Faial was my last island of the grand adventure. Part of the “triangle islands,” it is very close to Pico – you can see its tall peak very easily from most of the island – and also near Sao Jorge. Horta, the main town, is fairly developed and has a strong maritime and migratory history in the western world, including a 100+ year whale hunting history, a stopover site for the first transatlantic flight, and a volcanic eruption that forced many islanders to migrate to the US and Canada. Of course, Faial also had awesome nature and outdoor adventures, though my 5 days on the island featured some less-than-ideal weather, which is typical for the islands but still got in the way a bit. Exhaustion also started hitting me on this island, after a long period of daily exploration and adventures. Still, Faial showed me a great time while helping me feel ready for my return home. I’ll start with my last morning in Flores.
Tuesday, 9/2/25
I really lucked out with the weather in Flores, because on my last morning it was once again very cloudy with some on-and-off rainstorms. I lingered in Faja Grande for the morning, getting coffee at the café and observing a funeral walking procession down the street. I drove back to Santa Cruz, once again having to go slow through the thick clouds, but this time feeling slightly more confident. I had about an hour and a half to kill in town, so I checked out the Flores museum and learned a little about the history of the island, which entailed a lot of violence and shipwrecks. I notice that there don’t seem to be indigenous people here; the Europeans discovered the islands in the 15th Century and colonized them without displacing any natives.
I took in a final view of the coast by the natural pools to eat my PB&J (I am so sick of them), got gas, and returned the car at the tiny airport before waiting for my 35 minute flight to Horta, Faial; a half-filled plane with a ride marked by lots of ear popping from the canyoning stress still bothering me a little. I picked up the next car, a Nissan Micro, and drove the 15 minutes to my hostel in downtown Horta, a block from the water. The woman checking me in didn’t speak English, she was waiting for her son to return, but we spoke to each other in broken French and I managed to settle in. I saw my friend Johanna from the Flores hostel, but otherwise the hostel was pretty sparse, and I appeared to have a 5-bed room to myself.
I hungrily roamed the streets for a snack and got some Sao Jorge cheese (Sao Jorge island nearby is known for its cheese, apparently) and crackers, then ate back in the hostel while I chatted with the hostel worker in English and was able to negotiate doing my laundry (one load for a whopping 20 euros, but convenient). I’m down to my last pair of underwear so it was essential.
Johanna and I went to find food together, landing on a popular spot called Peter Sport Café a 15-minute walk away, known for its maritime décor and gin. I was able to finally eat a salad and some beet hummus, then we walked back and called it a night. The empty hostel room is a treat and a little strange, and I am grateful for it.
Wednesday, 9/3/25
As I settle into another new place and shake off the discomfort from being somewhere unfamiliar, Faial island and the town of Horta, I’m reeling from yet another big adventurous day. It started with a whale watching expedition! I arrived at the base where the researchers gave the group a briefing and talked about what we might see; many of the big species were not around due to migratory patterns, but there were many others in the area. The boat was like the little one in Corvo, just as bumpy and lots of splashing, and a little bit of almost seasick when we stopped. It was about 3 and a half hours on the boat in total. Morning spotters said the whales were far away near Pico that morning, so we had to travel quite a distance in the quick boats. Anyways, I saw a couple of sperm whales! And some other smaller whales that look like dolphins but with a flatter head. It was really cool learning about them; and the guides also put a device in the water so we could hear the clicking of echolocation sounds. Very cool! I did get a little zonked out on the ride back, letting my eyes close a bit. The weather was cloudy and it was a long time to be out on the water in one seated position.
I walked back to the hostel for lunch/leftovers and to deal with my still-wet laundry from the night before, as the machine did not dry it at all despite me paying 20 euros for a wash and dry. I felt ripped off since the guy didn’t tell me about the broken settings. And his mother moved a lot of my drying things into a damp pile on a chair, it was all just annoying, but I figured it out and tonight I finally have clean clothes again, though I think some of it is probably still a little bit damp. Oh well. I was also crabby because someone ate some of my fancy cheeses from the fridge. It’s a bit of a weird hostel experience, and tonight there’s another woman in my room who is not especially chatty, but that’s fine, the room is big.
Anyway, I salvaged the day and brought my mood back up by driving up to the caldera. The sun was shining now with great views of nearby Pico island, boasting the tallest peak in Portugal. I did the caldera hike, which was an exposed 4.5 mile loop around the lush caldera’s rim, with views of the entire island and ocean. It was amazing, not crowded or too hot, not too challenging, just lovely, and just 2.5 hours as the sign said. On the drive back down, I stopped at a random park I had read about and it was lovely, a beautiful forest with golden hour light streaming through the tall dark trees. No one else was there and it felt nice to be a little isolated.
