Azores v. 4.1

Here I am again, for the fourth time!


Biscoitos (that's right, biscuits!), a rugged stretch of coast on Terceira's northern coast, is a great "introduction" to the unique azorean BLUE. Since I had a few hours between flights, I thought I should return to the place after 16 years (... jeez, this doesn't sound good) and leave some knee and elbow flesh on the sharp lava rocks. There, done.


"Veja só esta veja (Sparisoma cretense), tire uma foto a esta veja!"
The thick azorean accent is a bit hard to understand. This proud fisherman was on his way to the grill, whereas I was feeling like Averell Dalton as a fat cow crossed the road.


Lava rock walls provide shelter to some vineyards near Biscoitos.


Captain, sir... this plane looks kind of slow at 1/1000s.


Quechua quechua under a Castanea sativa.


This is across the road from the campsite. Deep, clear water... dark cliffs... screaming garajaus (Sterna hirundo hirundo) by the dozen... I guess I'll be allright.


Night falls over São Roque do Pico.


Is that you, Moby?