Wasn’t a really good night as i couldn’t sleep due to the heat on the boat and probably because i wasn’t tired enough. I was getting off the bed every hour from 10pm to 3am and then thank God i managed to sleep. This meant that i did not wake up early either as the noise from the others having breakfast in the nearby dining room next to the kitchen was at the back of mind as i lingered and lazied in the bunk bed.
Breakfast is two pieces of toast and a tea ... but enough for me for sure as lunch & dinner are important events on the boat. Some of them even have a spuntino around 5pm as the kitchen is available any time of the day.
The morning started out with what we’re supposed to be doing out here ... basically the instrumentation was working somehow as the Spaniard figured out that the heat on the deck was creating a problem and so we took the main pulsing apparetus that creates the scsiesmic wave to the top deck right behind the bridge (the captain’s cabin) and it seemed that it was working, while the Lisbon guy managed to install the GIS software (Geographical Information System) to be able to record the exact positions of where the wceismic readings were being done. The sceismic reading trnamits a sort of shock wave to the bottom that is reflected back to the surface and read by another instrument ... and this will give you the profile of the bottom together with important information about what the bottom is made of ... usually sandy ... and the profile beneath the sand, down until the final lava layer is encountered.
We were zigzagging within and outside the port of Baia da Vitoria and the boat was only going at 4knots not to damage the equipment dragged behind as well as to ensure that readings are taken accurately.
Half way through the morning equipment failure once again ... not good. Afte rrecovering the stuff from the sea we made our way to the jetty ... probably to call it a day and a trip.
While waiting for lunch i relaxed with some reading and had another go at leisure fishing ... caught some four big ones ... sargu, zewg cervjoli u mulet ... which all went back in to enjoy their lives ... but together must have wight some 5 kilos ... so was quite a catch.
Lunch is a nice event as we dine all together and the crew are quite a jolly group of fellows ... but usually Markus and myself finish off try to guess what’s going on ... or have a conversation in English. We had soup, steak with chips, pieces of bacon and salad ... then some nice ice-cream and a coffee.
As predicted, no more work to be carried out in the afternoon and actually a discussion began whether to return to Faial tonight or tomorrow morning. I guess the captian had the last word as he’d rather sleep comfortable through the night and make a fresh return tomorrow morning ... that meant i will be back in Faial and at home mid afternoon.
Fishing boats started moving in and so we all went to have a look at their variety of fish scattered on the boat ... at one point one of the boats had a 60 Kilo swordfish snouting out of the hatch.
Did some more reading, posted yesterday’s blog, checked the mail ... and waited for the evening events ... might be an interesting outing with all the rest to some place on Terceira ... but more of that to follow shortly.
Some of the crew were off to the sandy beach ... they wanted to relax and have a drink in some pub ... not my kind of fun. The captian had come up to me and told me that the chef and himself will be going to a local village, probably joined by the others ... so there will be no official dinner tonight but there is plenty of food in the fridge to help myself at any time. Rui was going to stay on the boat while Marcus asked me if he could join me to the harbour town of Praia da Vitoria.
At around 5pm we set off the Arquipelago to the town on the shore some 2 km away and half way through we met 4 of the crew in swiming trunks sipping what seemed like Sangria at a plastic table from a beach bar ... similar what you find at Ramla il-hamra ... felt similar ... with the only difference that i would call it Ramla is-sewda as the sand was of such a dark texture that i stopped to sift it through my hands. Marcus was very prompt to give me a description of how the fine sand particles from the condensation of lava fumes as they touched the cold sea water ... thousands of years ago.
“idz zomthing i studied ... zo i should know” ... in a strong german accent. Marcus is a sweet German undergraduate student who is in his final year about to write his final paper (thesis) and even though he seems to try hard to integrate and relax ... his rooted german influence keeps him very rigid when he moves , acts and talks ... its sort of funny in a way ... but characterwise he’s very nice.
As we walked further over the dark-coloured shore we came across small pebbles, than bigger ones, until we finally got to medium sized rocks and eventually to the concrete promenade that marks the begining of the Praia da Vitoria bay.