Back to the hostel, and I changed and went straight to dinner, a closeby pizza restaurant which was hot and carby and perfect. A little stroll by the water with the pink sunset over the town, sitting and writing on the water edge, and it was an excellent moment to cap off a great day.
Thursday, 9/4/25
Today’s adventure was exploring Pico island, the larger, volcanic island near Faial with a large pointy mountain visible from here in Horta – the tallest peak in Portugal. I didn’t sleep great because my roommate’s phone kept going off loudly, and she wasn’t especially friendly. But I got up nice and early, left at 7am in the dark, and walked to the ferry terminal for the half hour journey to Pico. The ferry was easy and smooth, a real ferry boat this time that had some cars on it. I had an hour to kill in the little port town of Madalena, so I got coffee in the little station café and walked a bit, before meeting my tour at their office across the street. It was just me and a couple in their 50s from London, along with our young guide Leonardo. We took a van, me in the front seat, and spent the next 8 hours slowly making our way all over the island. Pico was cool and different from the other islands, this one distinctly volcanic with black jagged rocks all along the coast. It is also known for its wine, which grows low to the ground with ocean water spraying over the vines. We explored coastal views and learned about the unique architecture and UNESCO designation. It was nice to have people to talk to and someone to ask about the islands, learning things like how there are mostly the same laws as Portugal but some different ones, very little crime and very little use for the police, and mayoral village elections every two years.
We stopped at a whaling museum (and a factory that we chose not to go in to see the gruesome photos). The museum started with a video from 1970 about how people on Pico would hunt and kill the giant sperm whales – the same ones I saw whale watching yesterday. It was terrible, but also a good and educational video. They did only kill about one per week and used every part of the animal. They stopped in 1987 (other islands stopped in 1984). Gross. The museum also had some of the tools, like the sharp harpoon, and a scrimshaw section which was art and carving on the bones, which reminded me of my time spent organizing the U.S. Ivory Crush in 2015.
We had a lovely lunch buffet where the restaurant made me two veggie burger patties, and I had two glasses of wine. Later that afternoon we went to a wine tasting. I liked the white, did not like the rose, and thought the red was just alright. They were grapes I had never heard of before. I was pretty tipsy by that point. The guide dropped me off at a restaurant a 15 minute walk from the port with interesting architecture. I walked back via the small town; it was drizzling and windy now and had become a little uncomfortable outside. I got back on the ferry and made it back, exhausted but not excited to chill in the hostel with the busybody owner still cleaning and the roommate smoking on the terrace with the door open. I ate my leftover pizza and went for a stroll in the rain, finally giving in and getting a little more comfy for an early bedtime.
I’m in a bit of a mood this evening, perhaps ready for the trip to come to an end soon, I’m not sure. Everything is amazing and I know I’ll look back on these moments very fondly, but right now I’m just a little meh. Not every moment of a long trip can be incredible. And I’ve had many incredible moments so far! I’m grateful to be here. Tomorrow’s plan is a slow morning, check out the weather and hope the rain isn’t too bad, and then some unstructured exploring and hopefully some rest in the hostel. I’ve got two full days left and not much more to check off my list, so a little rain will be ok, I hope. We shall see!
Friday, 9/5/2025
Today was rainy and I let myself take a tired break. I watched lots of Netflix in bed and it was quiet and snoozy. I also walked around town a lot. In the morning before the rain started in earnest I drove up Monte da Guia to look at a pretty view of the town and see the Porto Pim sand beach, and walked around that side of town, lingering at a restaurant where a man solo sailed around the world twice and documented his journey on a big map. I checked out the Scrimshaw museum, above the Peter Sport Café, which was really fascinating and horrific, and the nice guide told me a lot about how they offered the art as a way to keep the indentured whalers from mutiny. I went to the Horta Museum which was just ok, but I liked learning about the first transatlantic flight that passed through Horta from Rockaway Beach in 1919. I ate a nice lunch at the burger place in the market near the hostel, after waiting on a long line. I had a nice veggie risotto dinner at Oceanic restaurant, a beer garden vibe outside in the covered seating. I got gelato and strolled the waterfront more in between rain bursts. After 2 weeks I’m less in awe of everything that happens, I notice. My body and mind are tired. I have a different roommate now who is nicer than the last one, a German girl, but she mentioned someone in her family died and she may cut her trip short. Tomorrow the weather is supposed to be good again, hooray! It made today’s “rest” feel earned and worth it. It’ll be my last day of adventure on this wild ride!
Saturday, 9/6/25
It is my last full day of what has felt like a long trip. I satisfied my need for a final adventure thanks to decent weather, and while I’m still tired and body parts are aching, I’m satiated and travel-happy.
