As I’ve previously written, I had reason to visit the Azores, a small archipelago of nine islands in the Northern Atlantic Ocean.
In 1979, I threw a corked bottle containing a letter about myself into the Atlantic Ocean, that bottle was found in 1981 by Mr. Antonio on the tiny island of Santa Maria. Neither speaking nor writing English he had a co-worker pen a reply. I responded to his note but, as life goes, we lost touch.
Fast-forward almost 35 years; I was moved to try to find Mr. Antonio, the concept of the The Art of Living Lost was starting to take shape and I couldn’t imagine a better place to get lost then in the Azores. Little did I know that I’d find myself in a paradise where I be the least lost I’ve ever been in my entire life.
Now if you were current on the BLOG, you’d know months after writing generic letters to several “Mr. Antonio’s”, I received an e-mail message from Andre, the “original” Mr. Antonio’s grandson. The e-mail included details of his family, a lovely photo and an invitation to visit. How could it be we were connected in 1981 and found each other AGAIN in 2016? Curious, I started my research.
The Azores are surprisingly easy to travel to – just a 4.5-hour flight from Boston’s Logan International airport. I simply cashed in 40,000 frequent flyer miles and booked my journey to Santa Maria via Sao Miguel. I reserved a room at the only hotel on the island and planned to rent a car. When confirming my travel plans with Andre, he told me no car was necessary as he and Mr. Antonio would be my travel guides. Did warning bells ring? Maybe, but was I so cynical that I couldn’t accept a kind gesture? New life, new leaf, it was time to find out.
Travel plans set, I drove to Boston and, as I stood in line for security, I wondered what was the purpose of this trip? Why was I destined to meet this man? My heart raced; I sent a crazed text to a friend and told her that “waiting to meet Mr. Antonio was like opening presents on Christmas day”.
Upon landing on Sao Miguel, the largest and most populous of the Azorean islands, I nervously collected my bags and was accepted into Portugal. Cleared through customs I boarded a second plane to Santa Maria. I don’t know how I managed to arrive at baggage claim; all I remember are the sliding doors that separated me from Mr. Antonio and Andre.
Confidently (NOT AT ALL) I rolled my bag through the doors and charged towards someone the about age of Mr. Antonio’s grandson. Fortunately, realizing my mistake, Andre quickly moved forward with a sign listing my name and showing a picture of a bottle on the beach. I nervously shook his hand and saw alongside him – Mr. Antonio – exactly as I imagined him, part Anthony Quinn and part gentleman. Pounding heart aside, I knew this is where my epoch adventure would begin!
Over coffee we spoke of the letter in the bottle and the universal purpose of our connection. Mr. Antonio said that if he were 20 years younger, he would have come to America to find me. I didn’t realize it when, but surely if I were 20 years younger I would have stayed on Santa Maria.
Our bottle was found on the beautiful Baía dos Anjos or Bay of the Angels. Mr. Antonio explained that while fishing one evening he saw the bottle sitting upright on a mass of volcanic rock. He picked it up and quickly broke it to see the letter. That evening, finding the bottle and writing to the young America girl, would become a legendary story to be shared with generations to come.
Santa Maria has an interesting history. From Baía dos Anjos we drove to Nossa Senhora dos Anjos the oldest chapel in the Azores renowned for hosting a fateful visit by Christopher Columbus in 1493. Legend has it that Columbus vowed to attend Thanksgiving mass in the church if his lost ship the Pinta was returned from the harsh, raging sea. The Pinta was spared and Columbus kept his promise and celebrated mass in the tiny chapel.
While admiring the church, Mr. Antonio’s brother came to say hello and I was introduced as the bottle girl. We were spirited to their welcoming home where I was treated to homemade blackberry cordial and cookie ears. The kindness and generosity of Mr. Antonio’s family was boundless and I knew I was blessed to have met them.
Full of cookie ears and relaxed from the blackberry cordial, I met the newest member of our adventuring team — Marta. Magical Marta (aka Andre’s girlfriend) was smart, funny and unbelievably tolerant in answering my “less than elegant” questions. Thrilled to have another crew member, we settled into the car and continued our journey.
Now I’ll say it takes a lot to shock me, or maybe surprisingly little? Traversing the winding roads of Santa Maria, I noticed the lanes turned from flat golden farmland to rich green hills. In a blink of an eye the view went from cow filled pastures to dark mountains lush with vegetation. We stopped at the highest point on Santa Maria called Pico Alto where I was treated to a view of the cow speckled yellow lands to the west and dense green forest to the east.
As we continued to travel across the island, the panoramas of the sea were beyond my imagination. Part Pacific Coast Highway, part Positano, Italy; the views were all serene, clear and magical. The cliffs were a sheer mass of volcanic rock plummeting into water that was bluer then I’ve ever seen. They say, “life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away” — I was breathless. Clearly moved by my abundance of fortune, I conceded to the suggestion of a nap.
After two hours of coma like sleep Andre escorted me to his folk’s home so I could meet his family. To say I was fondly embraced would be an understatement; I was kissed, and kissed by Mr. Antonio, Mrs. Antonio, Andre’s parents Carlos and Suzete and his brother in-law Pedro. I was treated to a special glimpse of the beautiful Lorenzo who is Mr. Antonio’s first great-grand child. While Suzete and Marta prepared dinner I was offered a tour of the property.
