Adventures of a Wandering Thirtysomething

We made it to the Azores!

Well, not without some very minor missteps and our lives momentarily flashing before our eyes. But that’s sort of how we roll.

Our flight to Ponta Delgada on the biggest island, Sao Miguel, was without incident. Uncomfortable as all get out, but the flight was a fast five hours. With several hours to just hang out until our puddle jumper flight to the island of Pico, we headed into town to find everything completely locked up and dead. Apparently, it was the Festival of the Christ of Miracles – a major holiday - and nothing, and I mean nothing, was open. We walked through the deserted streets in the rain, stopped for a quick bite at the only open café we could find, then decided we were tired of being drowned rats and headed back to the airport to dry out.

The moment I saw the prop plane to take us out to Pico, I knew we might be in for it. The weather was less than ideal for a prop plane. Huge wind gusts and pouring rain usually don’t bode well. We took off without much incident, but once in the air the turbulence made for a roller coaster ride. And then came the landing. As we made our approach, we hit a dead pocket of air and the plane plummeted down to the runway. We thought the pilot might go back up and take another pass at landing, but no, he kept right on heading down, landing us on one wheel and skidding along the runway keeled to one side until he finally got control and got the other side to come down. Thankful to be alive and not have crashed right into the ocean, the entire plane erupted into cheering and clapping. Dear God, we made it!

Thankful to get off that damn plane, we headed into the airport and waited for our bags. No bags. Crap. I quickly asked an agent if there were more bags. She asked to look at my ticket and upon a quick glance said, “This is Terceira. You’re going to Pico. You weren’t supposed to get off the plane.” You have got to be kidding me! Thankfully, the death plane was still on the ground, so we ran back out and boarded for our ride to Pico. Totally embarrassed by our stupid deplaning move, I just smiled at everyone we passed and said, “Dumb Americans. Wrong island.” Each agent smiled graciously and told us it was ok, although I’m sure they agreed…how dumb, these Americans.

And so back on the death plane we rode. More turbulence. Thankfully, a less dramatic landing, though no less heart stopping between the wind, pounding rain, and miniscule landing strip on the edge of the ocean. Never have I been so happy to be on the ground.

Once we were out of the airport, however, I have never felt a death-defying experience was so worth it. Even through the rain and clouds, Pico is stunning. As we drove the narrow, winding roads along the rocky shore dotted with beautifully kept houses, each growing vines of wine grapes and gardens of fresh produce, I instantly relaxed. Paradise.

Our eco-resort accommodations maintained that same sense of paradise with incredible views of the ocean, the rocky cliffs and garden-filled grounds. We lucked out by getting the best room at the place with complete privacy and views from every window out onto the ocean.

The following day, the rain subsided, the wind died down and we went on our first major Azores outing: whale watching.

Pico is the top whale-watching spot in the Azores, having been a major site of whaling – largely harvesting sperm whales - up until the mid-1980s. The same experts who spotted whales for the whaling industry now use their expertise to spot them for whale watching expeditions.

With just 10 of us on board a military-style raft, we headed out into the ocean toward the first pod of fin whales. But our first encounter went awry when the choppy waters and rough ride sent one of our more senior passengers to the hospital for a back injury when our boat hit a wave particularly hard and jarred her back. Trying desperately hard not to be a total a-hole, I feigned empathy and just prayed that I could be kind and understanding if this meant the expedition was over and we wouldn’t be whale-watching after all. I still feel guilt over thinking such selfish thoughts.

Thankfully, after we carted her back to shore, loaded her up on a stretcher and sent her off to the hospital, our guides were still totally game for heading back out on the water to catch some whale sightings. YES!!!! We hopped back in our seats and headed out again. Everyone’s backs and necks be damned – we were going to see whales!

In our first encounter we came upon two sperm whales hanging out at the surface to store up oxygen before their dive down to hunt for food. Though we could easily make out their large bodies as they grazed the surface of the water and let us know their location with each breath of their blowholes, it was when they began their dive that we could really see the full motion of their large bodies arch up into a dive and then down into the water with their tails like a wave goodbye before they descended for nearly an hour to locate food.

We continued on, spotting a minke whale swimming quickly through the water. Well, Matt saw it. My untrained eyes just saw water, but I guess I’ll believe it was actually there since our guide said it was. And then we moved on to a pod of dolphins, catching waves and using the momentum of the waves to propel them. Our final sighting of the day was a lone sperm whale, just swimming along near the surface, clearly in no rush and with no major agenda.

As it always is when I get to encounter wildlife up-close and in its natural habitat, the experience was pure heaven for me. Being out on the open water, though battling a touch of seasickness and soaked from head to toe in salt water spray, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. These are the travel moments I’ll never get enough of.

Since nothing else could top our whale watching experience that day, we headed back to the resort for the afternoon to soak in some sun, some nature and the incredible ocean views. With nary a soul in sight, we pretended we had the entire island to ourselves and finally relaxed into vacation mode.

We could definitely get used to the Azorean life.