More dots in the ocean

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We take the dawn ferry from Sao Vincente to Santo Antao, our fourth Cape Verdian island. Thankfully, it is a calm sea.

The island's hills are rugged, rocky and recently volcanic. We start along a cobbled track, they are common in Cape Verde. We are high enough to sometimes be in the clouds. Pine trees catch the moisture and drip on us. There is a huge view south over Sao Vincente, looking very small in the vast Atlantic. We climb over a ridge and the view changes. Below us is a deep ravine, maybe 400 metres down near-vertical sides. The sides are striated with different colours of rock and nestling at the bottom are small villages, each surrounded by terraced fields. It is a beautiful and arresting sight.

We walk around the ravine rim and then slowly descend. A cobbled path is cut into the cliff face, a small wall the only thing between us and the huge drop. As we descend, the rock and scrub gives way to agriculture. Sugar cane, bread fruit, papaya, mango, yam, beans, potatoes, tomatoes ...

There is also a grog factory. Grog is the local alcohol, a rough rum made from sugar cane. We watch as they crush the cane for its juice which is then fermented for about a week. Round the side is a crude outdoor still, fired by the dry, crushed sugar cane stalks. A clear, lethal, liquid, grog, drips from the still. It is all quite illegal but clearly tolerated, there is a grog factory or two in every valley!

The small hotel we stay in is very quiet but, behind the dining room, we find the local disco, complete with loud music and glitter ball. But no customers. It closes down at about 9, still empty.

The next day we need to head further north so we have to climb out of this ravine as it heads east. It is a long climb, up and up to a high ridge. But once on the ridge, we can see our destination, deep in the ravine and, just beyond it is the Atlantic ocean. The village is incredibly isolated. There is no traffic and the children play in the street. On Sunday morning, the church bells ring at seven to summon everyone to mass. Ladies and children, all in their best clothes, walk in from the hamlets around. Few men, we notice!

Everyone walks here because most of the valleys have no roads, the ravines are too narrow and too steep. Instead, a network of cobbled paths connect the villages. For the schoolchildren, it might be an hour's walk to school, for their parents an hour's walk to the nearest shop or road

The local people we meet are incredibly helpful. While we are seldom lost, we are always asking them to confirm that we are on the right path. They point us onward and direct us, maybe in broken English but more usually in French or Portuguese or Creole. Ethnically, the population is a mix of European and African heritage, the islands were unhabited until late in the 1400s when the Spanish and Portuguese arrived with West African slaves.

Our third day of walking is along the Atlantic shore. The cliffs are high, more than 300 metres. Part way down the cliff is a path, a cobbled shelf about a metre wide clinging to the cliff wall. It sometimes climbs steeply, zig-zagging up the cliff face before diving down again to cross a ravine at sea level. For mile after mile, the path never fails us, hanging on to the cliff face above the pounding ocean below. The engineering is amazing, the path must have taken years to build.

There are even a few small villages along the way. Saying they are isolated doesn't come close. The only access is by boat from the raging Atlantic Ocean or along this path. Some villages are now abandoned, so if you really want that "off grid" life style ...

Tomorrow we will head back on the ferry to Mindelo on Sao Vincente. It has been great walking with the Cape Verdians on their rugged islands. There is a lot more to this country than sandy beaches.

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