{"id":2755,"date":"2024-07-24T19:58:58","date_gmt":"2024-07-24T19:58:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/?p=2755"},"modified":"2024-07-24T20:10:07","modified_gmt":"2024-07-24T20:10:07","slug":"off-the-coast-of-africa-cape-verde-is-a-surprising-hiking-hot-spot","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/off-the-coast-of-africa-cape-verde-is-a-surprising-hiking-hot-spot\/","title":{"rendered":"Off the coast of Africa, Cape Verde is a surprising hiking hot spot."},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t<div data-elementor-type=\"wp-post\" data-elementor-id=\"2755\" class=\"elementor elementor-2755\">\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-19bfdd57 e-flex e-con-boxed e-con e-parent\" data-id=\"19bfdd57\" data-element_type=\"container\" data-settings=\"{&quot;content_width&quot;:&quot;boxed&quot;}\" data-core-v316-plus=\"true\">\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"e-con-inner\">\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-73a99d88 elementor-widget elementor-widget-text-editor\" data-id=\"73a99d88\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"text-editor.default\">\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-container\">\n\t\t\t<style>\/*! elementor - v3.19.0 - 07-02-2024 *\/\n.elementor-widget-text-editor.elementor-drop-cap-view-stacked .elementor-drop-cap{background-color:#69727d;color:#fff}.elementor-widget-text-editor.elementor-drop-cap-view-framed .elementor-drop-cap{color:#69727d;border:3px solid;background-color:transparent}.elementor-widget-text-editor:not(.elementor-drop-cap-view-default) .elementor-drop-cap{margin-top:8px}.elementor-widget-text-editor:not(.elementor-drop-cap-view-default) .elementor-drop-cap-letter{width:1em;height:1em}.elementor-widget-text-editor .elementor-drop-cap{float:left;text-align:center;line-height:1;font-size:50px}.elementor-widget-text-editor .elementor-drop-cap-letter{display:inline-block}<\/style>\t\t\t\t<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>On Santo Ant\u00e3o, silence can strike like a blow. One minute you can be bouncing in the back of a growling pick-up, en route to hike the island\u2019s serrated hills, the next, you\u2019ve been deposited at the foot of a cliff, the taxi has faded from earshot and the world, and all its climatic fury, is muted.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>Spend any time on Santo Ant\u00e3o \u2014 Cape Verde\u2019s northwesternmost and most mountainous isle \u2014 and you grow accustomed to a raucous soundtrack. Adrift in the Atlantic, 350-odd nautical miles off the West African coast, it\u2019s part of a 10-island nation that is as rowdy as it is remote. There\u2019s the thrashing of the ocean, all white fizz and fury. The relentless northeast trade winds, rattling the sugarcane and banana palms. And then there\u2019s the music: melancholic morna, upbeat funan\u00e1; guitars in bars, melodies floating from farmhouses and car stereos.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>But in those rare moments when you\u2019re sheltered from the gusts, waves and radios, a deafening silence reveals Cape Verde as it truly is: a place out on a limb, held captive by the ocean, a long way from anywhere at all. It\u2019s a long way from popular perceptions, too. When most people think of Cape Verde, they likely picture the flat, blonde-blue shoreline of Sal to the east. Not Santo Ant\u00e3o, an island raw and warped, thrust up and cracked open, variously stark and lush. It\u2019s like a Madeira on steroids, or a tropical Iceland; a rock that seems newly birthed from the Earth\u2019s mantle, still bearing every scar.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>Cape Verde has always been a hardscrabble place. The archipelago was, depending on your preference for geology or legend, burped from volcanic hotspots or formed from the crumbs God brushed off his fingers after Creation. When the Portuguese came across the islands in 1458, they found them uninhabited \u2014 and strategically located. Cape Verde became a key hub for trading enslaved people, with thousands of unwilling souls bought and sold here each year. Gradually, the population grew, comprising descendants of both enslaved and free Africans, Jews fleeing persecution, and Portuguese and other European settlers. But it was no easy life, with the land and its people mistreated over centuries by both colonial powers and Mother Nature.