I want to warn you, The Azores you are about to discover are not found in the tour guide books. Nor are they the Ilhas Encantadas that we have always heard about from our Maes who have muito saudades for their youth.
They will be their own beautiful thing to you, and they are their own language that defies translation.
Let them rest with you, see as much as you possibly can, Tio Mane will make sure of this. Let him show you HIS Sao Miguel.
You will land in the most cosmopolitan city, Ponta Delgada, and the civilization will get sparser from there on in. They have a few American chains, a mall like structure with a cruiseship theme. Eat, eat, eat. As much fresh seafood as you can bear. THIS is what the memories ache for.
Mida's husband was/is a teacher, so please allow him to teach you. I've learned multitudes from him, even though his English is terrible and my Portuguese is worse. Maybe, like me, you will get used to speaking in native tongues and figure out how meaningless the words actually are.
He spent a day with me, driving up into the mountains, pulling over to collect pumice on the side of the road. He kept pulling over to show me vistas, belvederes, as the British would call their butlers. Places designed to lay these mountains at your feet. You will tire of the gloomy splendor and the overcast skies above the lush greens.
Hydrangeas line the fields, cheaper and easier to mend than fences. Cows are the only other bits of variety in the landscape. The best are the traffic jams, when the shepherds/cowherds use the roads. Cows, especially a multitude, are even larger than you think.
The twin lakes of different hues are the most famous landmark. But look for the haunted and empty hotel placed at the best vantage point for tourists. It was filled finished and furnished, ready to open, when the political powers decided not to allow a final permit (or something). You can see how every window is broken, and the curtains flutter in the breeze.
Tia Mida is a sweet old Portuguese lady now. A tiny apartment, with a lovely view of the city. Her stairwell has a very distinct tang of mildew which has not changed since I first visited. Nor have I in my life encountered the same smell anywhere.
She raised 3 kids in that apartment. Plus a tortaruga in the bathtub for many years, until it escaped by leaping off the roof and driving off with the hooligans who were foolish enough to worship turtles falling from the sky.
Tia Maria Jose lives just outside the city, and the rest home she is in is quiet. Most of the time, she is under the impression that the nurses steal her clothes.
On the far side of the island, almost a day's journey is the Grand Garden. It is called something else, named after an American who loved formal gardens. It has an Orange Pool. Very healthy and deliciously warm. SWIM there!!!
At the end of the tour, if you are lucky, is Tio Mane's dream house. He bought it several trips ago and is building on he land by himself. The house is decent enough, even a second floor with an incredible view. Mida does not seem to be in any rush to move in. Except to use it for storage. It does seem like a man's workshop.
