streets in nearby villages. Never got his name, just a very friendly guy showing some Canadian friends around his island.
The next time I saw him he was desperately grasping a cement power pole on the main street while an angry bull tried to vent it’s hostilities on the guy hanging above the bull. Perhaps an explanation is in order?
After the man’s group left the Pico (in a classic VW Beetle – I’d say circa 1968 to 1970 or so) they were off to nearby Quatro Ribeiro to watch one of the islands 5 street bullfights for yesterday’s Portuguese holiday. It was a small crowd (about 1,000 or so), winds had died down somewhat, and four bulls. The first bull was easily tired out, the second charged toward a crowd behind a cement wall and broke a tip off a horn, and the third bull had energy and charged toward the same crowd, egged on by several skilful folks teasing with umbrellas and red cloth. The gentleman in question was leaning on a power pole in a yard about 1 meter above street level, protected by the cement wall, when the bull decided he’d had enough. Mr. Bull jumped over the wall, chased some of the folks around a nice family’s front yard, and then spied our farmer friend by the power pole. Bull charged, and our new friend clambered up the pole, where he hung on for about 3 minutes before the bull was pulled back into the street.
You’d have to understand the Terceira fascination with street bullfights (Search YouTube for Terceira Bullfights, there are many there!). Bullfights are an island tradition dating back to the middle 1400’s; they provide sport for the people, do not harm the bulls, a great social environment, a boost for local economies, a great chance for young guys (and some not so young) to show off for girls, young ladies and wives, spend a few hours and have days worth of conversation.
If someone had told me 25 years ago that I’d be sitting on a wall around a church built in 1451 watching a friendly farmer get “treed” by an angry bull for holiday fun, I would have been EXTREMELY skeptical. Yet here I am, loving it, sometimes having so much fun getting to know people, history and culture, and yes, drinking a bier or two with friends and family.
Seen this volcano crater from the nearby road many times…we decided to try the Trail Roche do Chambre (rated ‘medium”) and spent four hours celebrating nature’s beauty on the island. (There may have been a bit of cursing nature a few times!)
If you leave at 9 a.m. Saturday morning, you might miss the crowds. Family invited us along to enjoy another “medium” trail to the top of the volcano crater which takes up a large part of volcanic Ilha Terceira (the last eruption in this crater was in 1761). It is truly beautiful, truly inspiring, truly more than a “3-hour tour'” and truly more difficult than “medium” as tourists are told. But it was wonderful.
Loose rocks, disgruntled cows, high winds at the summit, ropes to help with the climb, looking straight down more than 700 meters, and puzzling over why there are a few trees much taller and straighter than the rest of the trees in the crater. One young lady only fell a few times, once into a deep crevasse, but nothing serious (brave, tough, and beautiful, that’s how these island woman are!). We saw dozens of different types of trees, soils, rocks, flowers, birds… all things which probably fascinated Darwin when he went to the crater September20, 1836. Beautiful. But then again, he was a lot younger than I.
We braved wind and sun, made it up and down, and pretty much arrived home exhausted. But what a fabulous trip with loved ones all loving nature! Can’t wait to do it again.
He visited Terceira on the Beagle on 16 September 1836 and liked Terceira
When I announced I was retiring to this island, many many many (enough get the idea?) friends and family inquired regarding my sanity…seems no one thought I could just “retire,” as apparently some perceive it against my nature of staying busy. So I added that I would find something to occupy my mind … something besides gin and beaches.
My dear friend and colleague Vince provided me with a unique opportunity when he was researching where I would retire; Vince discovered a book by Patrick Armstrong from the University of Western Australia’s Department of Geology entitled Charles Darwin’s Last Island: Terceira, Azores, 1836. Vince also helped me get in touch with Professor Armstrong, who applauded my plan and sent me one of his last autographed copies of the 64-page book. Armstrong has written extensively on the voyages of the HMS Beagle and Charles Darwin.
My project to stay busy is to examine various accounts of the stop at Terceira (after five years at sea) before Darwin finally returned to England. My plan is to develop a presentation for tourists of Darwin’s stops around the island, his comments and impressions, and offer a better understanding of his work at Terceira. It seems Darwin liked the island, the geology, the flora and fauna, the people and culture. So do I. So to learn more about my adopted home, I will retrace his impressions. (To do the project justice, I must also learn more about some of Darwin’s observations in geology, botany, natural history, evolution, and socioeconomic cultures).
