The Azores Archipelago – Matija + Marina Weddings

Oh, the beauty! Oh, the majesty!

I don’t want to be overly dramatic, but the things we’ve seen on Azores often defied belief! This is our attempt at recording the breathtaking experiences from a small volcanic archipelago in the middle of the Atlantic ocean.

We flew in from Lisbon and started the week long adventure on Flores island, westernmost point of European ‘land’.
After a 3-day bad weather spell which closed the airport (air strip), we had the luck of just flying in pretty bumpy (instead of being diverted back).

On our way there, we flew over many other islands from the archipelago, some of which we even saw occasionally through the low clouds. Here is the volcano on the Pico island. And when I say ‘volcano on the island’, I actually mean that the volcano is the whole island. It’s one of few vine-growing regions in Azores, so you can see vine growing all the way up the volcano.

Flores is… breathtaking. To put it mildly. We nicknamed it ‘the island of waterfalls’. Let’s start with the disappearing Poço Do Bacalhau waterfall, just above our house, where wind turns the crashing stream of water into drizzle over the village. And yes, it’s odd seeing a 300 meter waterfall just as you open your bedroom window in the morning.

There is water in all its forms everywhere — lakes, streams, rivers, waterfalls, rain, fog, clouds and ocean, anywhere you turn. Combined with temperate climate and volcanic ground, this creates abundance of flora like nothing we’ve ever seen. Every little piece of ground is covered with plants growing over other plants.

Something has to power those hundreds of waterfalls — and that’s the weather. It changes from hour to hour to every possible extreme. Flores is in the middle of the Atlantic, after all, and being the westernmost island of the Azores, it’s beaten like a nutshell by the might of waves and winds of the open ocean.

Everything here is stunning, even ordinary things. Case in point, this little farm, sitting alone above the sea. And this is the road leading to that farm (photo below), which is a home to just a few cows. Covered in rose petals, it looks as if it’s waiting for some princess to pass through. We drove all the way down just to make sure a luxurious hotel wasn’t hiding there somewhere. It wasn’t. Just a few cows.

Starting upon this stone path, which reeked of Indiana Jones movies, we didn’t know what to expect. Probably a waterfall?

As we climbed, the forest turned into a clearing and we saw first peeks of what turned into and endless cascade of Riba do Ferreiro waterfalls pouring into Lagoa dos Patos. I started counting them and… quit after 20, when I realized many waterfalls split into smaller ones on their downhill race to the lake.

Needless to say, it took us two hours to be able to let go and just stop shooting already. We slowly came to grips with the fact that some things are just too majestic to be done justice on a simple photograph. Or a thousand photographs.

As we were leaving, we run into another disappearing waterfall… or in this case, circulating. The wind was blowing it sideways into a slanting rock which diverted it upward, creating a full circle of water.

Here’s a series dedicated to the might of Atlantic ocean. Shot in Fajã Grande, westernmost European settlement… with a few waterfalls to the side, of course. Because, why not?
And this volcanic pebble beach (below)… those pebbles are the size of basketballs! (Which makes the waves 3 meters high, yes.)

Next day, the wind and waves were just as unrelenting.

Each village has a viewpoint like this, this one overlooking Fajãzinha. The village sits on a river formed by all those majestic waterfalls seen hiding just beneath the clouds.

Higher parts of the island were always reliably under fog and clouds, without exception. We were told it should clear by July. Probably.

Another one of those village viewpoints, or miradouros. This one over Ponta Delgada. (not to be confused with other Ponta Delgadas on other islands)

Roads were beautiful, empty and pure joy to drive around. It’s a shame our car couldn’t keep up — the clutch was half burnt out from steep ascents all over the island and the engine wasn’t feeling too well either.

Time to leave Flores. After being closed for further two days, the airport opened just in time for us to fly off to the São Miguel island, part of the eastern group. After a bit of island-hopping (plane acts as a local bus on Azores), we arrived to Ponta Delgada. A different Ponta Delgada.

São Miguel is much more populated than Flores and also more mellow regarding climate and relief — but it still has relatively wild weather, high volcanic activity and steep cliffs by European standards. Below is one of the volcanic lakes, Lagoa das Furnas, which includes sulphur fumes and boiling springs. They can cook your dinner in them, or you can slowly simmer yourself, whichever you prefer. We tried the latter and left beautifully bronzed.