Primeiro Dia nos Açores

At present, it is impossible to get a residency renewal appointment in Lisbon. Even after searching continental Portugal (Porto, Lagos, Vila Real, Caminha), there are no appointments. When one shows up, it is quickly taken away by bots, released (we believe) by agents arranging residencies for immigrants from South Asia – it's a kind of racket. So, we try the islands and reserve at time in Horta (pop 14,356 in 2021), on the Ilha do Faial in the Açores. That's a three-hour flight, but not much more expensive than driving to northern or southern Portugal and staying overnight. But since we're committed, we might as well stay a while.

We travel through the city of Ponta Delgada (pop 67,229 in 2021), and from there, board a smaller plane for the flight to Faial. The views of Porto de Ponta Delgada and the Caldeira das Sete Cidades from the prop-plane are excellent. From this low altitude, we can inspect the rocky forms of the smaller cones within the larger rim. Though brief and a bit hazy, we may never get a better view.

Approaching Horta from the west, we first spot the Morro de Castelo Branco, a large mound (hill) thrust into the ocean along a thin isthmus. The gridded, grassy fields are set apart by the dark, craggy edges and the shifting foam of the tide.

 

 

 

Our hotel is harborside. To the east, standing like Fuji above the breakwater, is the Montanha do Pico, on the Ilha do Pico, the tallest mountain in the nation of Portugal (7,713 feet above sea level). The seawall is built with inky, pitted, volcanic stone blocks, and surrounds the workaday Porto and the tiny Marina.

The harbor's natural bay is framed by the headland of Ponta da Espalamaca to the north and the twin-calderas of Monte da Guia to the south.

 

Near the southern edge of the Porto, is the Igreja de Nossa Senhora das Angústias (seventeenth to nineteenth centuries), a modest, well-kept neighborhood church with some surprising features. The facade is a simple tripartite composition with edges and arched opening trimmed in more vesicular stone, which spills into the plaza.

As opposed to the calçadas we see in the rest of Portugal, in Horta it is the reverse: a light design in a dark field. The is the freguesia (civil parish) of Angústias – anguish.

 

 

Inside, the worship space contains two side chapels near the entrance, two raised pulpits, and two chapels near the altar. The coffered ceiling of the alter includes a series of beautifully illustrated brasões da família with their calligraphic names, all around a fantastic, carved brasão of Utra (the family of Joss van Hurtere). Lining the walls is a program of painted panels depicting scenes from the arrival and early days on the island.

Oração à Senhora das Angústias …

Oh Mãe amorosíssima, tão piedosa como aflita, a cuja alma pura custou a Vida e a Morte de Vosso Filho tantas angústias.

Não merece chamar-se vosso filho quem vê sem lágrimas o Vosso Pranto. Eu me confundo e envergonho de ter um coração tão terno para com as criaturas e tão duro para convosco.

Acendei no meu coração o fogo do vosso amor, para que derrame lágrimas de compaixão pelas vossas angústias e de arrependimento pelos meus pecados, que vos causaram tantas dores.

Virgem singular, advogada dos pecadores, pelas vossas angústias dai-me força nas contrariedades e aflições, saúde para a minha alma e para o meu corpo, esperança e garantia para alcançar o céu. Fazei que, no dizer do apóstolo, ao fazer-vos companhia nas angústias, cá na terra, Vos possa contemplar nas consolações, lá na Glória.

Amen.

[Prayer to the Lady of Anguish ...

Oh very loving Mother, as pious as you are afflicted, whose pure soul has cost the Life and Death of Your Son so much anguish.

He who sees Your Weeping without tears does not deserve to be called Your son. I am confused and ashamed of having such a tender heart towards creatures and so hard towards you.

Light the fire of your love in my heart, so that I may shed tears of compassion for your anguish and of repentance for my sins, which have caused you so much pain.

Singular Virgin, advocate of sinners, through your anguish give me strength in setbacks and afflictions, health for my soul and for my body, hope and guarantee to reach heaven. Make that, in the words of the apostle, when I keep you company in your anguish, here on earth, I may contemplate You in your consolations, there in Glory.

Amén.]

 

 

 

 

We walk up the Avenida 25 de Abril, along the Marina, and look for the newly assigned offices of AIMA (IRN). The offices are on this street, and the appointment notice gives the address as "s/n" (sem número) – which is as useful as it sounds. So, we wander but find nothing except the lovely seaside views.

 

 

The nice lady at the hotel reception counter assures is that this must be in the Tribunal Judicial, which Google Maps says is on Rua Luis de Camões – next time, trust Apple Maps (which had it right). We make a plan to double-check tomorrow when we take the ferry from the terminal across the street.

Before dinner, we hike up to catch the sunset from the Monte da Guia. Uncertain of the terrain, we first test the trails on the Monte Queimado. The way up is 'okay', and there is a very nice miradouro, but the descent toward the Praia de Porto Pim is paved with sharp, loose lava rocks and steps with logs for risers.

When we reach the valley, we find two coves on either side of a slim sandy strip.

 

 

 

We thus decide to take the steep way up, and the easy way back to Guia – which turns out to be a mistake. The way up (Atalho do Bacalhau) is a muddy and slippery, so we stick to the road. The road loops at the ruined Forte de Nossa Senior da Guia, and the wind hits us hard. Luckily, at the switchback, the road is cut into the hillside and gives us cover from the gale.

We reach the miradouro, and peer into the duas crateras semicirculares which forms a snowman-shaped lagoon called the 'Caldeira do Inferno' (caldera of hell). With such descriptors, 'Angústias' and 'Inferno', we wonder what the islands have in store.