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:image {\"id\":2760} -->\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image\"><img fetchpriority=\"high\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"2560\" height=\"1707\" src=\"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-4-scaled.jpeg\" alt=\"Boats docked at a harbour town surrounded by mountains\" class=\"wp-image-2760\" srcset=\"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-4-scaled.jpeg 2560w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-4-300x200.jpeg 300w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-4-1024x683.jpeg 1024w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-4-768x512.jpeg 768w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-4-1536x1024.jpeg 1536w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-4-2048x1365.jpeg 2048w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2560px) 100vw, 2560px\" \/><figcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Situated on S\u00e3o Vicente island, Mindelo has been built around a natural harbour.PHOTOGRAPH BY JUSTIN FOULKES<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<!-- \/wp:image -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>When the archipelago gained independence from Portugal in 1975, it was a product of all these things, emerging with a unique Creole culture. Its people officially speak Portuguese, but colloquially Cape Verdean Kriolu. Life is still lived at the whim of the elements, while society is moulded by the not fully translatable concepts of morabeza (warmth and openness) and sodade (longing, to both leave and stay) \u2014 the latter felt by those driven to seek work overseas despite loving their homeland. Today, more Cape Verdeans live abroad than in Cape Verde itself.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:heading -->\n<h2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">Thirsty work<\/h2>\n<!-- \/wp:heading -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>I\u2019m here for a week\u2019s hiking in Santo Ant\u00e3o, but, given it has no airport, I start my trip in Mindelo, on the neighbouring island of S\u00e3o Vicente. The port town, built around a natural harbour, was a key Atlantic stop-off for coal ships in the 19th century. A little forgotten now, its brightly painted streets \u2014 royal blue, lemon-lime, candy pink \u2014 spill back from the crescent bay, backed by bare hills, and still have a pleasing bustle. There are joggers, dogs trotting, fishermen descaling the day\u2019s catch. At the market there are piles of fruit and vegetables \u2014 and brief, high-pitched pandemonium whenever a mouse bolts from one of them.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>Murals add further colour. Ces\u00e1ria \u00c9vora, Cape Verde\u2019s most famous morna singer, born in Mindelo, looms over Pra\u00e7a Dom Lu\u00eds, her image covering the side of the library. But there\u2019s street art everywhere here \u2014 piano keys and musical notes climb up to the rooftops, faces smile from shopfronts, sea creatures swim across rendered walls.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:image {\"id\":2759} -->\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image\"><img decoding=\"async\" width=\"1707\" height=\"2560\" src=\"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-3-scaled.jpeg\" alt=\"Man wearing headphones walks in front of a brightly painted yellow building with shutters\" class=\"wp-image-2759\" srcset=\"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-3-scaled.jpeg 1707w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-3-200x300.jpeg 200w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-3-683x1024.jpeg 683w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-3-768x1152.jpeg 768w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-3-1024x1536.jpeg 1024w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-3-1365x2048.jpeg 1365w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1707px) 100vw, 1707px\" \/><figcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">The port town of Mindelo is known for its brightly painted streets and bustling atmosphere.PHOTOGRAPH BY JUSTIN FOULKES<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<!-- \/wp:image -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>It\u2019s a vibrant introduction. But, after a night in Mindelo, I\u2019m up early the next morning to make the short ferry hop over to Santo Ant\u00e3o to start following the island\u2019s less-explored trails. The boat docks and a taxi takes me to the east coast settlement of Pombas, following a bleak road sawn through desiccated terrain. As soon as I start inland, on a five-mile hike along the now dry Ribeira do Pa\u00fal, the world erupts into technicolour. The valley is Cape Verde at its greenest, overspilling with sugarcane and bananas, manioc and yams, dragonflies and egrets. Nowhere is flat by nature \u2014 it\u2019s all angles, outcrops, rock ribs and ridges \u2014 but somehow villages cling on.