As a side note, Author Patrick Armstrong visited Terceira for his book in May of 1992, unbeknownst to me. At that time I was stationed at Lajes AB with the American Air Force and was busy planning my wedding to the most beautiful girl on the island in just a few months. Indeed, it is entirely possible that the professor and I dined at the same places and visited the same landmarks simultaneously and didn’t know it.
So if you’re used to being active, using both brain and technology to make some contribution to our civilization (no matter how small), and retiring, I suggest you look at your skills, find a project which keeps them sharp, and set a leisurely course for a project to give you something to think about … and if it helps you learn more about your new environment, so much the better.
Bull! Our first bullfight of the season, in our village of Porto Martins…the wife and neighbor sat atop a wall and watched as four bulls came out, one at a time, not to hurt anyone but to dodge brave spectators. Friends, neighbors, strangers, many folks came out, shared sentiments and cervasas, and enjoyed a peaceful two hours together. None of the bulls are harmed in any way, and always are tethered by rope to six guys.
I’ve never been a huge fan of one of the island’s main entertainments; nearly every village hosts several street bullfights each year. According to my friend from Taxi Amigo Hildeberto, they’ve been hosting street bullfights on Terceira since 1622. That’s nearly 500 years of tradition, so who am I to not embrace a time-honored tradition? As usual, we had a wonderful time, there is some suspense and action, punctuated by some lulls to grab a beer and bifanas, catch up on neighborhood or international politics, and enjoy the scenery. This bullfight is along the street bordering the ocean, outside the community center and a grand old church.
Street “bullfights” are kind of a misnomer, the bulls are not “fought” but rather taunted by brave souls who demonstrate their agility by running and jumping out of the bull’s way. Spectators line the streets and are kept safe by sitting on high walls or behind them. Each bull, before it is let out of the wooden crate they are delivered in, has a rope placed around it’s neck and six guys hang on to the rope to keep the bull in check and to “guide” him along so everyone along the street gets to see the show. Then the bulls are led back into their crates, the bulls return to their mountain home to graze and do what bulls do, while everyone walks home and discusses which bulls had more temper, which person did the best job of evading upset bulls (or didn’t, but usually no ambulances are called) and what everyone was wearing, how fast the kids are growing, and the latest futebol scores.
I try to embrace everything when I move around. I volksmarched in Germany, sat around the fire and ate almonds in Tunisa, sunned on beaches in Spain, danced in “A”-town” outside Kunsan, and made booze runs to “wet” counties to stock party barges in Arkansas. Some things are naturally enjoyable, some things are an acquired taste, some things are just necessary to make the warden happy. I may never “sign up” for something, but I always find some friends, some comfort, and some new joys when I try to broaden my horizons. Variety is the spice of life:)
Hiking trails dot the island, and longer summer days are a fantastic chance for families and friends to get together, laugh hysterically, and get some exercise. Fair warning…hiking up some of these hills take a lot of energy:)
Living many years in Germany, I have Volksmarched in hundreds of villages, always enjoying the company, the camaraderie, wine, bier and soup. I still have many medallions by which to remember these walks. (Try explaining to the wife why we need to keep these memories and move them around the world for decades while they stay in a box in the garage!) Terceira boasts many magnificent marked walking trails, so we forego the medallions and take long leisurely (mostly) walks with friends, family, and folks we’ll get to know better.
Birds, cows, bulls, scenic shorelines, waves, distant sailboats, and historic buildings are commonplace. Seems like every turn on the trail brings us to an old barn, fort, and farmers caring for their herds. Ancient stone “line shacks” built generations ago for people and equipment to brave high winds and rain while tending herds of milking cows, horses and donkeys. Historic forts along the coast bear witness to the defense of islands centuries ago, and shrines, memorials, and crosses bear witness to generations of hard-working people and their struggles, sacrifices and triumphs. Walking these trails also gives a retiree time to think about our lives; for example, I record most of my struggles, sacrifices and triumphs on digital media…so generations from now, will my grandchildren (sem dica filhas, não apressando ninguém) miss the sun, fresh winds, and exercise of these walks)? Will they miss climbing those damn high hills?
Speculation is academic, I learned many years ago to live in the moment. I’ll forego the medallions, forego the bier, brötchen and wurst (sadly), and strike out on a new trail to make new memories. Evening hikes on Terceira with family and friends make new memories and I recommend them highly. They make wonderful moments, enjoyable blog content (I hope), exciting digital photos, and that’s important to me right now!
View of Porto Martins from the top of the trail near Tres Marias, Terceira, Azores, Portugal.