“Wait Zu (2) minutes pleaze so I remove sand from my shoez” ... and so i looked around with my flipflops in my hands and stroking my feet against the opposite leg to shake of black sand that gave a weird sensation ... not like the golden or red sand i am used to ... that gives a summery feeling ... but this black stuff gave a dirty impression as if i had just finished doing a dirty job on a tarmaced road.
As we strolled to the town centre we came across public exercise machines that nowadays are quickly decorating leisure public areas ... similar to what we have a Qui-si-sana ... and moved past a 5-star hotel beach, then a nice beach club, a kiosk, and finally to the town.
Once we gpt there we quickly asked directions to were the specific event we were after was being held and we were immediately offered a lift there. Marcus pointed out that the people on the islands are very friends ... reminds me of what Malta must have been like some 50 to 100 years ago. This Azorean guy in his mid-50s asked us to jump into his relatively new car and drove us for 3 to 5 minutes out of the harbour town to a neighbouring time which i have no idea what’s it called. Half a km throught he main road that looked like road on the way to San Lawrenz in Gozo we could see cars parked on either side which meant we were getting closer to the epicentre of the activity. Finally we came to an abrupt stop as there was no more road to go ... as we thanked and shouted ‘obrigado’ to the kind gentlemen we closed the car doors and continues the rest of another half a km uphill to the town centre. Small caravans and kiosks could be seen on the sides as the crowd thickened and became louder. At one point we met the captain and the chef who cheerfully welcomed us while a huge oversized friend of theirs pushed a beer into our hands together with a fresh piece of bread stuffen with cooked meat and blood sausage. I could see Marcus’s disgust from his face while i tried to convince him by repeating ‘black pudding’ in a reassuring way ... but to no avail J
Consumed that, and duly returned the gesture by getting a round of beers myself, they directed further up the road not after showing us two distince white lines painted across the road parallel to each other.
‘What’s that for?’ enquired Marcus ... ‘Esta el limite ... el limite del Toro’ ... J yes you guessed right ... we were at a village feast were the bulls were allowed to run around restricted by a rope in this case ... hiiiiiiiiiyaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!
It was funny, crazy, dangerous ... and at the same time amazing, fascinating and incredible. I could see an entire town of people having fun together at the expense of the bull of course. He wasn’t harmed much except his ego yet still i could visualise anumal rights people screaming their guts off to the cruelty to which the bull was subjected. It wasn’t just 1 bull but a number of bulls in sequence to give each one of them a deserved break as running through the streets and the valley chasing people and anything that moved ... was to say the least ... exasperating, tedious, and tiring.
The first bull we came across wasn’t too close, but as it attempted to walk our way and the guys ahead of us starting running back past us i turned to Marcus to show him a safe place on a wall, only to find him anywhere. I looked over the wall into a shallow valley maybe he fell or jumped over but could see him, until i saw him waving some 80m down the street ... he ran away like a crazy man as soon as he sensed the frenzy of the other guys running towards him ... heheheee ... not a very German thing to do ... Italians are usually teased to do so.
As the bull was escorted into his quarters, the next bull was ushered out and onto the expected streets. Look to the left ... look to the right ... either side ... at a safe distance ... men and boys ready in their stead to run or climb walls, poles, pillars, or whatever could prevent the bull’s horns from reaching them ... or us should i say. I noticed that the pointed horns were duly covered in small brass decorated cups to ensure they did not deliver any bloody damage if they managed to reach human flesh ... but if that had to occur ... the impact of some 700 kilos of bull ... is not something anybody would like to experience.
Next bull please ... and out he comes for his share of adrenalin delivery. Some guys were very brave and teased the bull at close range as they consciously apprehended their speedy chances or acquired tactics of how to avoid any contact or impact ... not that there were’nt any close shaves ... but all in all it was relatively safe. The guys dressed in white ... wearing a typical torero hat, controlled the bull’s direction to some extent, while another group on the opposite side ensured that their couterparts were never under immediate danger.
As we waited for the next bull to make his presence, we met the rest of the crew who were happy to see us and ask whether we were enjoying ourselves ... who wasn’t? It seemed that this Sunday evening at this town everybody decided to mellow down ... drink beer ... consume meat and other local produce ... and give a hard time to some tough bull.