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>The trail through the valley to the ridge-top hamlet of Pico de Ant\u00f3nia is all up, but I enjoy the climb, following a quiet road at first, which weaves from the ocean and up into the hills. Soon, in the dry riverbed to the side, I pass a man with muscles like an Ancient Greek hero, who\u2019s sifting pozzolana (volcanic ash) to be used for cement-making. Another is busy cracking fresh almonds with a pick \u2014 he hands me a tiny nut as I go by. Then, as I swap roads for trails, I see farmers bent double on the edges of stone-walled terraces, pulling up pungent spring onions. As I venture deeper up the valley, it begins to resemble a living Machu Picchu, with stepped fields rising higher and higher up the hulking peaks.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>As I\u2019m looking up at all this, a lady skips easily down the slope towards me. Red scarf wrapped around her head, Jesus gazing out from the front of her T-shirt, she shouts her name, Alcinda Fonceca, entreats me to stop at her cafe when I reach it, then dashes off again. This dedication to touting for business on steep mountain paths deserves reward, I think. So when, 20 minutes later, I finally arrive at Alcinda\u2019s place \u2014 one of a handful of precipitous houses that makes up Pico de Ant\u00f3nia \u2014 I order a coffee on her veranda. From here, bony shoulders of land shrug upward, while terraces cascade below. Alcinda motions across the valley to point out the coffee bushes where the beans in my brew came from.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:image {\"id\":2756} -->\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image\"><img decoding=\"async\" width=\"1656\" height=\"2560\" src=\"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-scaled.jpeg\" alt=\"Person standing against a wall holding a bowl of coffee beans in plastic bags, wearing a chef apron\" class=\"wp-image-2756\" srcset=\"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-scaled.jpeg 1656w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-194x300.jpeg 194w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-662x1024.jpeg 662w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-768x1187.jpeg 768w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-994x1536.jpeg 994w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-1325x2048.jpeg 1325w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1656px) 100vw, 1656px\" \/><figcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Within the Pico da Ant\u00f3nia hamlet, chef-owners can be found serving coffee sourced from the valley&#8217;s own coffee bushes down below.PHOTOGRAPH BY JUSTIN FOULKES<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<!-- \/wp:image -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>My walk finishes at O Curral, a barn-cum-bar in the village of Ch\u00e3 de Jo\u00e3o Vaz. Here, where most of what\u2019s sold comes from the owners\u2019 fields. This includes homemade juice, cheese and&nbsp;<em>grogue<\/em>&nbsp;(rum distilled from sugarcane). The latter has been produced on the islands since the Portuguese first arrived and is now Cape Verde\u2019s national drink. Most of the country\u2019s grogue comes from Santo Ant\u00e3o, with the best said to originate in the town of Pa\u00fal. It\u2019s only mid-afternoon but, with the sweet scent of cut cane floating on the breeze, it seems rude not to try one \u2014 especially at 150 escudos (\u00a31.15) a slug. With the mercury hovering around 26C all year, hiking in Cape Verde is thirsty work \u2014 made all the harder by strong and consistent wind and sun. I sip the clear liquid, which is surprisingly smooth but strong as iron; my head immediately swims.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>That evening, in Ponta do Sol, I try it again. The old town, sprawling on a peninsula at the island\u2019s northern tip, has a handful of bars dotted along its wide, cobbled streets; I\u2019ve bagged a table at Cantinho da M\u00fasica, where owner Jaqueline Santos opens her roof terrace to a lucky few.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>I order a glass of&nbsp;<em>xtomperod<\/em>&nbsp;(<em>grogue<\/em>&nbsp;mixed with&nbsp;<em>pontche<\/em>, a honey liqueur) but there\u2019s no food menu to choose from; only one dish is served at each sitting, and tonight it\u2019s grilled fish with fried cassava, rice and beans. This is accompanied by a man with a guitar playing soulfully in the corner. He\u2019s built like a bear (he\u2019s the local sports coach, I learn) but sings like a seraph. Everything \u2014 food, drink, vibe \u2014 is so inviting that I find myself joining the singalong despite not knowing the words.