2024-08 Azores Report

Pure nature and the sea all around. But that was it!

Azores & Portugal - never again!

Where else can you go in August when EVERYONE is traveling? Someone I can no longer remember unfortunately gave us this idea: Azores, Portugal. Pure nature and the sea all around, in the middle of the Atlantic halfway to New York. A temperate climate, eight islands that are easy to move between, green, green, and much less tourism because they are less developed.

The maximum temperature of 25 degrees in August, which we found on the Internet, was more than decisive for our vacation plans. Paloma had already booked all the flights and accommodation on four different islands, including a rental car, in April. Everything was organized.

The plane from Madrid to Sao Miguel, Ponta Delgada was already packed to the last seat. My first concerns were whether it would really be so undeveloped. Then, after a long queue at the car rental office, we took a Hyundai SUV onto the excellently paved, four-lane highway. This vehicle not only beeps when the seat belts are not fastened, but also every time the lane changes over the dividing line - and at every other opportunity. And the outside thermometer already showed 28 degrees, huh? ...

Sao Miguel - Ponta Delgada

Ponta Delgada, the capital of the Azores: After all, hardly any tall houses, but narrow one-way streets, through which, however, a large number of people crowded. So there was little tourism to forget! The “Mercado” of Ponta Delgada is advertised as worth a visit, but doesn't even deserve this description.

Unfortunately, this island also proved to be not worth exploring, as the relevant internet media such as Trip Advisor, Booking etc. make it easy for anyone to find any kind of spectacular location - and there is everyone! At least there is a huge crater lake worth seeing. The access roads are lined with parked rental cars that have found this place despite often poorly functioning GPS.

For our first evening meal, we found a Mercado de Peix, a fish and seafood restaurant at the harbor, where the mentality of the Portuguese locals and waiters soon became apparent: to say that the Portuguese have a certain melancholy is not really accurate. The Portuguese are grumpy and rather bad-tempered, drive rather recklessly and like to wave you off if it's not your turn for a request, however brief. Vinegar, oil, pepper and salt always have to be asked for first. The guest is the enemy. The traditional food in Portugal is at least tolerable, but over the next few weeks it became clear that the menu is the same everywhere and the quality of the food is on the lower end. In addition, you wait at least half an hour for your food and they simply don't clear the table after you've eaten. A good waiter will bring something and then take it away again, which is no longer necessary! Yes, there is a friendly and an unfriendly chaos!

Fortunately, our apartment had air conditioning, but the sun was beating down on the balcony all day long, making it almost impossible to stay there - the outside temperature had risen to almost 30 degrees in the afternoon. And then there was the enormous humidity, practically the same as in Cádiz, from where we had escaped.

We managed to get through the first six days by the skin of our teeth, going to two different Indian restaurants for dinner - something you usually only do once a year in Madrid. And there was an American steakhouse (Esquina), which at least had really good meat on offer.

Even the TV couldn't improve our mood due to the lack of NETFLIX and Spanish programs. You get annoyed by all these abstruse Olympic disciplines like speed climbing, beach volleyball and all that nonsense.

To refuel the Hyundai, we had to take a short, seven-kilometer round trip from the airport to the nearest petrol station.


Terceira

As it soon turned out, we should have taken the plane to Terceira immediately and stayed there too. Landing in Sao Miguel and straight onto the next plane! One island is one island and the other islands are the other islands!

But: Paloma had carelessly neglected to download the airline's app onto her cell phone. How many more damn downloads are we going to be obliged to do? Surely you normally check in and drop off your bags at the counter? However, due to the lack of this app, we were unable to check in for the flight the day before via the internet. The result: when we arrived at the airport, we were told that we had been put on the waiting list because we had not checked in the day before due to “overbooking”. “Don't worry, the next flight to Terceira leaves at nine in the evening”. Panic, seven hours here at the Aeroporto! But at the last minute - for whatever reason - we were called to board.

Arrival: Accommodation ok, simply the Opel Astra left to us by the car rental company left a lot to be desired.

In terms of fish, however, there was a highlight: the BeiraMar, a white and blue restaurant on the second floor with a view of the small harbor of Sao Mateus. Skewers of langostinos and calamar, red rockfish grilled to perfection and exceptionally friendly staff. The best island, although there wasn't much to see. To swim, you climb into rock pools at some coastal points, after which a large number of people spread out their towels on the hard ground to let themselves be grilled. We'll be off again in a minute! Some people hire a boat tour for whale watching, others go diving.

Pico

Then on the next plane to Pico.

