Cape Verde, Day One

 April 18, 2025
Praia, Ilda Santiago, Cape Verde

"Once there were 10 islands scattered in the sea..."~ Eleanor Stanford

Ms. Stanford goes on to describe islands where no one lived. There were no goats on the hillsides, no sound except bird calls in the ravines. Then the Portuguese landed their sailing ships in 1456. They saw the islands as staging areas for reprovisioning other vessels, and later, for colonization and holding African slaves waiting for the ship that would take them to the New World. 

The Cape Verdeans earned their freedom from Portugal in 1975, but the citizens can still obtain Portuguese passports which allows them to travel and work freely in the EU. However, our guide today told us no one goes to Europe unless they want to work. He likes playing more, so he works as much as he wants on the island, and plays when he doesn't. 

The gig economy is alive and well in Africa. (Even though they were can claim dual citizenship with a European power, the islanders consider themselves part of Africa.) 

We started off with a walk around the Praia city center. I say walk. It was more a forced march. He didn't stop for anything except when he saw some friends sitting outside a restaurant lingering over their lunch. He pointed out public buildings in a perfunctory way. Any time I wanted to take a photo, we fell terribly behind the rest of our group and had to scramble to catch up. 

With my lung issues, I don't hurry worth a darn.

We knew he was ahead of us somewhere because we could still hear him talking on our QuietVox devices, earpieces that allow us to hear our guides even if we become separated from them, though they cannot hear us. Finally, more than half a long block from our "leader," I lost my patience in front of the Presidential Palace (No, he didn't even stop there, though we hear through our QV's that it was perfectly okay for us to take a photo of it. Some places, like Kenya, don't allow photography of official residences.)  As he kept striding on, I drew a deep breath, and shouted, "Will you please STOP?"

As a classically trained soprano, I can make myself heard over distance. Ask my kids. 

He froze. 

All apologies, he simply hadn't taken the trouble to look back to see his group straggling along in clumps of two's and three's, in a long trudging trail. After this, he was much more aware of what was happening with we unhappy few who'd been assigned to him. 

The historical museum we should have seen was closed due to Good Friday. Fair enough. I'm glad there are still places in the world that honor this holy day. We saw a procession reenactment of Christ carrying His cross, followed by singing worshippers.

This video is from my friend Karla. I wasn't quick enough to get my camera up to record the one we saw, but there were similar processions all over the island.

Then we hopped back into our smaller 22 person bus/van. Our next stop was a Portuguese fort, high on a hilltop. Once they had begun colonizing the islands, they attracted the attention of Barbary pirates, so the fort with its many cannons was built to deter raids.

The elevated location also offered glimpse of what Cape Verde used to be. There is a deep, rich valley which used to have a river running through it. Fruit orchards, strawberry beds, and sugar cane were strewn through the ravine and climbed the walls of the steep valley in terraced fields. It was the most green we'd seen since setting foot on Santiago. 

The rest of the island looks like a scene from the outer circle of hell--all rock and sand and desiccated grasses and scrubby trees. However, our guide, who strangely never gave us his name..., says it will all green up again once the "rainy season" starts in July. They are hoping for two months of rain. 

Rainy season used to last four months.

When we visited a different Cape Verde island in 2022, we were told the islands are suffering from a desertification effect due to the prevailing winds of the ever expanding Sahara. There wasn't a cloud in the sky the day we visited, but a yellowish haze covered Ilda Santiago, small particles of dust and sand, the breath of the desert being swept across the Atlantic. 

On our last stop, we walked a curved lane called "Banana Street" lined with not with banana plants, but Unesco protected homes.  At the end of the curve was a historic Catholic church that had been built by the Portuguese in the 15th century. It was a simple structure, but was adorned by painted tile and an embellished painted ceiling in a prayer alcove. 

And home to a risque story about a renegade priest who had 12 wives and many, many children. He was never recalled from his post, but when he died, he was denied burial inside the church proper. His posterity still gather to celebrate their big, forbidden family.  

As we headed back to the ship, I was thankful for something that happened on this excursion. Or rather didn't happen. At the Portuguese fort, we had to traverse a rocky, uneven patch, stepping over larger boulders to reach the old ruin. I lost my balance and very nearly went tail over tea-kettle. If not for the DH's steely grip on my arm, I'd have suffered a very bad fall and landed on sharp rocks. He was in mid-step over a boulder when I first began to go down, so I don't know how he kept me upright, balanced on one leg as he was. But I'm ever so thankful he did!