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>Reyder dos Santos notices my efforts. A local hiking guide joining his French clients at the cafe, he tries to give me the general gist. \u201cThe song is about a woman selling fish,\u201d he says, \u201cbut also much more \u2014 it\u2019s a symbolic thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>\u201cMusic is so important to us; it\u2019s like what you eat,\u201d Reyder continues. \u201cAnd this island, it\u2019s music, food, mountains more than materialistic things. I left to study overseas but always wanted to come back. My heart will always be here.\u201d<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>The very harshness of the land seems to engender a deeper connection to it; the emotional push-pull of sodade. I sip my xtomperod and keep singing.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:image {\"id\":2761} -->\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1707\" height=\"2560\" src=\"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-5-scaled.jpeg\" alt=\"Farmers pulling up spring onions on steep stoned slopes\" class=\"wp-image-2761\" srcset=\"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-5-scaled.jpeg 1707w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-5-200x300.jpeg 200w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-5-683x1024.jpeg 683w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-5-768x1152.jpeg 768w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-5-1024x1536.jpeg 1024w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-5-1365x2048.jpeg 1365w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1707px) 100vw, 1707px\" \/><figcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Farming in the valley is no easy task, having to work stone terraces on the steep slopes.PHOTOGRAPH BY JUSTIN FOULKES<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<!-- \/wp:image -->\n\n<!-- wp:heading -->\n<h2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">Up in the air<\/h2>\n<!-- \/wp:heading -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>Aside from music, walking is the best chance an outsider has of sensing this deeper connection on Santo Ant\u00e3o. \u201cWe love to trek,\u201d confirms Herminia Ramos, a teacher from Pombas whom I get chatting with in town. \u201cAlthough sometimes it\u2019s the only way to get around. There are still villages that have no roads.\u201d Some of her students walk two hours to school and back each day, she tells me. Now, the trails used by locals for centuries are drawing handfuls of hikers like me.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>I\u2019m staying in Ponta do Sol at B&amp;B Cora\u00e7\u00e3o, built from local stone by Belgian expats Wim and Hilde Van Belle-Van Gelder. My room has a balcony looking across an abandoned runway to the ocean. Since the airstrip closed following a crash in 1999, a ferry has been the only way to reach Santo Ant\u00e3o \u2014 although there are plans to open a new airport west of Porto Novo in the hope of bringing more tourists.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>Today\u2019s nine-mile hike is to the fishing village of Cruzinha, west along the coast. I start from Ponta do Sol\u2019s main square, with its yolk-yellow town hall, whitewashed church and waving palm trees, then begin to hike the steep path out of town. The route snaking ahead is clear, solid and substantial \u2014 wide enough for mules. Yet it seems an impossibility, somehow snicked into the gravity-defying cliffs that plunge in the distance towards the frothing ocean far below.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>Before too long, I spy the cliff-clinging village of Fontainhas, a jelly-bean-hued cluster of houses balanced on a perilous spine, jutting high above the deep valley\u2019s folds and lush terraces. Herminia had told me it has \u201cone of the most beautiful views in the world\u201d, and I can see what she means. The authorities would also concur: a board in the village square announces big plans for Fontainhas, including improved road access and the safeguarding of its local heritage. I stroll through the village and pray that the former doesn\u2019t impinge upon the latter \u2014 although you can\u2019t begrudge the residents for wanting an easier life.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>It\u2019s a stiff climb up to the col separating this coastal valley from the next, and I arrive to find a fragile blade of rock that seems in danger of being felled by the wind. The snaking descent from here to the isolated hamlet of Corvo, via a cobbled trail, is punctuated by the 14 Stations of the Cross, depicting the events of Jesus\u2019s journey to crucifixion. I note each one as I go, but mostly stare out to sea. Wim, at B&amp;B Cora\u00e7\u00e3o, had told me to keep an eye out for turtles, dolphins and whales: \u201cAll different whales. If you see a \u2018<em>pschew<\/em>!