I started early, and after a quick coffee at the bakery I drove about a half hour to the other side of the island to the Capelinhos volcano area, which is new land that was created after a 13-month volcano eruption in 1957-58 that forced many Faial residents to emigrate to the United States, Canada, and Brazil. I was the only person there when I arrived, a small dot in a vast dark landscape. The interpretive center under the lighthouse didn’t open til 10, over an hour away, so I started the short hike in the area, which started with a steep climb up to get a better view of the landscape. It was extremely windy, and I second guessed whether I should continue, but kept going to the viewpoint. I followed the trail a little further into the coastal abyss, but soon the wind started whipping up the thick dark sand, making little traveling tornadoes that were difficult to traverse. I found myself turning around a lot, waiting for the wind storms to pass, and finally decided it wasn’t wise to keep going. I sped back down the sandy cliff, drove down a few minutes to look at some natural pools and volcanic coast lines, then headed back for the volcanic museum, some other people around now. It was very interesting to learn about volcanoes and the Azores, and how this eruption happened and its impact on the island and migration patterns. The lighthouse climb was closed due to wind, so I moved along from the area.
Next, I stopped at a closeby artist area that had a sign, where there were paintings and handicrafts from local artists on sale; a nice different short stop. I navigated to a nearby park that showed up on Google, with cute forested paths, and I ran into a pen of deer with wagging tails, and outside the pen a random peacock walking around. I ate at a picnic table, finishing off some of my snacks like a wedge of Sao Jorge cheese and crackers, with cute birds stalking me for crumbs.
Next stop was a hike, which was an official island hike with a number and everything, but less popular and not really on AllTrails. I don’t know if Google did me dirty or if the trailhead was just really that isolated, but suffice it to say, I did not make it to the hike. The road became a one-lane dirt/rock combination up a steep hill in isolated farmland, and my little car with barely any pickup and bad tires just wasn’t having it. I eventually u-turned and made it back to a main road, passing through a town on the north side of the island.
Bummer my hiking was over now, but I drove the short distance to my next stop, the Varadouro swimming area. This one was a roaring success! As I drove down to the coast, all of a sudden I was in a crowded beach town, with people eating outside at a café, barbecuing, and enjoying themselves. I changed in the bathroom/shower stalls, then walked down to the natural pool area. There was a lifeguard in one spot, watching a nutty man in an area with strong waves work hard to keep himself steady. Most people opted for a protected nook, with a gated opening to the sea that splashed in salty waves periodically. It was cool water and lovely for a quick dip, and nice to relax on the concrete in the sun after. I changed and headed back to Horta, stopping at the Porto Pim main beach in town with black sand, calm ocean water, and some algae lining the shore. Lots of people were laying out today but it was not crowded, and some people were swimming. I stayed out for a while, reading and soaking in the last bits of warm summer sun.
I headed back to the hostel for a shower and re-pack/organize, then off to an early 6pm dinner at the same place as last night. I finished my book as I enjoyed a chicken sandwich and fries and some beers, got ice cream on the walk back, and strolled back through the cool air enjoying the final sunset over the water.
I’m starting to get nostalgic about my trip, even though I know there were difficult parts about it, mostly due to some grumpy moods or occasional loneliness, which in a two-week trip is probably unavoidable. Still, the balance was good, and there are things about this trip – the nature; the adventure – that are going to stay with me forever. I don’t know that this trip solved all my woes, but it gave me a really good way to live for a while. I am ready for it to end, which is something I don’t always feel after a long trip. But I’m looking forward to getting back to my comfort zone and routine, and to catching up with my people and my city. I’m not sure what I’ll say about this trip and how I’ll summarize it; so much happened. Perhaps the words and the photos will come to me in a more succinct way during tomorrow’s long travel day. We’ll see. There’s still a day left before I’m back home; time enough to transition.
Sunday 9/7/25
The long travel day is underway, a slow morning with a passing rain storm limited my options in Faial, but I drove to another beach and back up the Guia view, and was even treated to a rainbow to say goodbye. As I wait in the first airport in Horta before my 3 hour layover in Ponta Delgada, my main project is to write postcards, but I’m still struggling to know how to summarize this trip. Perhaps I’ll reflect on the plane.
Last year, my work took us to a public speaking training, led by a nonprofit executive who we all knew. One of the things he taught us was to always “land the plane,” which meant to end the story when it was time to end it, to not trail off, and finish with some confidence. My team always jokes about “landing the plane” now whenever we are telling stories or rambling on for too long, though it’s also really good advice. And so, as I gaze out the window at one of my last views of the Azores, waiting for the plane that’ll take me home and land in New York in a few hours, I’ll leave it at this: the Azores are a magical paradise ripe with wild adventures, and I’m so grateful I got to experience this incredible place.
travels.of.tara 