As we sat on the wall next to a kiosk some 3m inside the white-marked region, the next bull was released, and from the stream of people retreating towards us, i could say that he was directed towards us. We quickly stood on the half a metre high wall unsafe from the bull’s horns should he decide to break my legs ... but ready to jump over down into the shallow valley in the case that had to happen ...i mean the bull come close enough. As we desperately searched to locate his position I could see this massive bull holding ground in the middle of the road, so 15m away, a mixture of sweat and saliva dripping out of his nostrils onto his mouth, while he kicked back at the ground with his front legs ... wow! What an amazing beast ... could see his muscle twitch as he considered his next move ... hopefully in the opposite direction ... NOT!!! One step towards us ... then a second ... and then sprinted towards the closest guys up on the same wall ... damn he’s getting closer ... we must get off this wall. As each one of us leaped into the valley we kept the bull at check to ensure if it was absolutely necessary to jump off as he potentially could stop, change his confused mind as well as direction ... but not this time ... he decided to go for a STRIKE ... and wipe the floor or wall clean of any light objects ... off we leapt ... this time all at once as there was no time to jump after each other ... the massive chunk of muscle was approaching at high velocity seaking impact ... only to realise that we all chickened out and flew below hoping that he doesn’t follow down the 2m drop. I could hear the sound of the scratching horns on the concrete wall were my flipflopped feet were standing few seconds before ... pheww ... perfect timing J
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We all laughed as we put ourselves together pushing off grass and wiping away beer that flew all over the place when people were waving thier hands as they jumped over. The bull was chasing others at some other part of the road as we made our way back up to the wall climbing the stoned wall very similar to tas-sejjieh, and continued talking as if nothing had happened.
One more to go, and then we were off back to the harbour town. The plan was to have dinner there at some Mexican place which the crew knew about. As we walked down the road we met the captian with more of his Pico friends who again pushed in a beer into our hands ... i drank out of courtesy as I’m not much of a beer drinking ... well not of a drinker at all ... but in the interest of maintain good relations with Portugal and Malta ... i sacrificed this bit J
The walk to the town took some 45 minutes ... we were 6 ... myself, Marcus, Rui, and 3 from the crew ... Umberto, Paolo and Marcou ... nice guys ... but only Umberto was fluent in English while the other 2 insisted on speaking to me in Portugese ... not much i could do. The town was quietly asleep as we approached a cafeteria ... consumed a coffee ... made use of the restrooms to rid of all the beer ... and made way further down to the waterfront. Several establishments were open and as we stopped at a trendy one i wondered whether there was a change of plan or not. As we sat down it was obvious that it wasn’t the mexican joint but drinks were being ordered ... no idea what’s happening ... well a beer is a sure thing ... not drinking any hard stuff for sure ... as coffee was still freshly being digested.
Rui and Marcus had a toast and this messed up the plan further as the mexican idea was quickly evaporating ... or so i thought. Some 50m futher down the waterline we entered the Mexican place called ‘Arriba’ ... and sat down at a table. Tequilas and Margeritas were being ordered while at this point i had to be direct and ask Umberto ... the party leader ... whether we were eating here.
‘Oh no ... i’m full with village food ... just came for drink’
So apparently up at the village, while Marcus and myself were following the bull, the crew were stationary by one of the kiosks consuming beer and food ... oh well ... maybe better this way ... will make a sandwich when i get to the boat ... but can’t drink Tequila, or even Margerita ... so what am i having ... beer again ... this time its a Corona of course. Now in my case, more than one beer, is like drinking water from the kitched drain ... a complete waste of money but simply a means to socialise.
It was getting late and as soon as the first round was about to be consumed i went to the bathroom and announced that i’m just about ready to go to sleep. Marcus and Rui quickly joined, as well as Umberto, while the other two wanted to stay on and party longer ... not a problem at all. We called a taxi and €10 later all 4 of us were standing next to the Arquepelago ... thank God ... few more moments and off to sleep ... prepared a bun with butter and cheese, had some apple juice, and prepared to go to bed ... tonight it should be easy to fall asleep ... thanks to the 4 beer i drank ... and the light breeze helped as well.
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