\u2019, you\u2019ve seen whales,\u201d he\u2019d said, imitating the sound of a spout. I stare hard. There\u2019s a brown shape that might be a turtle \u2014 loggerheads, in particular, frequent these waters \u2014 but the sea is like a herd of white horses, making anything else hard to discern.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>A little further on, I stumble into Aranhas. The name means \u2018spider\u2019 \u2014 apt for this now-abandoned village, given over to insects, milkweed and Iago sparrows. The ruined houses, some still standing, some slumped and spewed, are blending into the surrounding valley. Incredibly, amid this formidable landscape of rumpled rock, I can still make out the former agricultural terraces, likely unfarmed for decades but enduring still.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:heading -->\n<h2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">Waiting for the rain<\/h2>\n<!-- \/wp:heading -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>My final walk, two days later, is an eight-mile loop along the Ribeira das Patas, on the island\u2019s southeast coast. Early-morning sun is sneaking into the wide valley\u2019s dark, dry fissures as I stare at the fearsome Bordeira do Norte, a seemingly impenetrable wall of rock. But, somehow, there\u2019s a track, and I\u2019m soon zigzagging up sheer slopes of volcanic sand and stone, inching along dizzying precipices. The valley spreads below, the sea is lost to the haze beyond. To one side, clouds surge over the Alto Mira pass like a tidal wave; to the other, the path scrapes across rock streaked with shades of orange. It\u2019s only thanks to a set of figures on the trail in the distance \u2014 farmers leading donkeys \u2014 that I can make out which way I\u2019m supposed to go.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>The route continues past formations of granular pumice stone, through a small canyon and into a scattered community, where a few souls work parched terraces growing beans and corn. It\u2019s here I meet Juan Bautista, who\u2019s tending to his donkeys: one brays a welcome, another rolls gleefully in the dust. Juan is keen to chat and, although I don\u2019t understand his Kriolu, he conveys a little about his life. He shows me his simple house, the herbs he brews into tea and the corn he\u2019s harvested. As he speaks, two kittens chase wind-blown husks in the yard. These are Juan\u2019s day-to-day companions. Through snatched words, sign language and deduction, I work out his family, including three children, live elsewhere on the islands.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:image {\"id\":2757} -->\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1707\" height=\"2560\" src=\"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-1-scaled.jpeg\" alt=\"Hiker walking on rocky terrain surrounded by mountain peaks and hazy mist\" class=\"wp-image-2757\" srcset=\"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-1-scaled.jpeg 1707w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-1-200x300.jpeg 200w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-1-683x1024.jpeg 683w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-1-768x1152.jpeg 768w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-1-1024x1536.jpeg 1024w, https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/image-1-1365x2048.jpeg 1365w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1707px) 100vw, 1707px\" \/><figcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Views over the Patas Valley and surrounding peaks become lost in the haze upon climbing the Bordeira do Norte cliff face.PHOTOGRAPH BY JUSTIN FOULKES<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<!-- \/wp:image -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>This lunar-like landscape of crusted lava flows and dry riverbeds, with views across to 6,493ft Tope de Coroa, Santo Ant\u00e3o\u2019s highest peak, makes good hiking country. But life here can be harsh. The islands of Cape Verde can go for very long stretches without rain. In the 1940s, around 45,000 people \u2014 equivalent to the entire population of Santo Ant\u00e3o today \u2014 died as a result of drought; thousands more were driven to emigrate. A classic of Cape Verdean literature, Manuel Lopes\u2019s 1960 novel&nbsp;<em>Os Flagelados do Vento Leste<\/em>&nbsp;(\u2018The Victims of the East Wind\u2019), describes the struggle of surviving in this very valley when the rains don\u2019t come. Lopes, who lived in Ribeira das Patas for some time, wrote about the steep, hairpin path along which I\u2019m hiking, which connects the uplands to the valley; the treacherous route was heavily used by locals during the famine-ravaged years.