Cabo Verde    DIARY  3

        From Diary 2, I now explore the fertile eastern Sao Nicolau.
Day 5. Hoping for a short and dull day (and thereby an easy evening), I head for the trail from Ribeira Brava to Cachaco. It is in the central highlands, and like the rest of the island, it is covered in a mist the entire day.

I actually learn from my car-pusher, whom I meet later, the flight today have been cancelled. The island have two weekly flight connections, one for each other island. I sure hope mine will fly! I doubt the Monday/Friday 13 hour ferry will get me there in time. In the evening, I get a visit from the Austrian, who have tried to lock him selves into my apartment three times. He promised yesterday, it would be the last, as he was leaving.But now, he is stock here, and do it once more. And he won't make it to his Vienna flight. 

Due to the mist, I notice some other things along the road. And I meet three cows on this, the biggest road on the island. I park a bit out of Ribeira Brava, and start the rather steep ascent up towards Cachaco. The first half is through tiny farms, growing corn and small beans.

Due to the mist, the narrow canyon is not as impressive, I guess, but it is a nice walk, although hard. The road is lined on both sides by stone walls, and they are teaming with real shy skinks. A lava-wall dominates this side of the canyon, and from one angle, it is a real narrow and high needle.

As in so many other places, I hear a lot of guinea fouls, and I get a glimpse from time to time. A few sparrows are hiding from the tiny falcon, and I see a single large raven. Here are quite some plants, but due to the farming, I suspect most are invasive.

I make a tea-biscuit break, just before I reach Cachaco, and then do the other alley of the tiny village. It is just as quiet as yesterday, and I head back down the road. I spot a single, but real large Baobab tree in a garden, bearing many fruits.

I return to Ribeira Brava, which is the closest I have seen to a town on this island. Well as they looked in the 1700'th in Portugal. I do several loops in the old centre, and even manages to find the café, which sell coffee here. It is not found along the little square, but at the bone dry river.

One shop I peak into, have an old mechanic scale, and time have really stood still here. I would actually had expected some tourists here, but no sign at all. It sure have to potential, but no hotels and bars.

I head up towards the northern corner of the island, and park the car at the little village I ended up in yesterday; Estancia de Bras. The copplestone road continues for some time, allied with bone dry fields, but I ditch the car, and start walking towards Ribeira Funda, the most northern point of on the island.

At first, it is along a few scattered farms with mainly hens, then a few goats are tied up on the rocky fields, making a living on the few strains of yellow grass, I guess. Some parts of the road are gravel, but still aliened with two stone walls.

I get closer to the sea, although it is way down. I pass a child's toy-car, which feels a bit eerie, out here in the remote, desolated area. The road have a few stretches, made up by bedrock and real narrow, unfitted for any car. Then it widens again, and look like any other copplestone road on the island.

That changes, when it start gaining altitude. It winds it way up and down some gorges, meeting the sea. It is a strange place, and can best be describes as "The Chinese Wall meets Machu Picchu, added a dash of the moon.

The last 200 metres is downwards 100 meters, and I figure, I can see enough from up here. Especially as the mist comes in hard from the sea. On the other side of this huge gorge, I can see a few abandon huts, and I leave it at that, and returns.

On the long way back, I finally find flowers on the endemic Cynanchum daltonii. I pass an area with quite some dragontrees, but it turns out to be, where I earlier have seen them. Back in Tarrafal, I gas the car, but can't pay with my card. I get to drive into the centre and withdraw. Guess a tiny island like this does not encourage to crime.

I start working, then down to the harbour for a quick cup of coffee and a bit of shopping. The mist have not been good at my photos, and I sure hope it won't spoil my flight on Monday! At least, I have time to connect with my next flight, but a thirteen hour boat-ride does not sound appealing to me.  Day 5 HIGHLIGHTS

Day 6. I am heading for the central-south, where the coastal village of Preguiça is found. Some maps indicates there is some sort of trail heading further down the coast to Praia de Forçado, and I'll give it a go. It is once again kind of all the way around the island by the only road.

That is; The GPS actually know a shortcut, and why not? Well, because it is a real rough road at first, then a narrow trail, which head into a vertical canyon. Only the guinea fouls seems to use it these days. I see a few new plants, and return to the main road.

I pass the airport, but it is closed. Then I find the copplestone road, leading out to the coast and the little fishing village of Preguiça. Half of it is vacant, the rest just look that way. I park at the beach promenade, and find a beach, filled with broken conks.

A single man is standing on the little pier, catching sardines with a hook and line. And it actually works for him. In some tide pools, black sea urchins are numerous. The harbour is actually a beach with head-size black lava rocks.

I do a stroll around town, passing the common well with two taps. Yellow oil containers are often seen in the villages, making up for water containers. Here are only a few people, none real eager to get their photo taken. It is way more easy with the many goats, roaming the streets.

Here is a single ten square meter big shop, and the shopkeeper sell "Grogue", a home distilled alcohol, tasting most of all like tequila, and real strong.  When I done the entire village, I find the wheel-tracks towards the south, along the coast.

It is pass a gorge on my way to the south-eastern coast. It is an almost barren coastal plain. I planned to walk, as I though I had to, but I drive as long as I can. I stop at several black rock, beaches and at a lime-coloured gorge, cut-out by a river. Besides from the black basalt, here are some sort of young limestone. Some places have encased mussel shells. The tide-ponds have a few live corals, sea ouches and small fish along with a single sea-slug.

I find quite some remains of sea animals like snails, but also the sorry remains of two sea turtles. Here are only around five plant species, and botanising is quickly done. After around ten kilometres, the wheel tracks kind of vanish, and I figure, the rest of the southern island will be just alike what I have see so far.

It is a bit early to call it a day, and I swing by Ribeira Brava for a cup of coffee, lemon sponge cake and a short stroll. However, it seems like I saw it all yesterday.

I find a drivable track, leading into some real, artificial watered fertile farmland between Carvoeiros and Faja de Cima. I finally get close to some wild guinea fouls in the dry area, leading down to the button of the canyon.

Then I excite between Faja de Baixa and Faja de Cima, and start hunting for wild Dracaena caboverdeana. I spot some on a ridge, and fight my way up to them, through spiny and dry weed. When I reach them, they are on a farmers newly cleaned terraces. Well, I guess everywhere they can grow, humans can grow crops.

Home in Tarrafal, I check the ferry office. It was yet another day, dominated by mist, and the next day's forecast are alike. I consider buying a ferry ticket, just to be sure, I can leave the island, and reach my next hotel, car and the flight home. The officer tell me; the ferry broke down yesterday. I might be stock here for some time, paying for a car and hotel on an other island, and buying a new flight ticket home. My Italian host's words: "It is a prison" start to make sense.

Coffee at the harbour café, trying to get some photos with humans on. Then I get into the fenced-off commercial pier, where the larger boats are found. A smaller one have just come in, and here are quite some activity.

Home to cook and work, while I try to figure how I get home to all the problems, piling up back there. Apparently, internet is not really part of a business here, and the little I find, is in Portuguese. And details like timetable and alike are defiantly not on their pages. Day 6 HIGHLIGHTS
        Time to Diary 4 with - hopefully: The last two full days at Sao Nicolau.