Carlos, a worker in the local school system is also a bit of a farmer. Being of Italian decent, I understand familial farmers – any patch of land can be made suitable for tomatoes and cucumbers. However, this was no evening salad, instead it was a real, innovative growing system. Potatoes, tomatoes, onions, peppers, cucumbers and pumpkins gave way to rows of melon seedlings and fruit trees. So while the family was casual, loving and kind, the farming operation was massive and precise. Everything I consumed that evening from the dinner (fresh caught fish and home-grown vegetables) to the desert (brownies) to the after dinner drinks (lemon and blackberry cordials) were locally sourced and made by Mr. Antonio’s family. Andre’s mom and my hostess for the evening was something of a kindred spirit. She’s a teacher by trade and runs an immaculate household. She orchestrated the evening in an enchanting way, while attending to the needs of her family and her strange guest. The caring she extended to her mother-in-law reminded me of my own life and I felt at peace that I was where I was supposed to be.
Now it’s 23:00 local time and I’ve been awake for 37 hours but if you think we went home to sleep; you’d be mistaken. Instead we went to celebrate the launch of the 2016 Santa Maria Blues festival, an event that’s coordinated by Mr. Antonio’s youngest son. Andre, Marta and I threaded through a crowed art hall to the outdoor theater where the music was playing. Along the way I was introduced to new friends and say hello to the family I know. It’s become customary for me to kiss new comers on both cheeks and gratefully hug the people I’ve already met!
At 2:00 local time – 40 hours from the start of my fateful trip, I finally settle into bed.
On Sunday, I couldn’t imagine what was left to see on the tiny island. As it turns out today’s adventures were to be dedicated to my education in Portuguese culture, specifically sports and religion — although not in that order.
Every year Azoreans celebrate a religious custom called the Feast of the Holy Spirit where it’s customary for a secret patron, praying for help or salvation, to host a meal called the payment of promise, FOR THE ENTIRE ISLAND! Weeks in advance the patron sources the beef and vegetables, bakes the bread and produces the juices and wine. Large cubes of beef are simmered for days and served with a broth seasoned with mint and dill. The imperial soup as it’s called, is ladled over large hunks of bread until the concoction is soft and stew-like. You have the choice to drink red wine or juice. I had a large glass of red wine and can honestly say I’ve never been more content with my life.
You may be wondering, how do you fit the entire island into one room for a meal? Not surprisingly they have buildings that are part of the respective parishes dedicated to this celebration. About 50 people are whisked in and out at intervals depending on the individual guests. Everyone sits until the last person is done eating and, at the end of the meal you are asked to pray for the Holy Spirit, you yell VIVO! You pray for the emperor (the person who paid for the meal), you yell VIVO! Finally, you are asked to pray for the people who’ve prepared the meal – another VIVO and you exit with a sweetbread dessert.
I guess my VIVOs were heard because I was treated to another glimpse of heaven! At this point, I’m seriously wondering if I’m dreaming. Beautiful views, delicious food and amazing company what more could I wish for? How about wine, water and ducks? I’ll call it the vineyard, waterfall, big duck adventure. Staring a ton of colorful ducks, unimaginable rows of wine vines and a cavernous waterfall. I didn’t know where to go first! I fed the ducks, I climbed the stairs to the vines and I hopped stones to the base of the dramatic waterfall. Andre took photos while Mr. Antonio and Marta wondered when I would run out of energy. I ran out of sweet bread first. It was a religious experience.
Now what I know about American Football infinitely surpasses what I know about “futbol” or, in this case soccer. As it turns out, the European soccer team Benfica, the passion of Mr. Antonio, Andre and Marta, were in the finals. Four teams were playing two games; if Benfica won their match they would win for Lisbon. If they tied the match they would win for Lisbon; if they lost they lost. The twist? Andre had tickets to this exact game, which were hard to get and widely coveted. So what was he doing here with me – the bottle girl? Winning baby! I had the joyous honor of introducing Marta to the American slang term three-peat! Benfica beat Nacional 4 to 1 and are now 1st in the Primeira Liga! It was an entertaining, new experience for me and, a happy mood enhancer for Mr. Antonio, Marta and Andre.
So where could we possibly go next? Sunday dinner Azorean style!
It’s common for local Azoreans to have a beach house 2 or 3 kilometers from their primary residence. In this case we were back at Anjos for a dinner with even more family! In addition to the folks I’d already met, I was lucky to dine with Andre’s beautiful sister Claudia and Mr. Antonio’s daughter and son-in-law. I was treated to a BBQ with chef Pedro refusing to share the exact ingredients in his delicious spicy mixture. HEY PEDRO, I almost have the recipe cracked!
On my last day in Santa Maria I ran around the island taking photos and shooting video footage that I will share over Social Summer. It was an exhilarating experience as I easily navigated the island on my own and documented my adventures to share with friends and family. Yes, I was a bit somber as I contemplated traveling to Sao Miguel without my new friends — but I was definitely up for the challenge.
As we made small chat at the airport I wondered when I would see my Azorean family again? Did they feel the same passion for the adventure? I can certainly say this; I didn’t pick this journey it picked me. I was plucked from my beautiful life and transported to a place where everything I love was abundant and I lived a dream well beyond my imagination. I cried a 1000 tears but emerged light and free exactly like the 14-year-old girl who threw that fateful bottle into the ocean. Maybe that was the point?
I loved fulfilling this long time dream and challenge you to pick a dream of your own and just do it!
Have an AMAZING summer,
If you’d like to learn more about the Azores checkout Visit Azores.