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>I leave Juan and climb to the dizzying viewpoint, with its wide-angle view over the Patas valley, where dark volcanic crags police arid river channels that run waterless toward the sea. I then descend via that very path, slaloming down the face of the Bordeira do Norte. To walk it now, guesthouse and cold Strela beer waiting below, is thrilling. To trudge along it daily to watch over crops that won\u2019t grow is unthinkable.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>The next morning, I catch the ferry back to Mindelo for one last night in Cape Verde \u2014 and the relative cosmopolitanism of the town feels almost bewildering after my last few days spent hiking in the wild. As I nurse a final&nbsp;<em>grogue<\/em>&nbsp;at La Sc\u00e8ne M, a cool courtyard music bar twinkling with fairy-lights, my mind drifts back to Juan Bautista high up on his plateau; I hope the rains will be good this year.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>On the bar\u2019s low stage, a lady steps out and begins to sing a slow, haunting tune. It sounds filled with love and loss, though, of course, I don\u2019t know any of the words. But maybe that\u2019s as it should be \u2013 it\u2019s something only a Cape Verdean can truly understand.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:embed {\"url\":\"https:\/\/9ebb20bf4b39e0010db13506e705fa6c.safeframe.googlesyndication.com\/safeframe\/1-0-40\/html\/container.html\"} -->\n<figure class=\"wp-block-embed\"><div class=\"wp-block-embed__wrapper\">\nhttps:\/\/9ebb20bf4b39e0010db13506e705fa6c.safeframe.googlesyndication.com\/safeframe\/1-0-40\/html\/container.html\n<\/div><\/figure>\n<!-- \/wp:embed -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p><strong>Getting there &amp; around:<\/strong><br>The nearest airport to Santo Ant\u00e3o is on Cape Verde\u2019s S\u00e3o Vicente island.&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/www.flytap.com\/en-gb\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">TAP Air Portugal<\/a>&nbsp;flies there from London or Manchester via Lisbon. The average flight time is 6 hours and 30 minutes. The ferry between Mindelo (S\u00e3o Vicente) and Port Novo (Santo Ant\u00e3o) takes one hour. Both islands can be explored on foot. For longer journeys, use taxis or alugueres (shared minibuses), which leave when full and can be flagged down on the roadside.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p><strong>When to go:<\/strong><br>Cape Verde is warm year-round, with average temperatures consistently ranging from 24 to 30C. The wind is strongest November to March; the bruma seca \u2014 when Saharan winds can cause a sandy mist \u2014 is most likely January to February. The climate is very dry, with only a short monsoon season from August to October.<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\n\n<!-- wp:paragraph -->\n<p>Source: National Geographic<\/p>\n<!-- \/wp:paragraph -->\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-3cd44a9 e-flex e-con-boxed e-con e-parent\" data-id=\"3cd44a9\" data-element_type=\"container\" data-settings=\"{&quot;content_width&quot;:&quot;boxed&quot;}\" data-core-v316-plus=\"true\">\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"e-con-inner\">\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>On Santo Ant\u00e3o, silence can strike like a blow. One minute you can be bouncing in the back of a growling pick-up, en route to hike the island\u2019s serrated hills, the next, you\u2019ve been deposited at the foot of a cliff, the taxi has faded from earshot and the world, and all its climatic fury, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"set","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"powered_cache_disable_cache":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2755","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2755","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2755"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2755\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2773,"href":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2755\/revisions\/2773"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2755"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2755"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/santoantaotours.cv\/trekking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2755"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}