Cape Verde Round One: Fogo

Two weeks ago I was lucky enough to visit the African archipelago of Cape Verde, some 500 kilometers off the coast of Senegal, to do some collaborative work with their Peace Corps program, and came back feeling inspired and invigorated. Cape Verde is a place of wide vistas, dramatic and varied landscapes, smooth African music and good natured people. Though the local language is a Portuguese Creole, I was fortunate enough to stay with local volunteers and otherwise get along fine with lots of smiling and hand gestures, with a dash of French/English thrown in too.

My first stop was the island of Fogo, an ancient volcano that remains active and erupts every 15 years or so but mostly minds its manners. My first impression was, "this is Africa?" The streets were clean and paved with beautiful cobbles, the buildings weren't falling over, and I wasn't constantly heckled by calls of 'toubab, toubab' (whitey, whitey, the constant refrain in Senegal). Things only got better as the days went on, and I found myself slowly but surely lulled into an appreciation of these seemingly forgotten islands. Though still undeveloped by western standards, they are far ahead of Senegal, and there is a peace here that we should all be envious of.

A visit to the island of Fogo is incomplete without scrambling up the newly formed volcanic cone and dashing down its rocky slopes in a fantasy land above the clouds. Nestled within the walls of the original volcano, a small town supports a tiny population that somehow manages to grow wine ON THE INSIDE OF THE CRATER! The soil is actually quite suited to growing grapes, and from a seemingly impossible moonscape sprout vines and a small winery even does tastings of their red and white creations. Though not comparable to a fine Bergundy, they hold their own.

Waking at dawn to climb to the top, I was greeted by a sensation that I had practically forgotten about: COLD! Atop the mountain it had actually frozen overnight and in the shadow of the volcano it was a chilly start to the day indeed. As expected, it was all worth it- after a 2 1/2 hour hike, we reached the top to clear blue skies and a truly fantasy-like landscape above the clouds amid the silence of the atmosphere. We toured the extinct cone, still burping sulfurous steam from its yellowy floor, and still had the best part of the day ahead of us- the DESCENT! Essentially a controlled fall, coming down the mountain entails a several hundred meter-long dash on pebble size stones that rise to mid-shin. It is without a doubt the most intense rock slide I've ever experienced, and once we finally reached the bottom all I could think was, "I want to do it again NOW!"

Alas, time was short and we still had to hike 7 kilometers to the coast where we were staying the night, so any thoughts of climbing up again just for one more intense ramble back down was out of the question. Something tells me I haven't seen the last of Mt. Fogo though. After hiking out of the desolate crater, we emerged on the green side of the island, blessed with almost all of the precipitation Fogo sees, and were all of a sudden walking through a mist-filled forest amid giant spiked bromeliads and a dense green forest. Contrast, contrast, contrast, smacking me in the face without pause. We strolled through coffee plantations with banana and papaya trees and ultimately emerged on the coast to a pure blue ocean with a cool inland breeze...from 2829m at the top of Mt. Fogo to the edge of the sea it had been an amazing day.

With three more islands to visit yet and short on time, I sadly said my goodbyes to Fogo and the two great volunteers who had hosted me there, Sarah and Rachel, with my sights on Sao Vicente and Santo Antao, two islands to the north. I had no idea what I was going to find, but you'll have to wait to find out...