But first a shock: our suitcases were missing from the baggage carousel. They were still on Terceira and would arrive on the 6 p.m. flight in the late afternoon. The second shock: Pico was the only island where it was not possible to book a rental car online. And none of the agencies at the airport simply had a single car available. So we took a cab to our lovely accommodation surrounded by vineyards, which are walled off as small plots to protect them from the wind and weather.

Even lovelier was the landlady, who immediately got us a Peugot van from a good friend. Ten times better than the Opel Astra, and you don't look like a stupid tourist in such a vehicle! Towards evening, we picked up our suitcases in the Peugot and had a mediocre dinner in Horta, the main town, on the way back.


At over 2000 meters, the Pico volcano is the highest mountain in Portugal, mostly surrounded by clouds. Besides that, there's not much to see or eat there.

In Trip Advisor, we found the best restaurant to be Ancora Douro, a fancy-pants place. My pulpo was tolerable, but the flesh of Paloma's fish was battered to a soft, white paste. And those tardy waiters again! Last dinner elsewhere: hamburger with fries. You might think of fries as an annoying addition, but these were perfectly crispy with a potato taste. As on the first two islands, you could buy all kinds of potato potato chips in the supermarkets, but the selection of vegetables and cold cuts was extremely poor.

Fayal

A short boat trip to the last island, which turned out to be the most boring and least valuable in culinary terms. Paloma had simply been able to book the rental car for pick-up at the airport, and the same car rental company at the port again had no vehicles available. So we took a cab to the Aeroporto.

Our accommodation had no air conditioning. In addition, the thermometer showed 32 degrees, which, together with the immense humidity, can completely spoil your stay. So you simply leave the house for a tour of the island with less interesting views or go out for dinner in the evening.

The restaurant at the BLESS Beach Club served international dishes with good service, as you can get anywhere in the world. Atletico, which Trip Advisor describes as the best restaurant, did not live up to its promise of tough meat and battered fish. Even the fact that we are Atletico Madrid fans didn't help. On a hopeful trip to Horta, the market in the island's capital turned out to be even more ridiculous than the one in Ponta Delgada.

Conclusion:

Traveling has become a nightmare and you can't find anything on your own anymore because every interesting spot has already been publicized in the media. And then there are always ALL of them. 
We are simply tourists ourselves, but at least we consider ourselves to be among the few who behave correctly abroad. Any stupid, ill-mannered, tastelessly dressed, fat and over-tattooed idiot is able to come to any place in the world today. And then you are among all these people that you would otherwise not want to have anything to do with. But we are weird, aren't we? A “normal” family with children would certainly celebrate such three weeks despite heat and humidity, enjoy the sun, lie on the coastal rocks, get sunburnt and in the evening have squid rings with French fries and a few beers.

The Pico, cloudy. Incidentally, I reduced my burnt belly considerably in Photoshop: Cut out the belly, drag the white wooden slats behind it to the left, insert the belly again (control v) and drag it inwards using the bend filter.

The most devastating thing about this three-week trip, however, was that I had let my computer at home on Paloma's advice with a view to more intensive relaxation. In order to kill time anyway, I had already bought a clipboard with a 5mm pattern, pencil and eraser in Sao Miguel as a small substitute and put some new guitar details on paper. Everything else could simply be done on my cell phone. After all ...

Finally the flight back to Madrid, home! Aeroporto Sao Miguel: endless queues at the check-in counters. A walk similar to the one pigs have to take on their way to the slaughterhouse.

Or before departure: after the flight from Fayal, you stand at the baggage carousel waiting for your suitcases. Suddenly the conveyor belt stops, the flap closes and the lights go out. Around 20 passengers are panicking about what will happen next. Two minutes later, the gate opens again, the conveyor belt starts up and the rest of the suitcases arrive. This is a form of sadism.

We've already been to the Portuguese mainland twice. The same tenor each time: just go back to Spain! The last time we drove across the imaginary border to the next Spanish village in Extremadura. We looked for the church tower, because that's where the best restaurants are in Spanish villages. We entered an extremely different world. People were communicating, laughing, one of them came in with a large basket of porcini mushrooms. After about seven kilometers between Portugal and Spain, we were back in paradise!

One more thing: the Portuguese have a brand of coffee called Sical, which really is better than anything else. But to enjoy good Portuguese products such as cheese and wine, you don't have to travel to Portugal and certainly not to the Azores, everything is available on the internet!

And our plan for August 2025: We'll rent a detached house in Asturias (Spain's north = cooler), no unpleasant neighbors (computer with us, of course), and drive to the next town or to the sea for sight-seeing and eating.