We only spent one night on the island of Tericeria. The port city is named Angra do Heroismo. The city has a much bigger feel than does Horta, Faial, the last city we visited. The downtown area has many shops featuring higher-end shopping and it is considerably larger than Horta. There is more traffic and generally feels bigger, busier and more modern. We did not make it out of the city and did not see the rest of the island. When you look at the picture of Herosimo, the light colored roofs are all the new ones that have been replaced since the last earthquake.
I ran across a boat that I had never seen before in the maria and had to post a picture for my boating friends. It was a inboard engine inflatable raft. You just don't see that every day.
We arrived on a Friday which happened to be the first day of a festival weekend. I never quite was able to catch the name of the festival or what it was all about. Many of the downtown streets were decorated with signs and lights. As we walked around during the day it seemed the city was preparing for something really big. There were sound stages set up at various locations and trucks with loudspeakers and bull paintings on the side driving around announcing something. I think the something was the location of the Truada da Corda - the bullfight on a cord event.
The bullfight in the street was held in different locations though out the region each night during the season. I guess the truck with the loudspeaker and the bull paintings on the side was how the word was spread. We stopped by a tourist information place to see if we could firm up the actual location. They had a printed sheet with approximate locations for each night.
We did a recon mission in the late afternoon to make sure we knew where we needed to go. I’m glad we did because it made us feel a lot better, however, we were completely wrong. It turned out to be one of those language barrier things again.
Fortunately we met a nice couple in the marina from Great Britain. John and Laura were on the final leg back home to Great Britain on the Rainmaker. They had been traveling for about 2 years and seemed ready to return home. John had a solid lead on where to go for the bullfight and how to get there so we joined forces and headed out as a big team with John taking the role of Chief Navigator.
The walk to the location of the bull fight was all up hill. We passed through downtown and entered a botanical garden in the center of the city. It is a massive, winding garden with stairways and sidewalks going every which way. We kept heading up and up. We finally got to the exit and there was a tall skinny pyramid tower-like structure at the very peak. It was quite an impressive structure. The location of the bullfight street was not too far from here.
We could see a flow of people walking in the general direction we were heading. It was basically a residential neighborhood that happened to be selected for the location of the bullfight. Everything looked normal as we approached until you looked closely. The knee-to-hip level walls separating the street from yards were all extended with add-on wood fences. Any of the metal fences that had the spiky tops were covered with wood forms, I’m guessing that is for someone needing to make a quick jump from the bull.
We were hanging out at the first gathering of people we ran into which happened to be the very beginning of the bull run. Soon a flatbed truck with four large steel containers arrived and a truck-mounted crane began unloading the containers. We are not that perceptive as it turns out. Each container contained a bull. The bulls did not seem particularly happy to be there.
We decided the best course of action would be to move upstream a little bit more. (After some helpful hints and pointing from our new friends from the bull farm) I got a good picture of a young bull fighter who was helping with the unloading process.
As we walked uphill a bit more looking for a safe place to watch from we went past a fountain flowing from a sidewalk sculpture. It was a lion’s head with a flow out of its’ mouth into a little catch dish. We noticed There was quite a crowd around the fountain and people were filling their plastic cups from it. Somehow the lion was now spewing beer from its’ mouth and everyone was excited to help the beer not go to waste. The fountains producing beer may help to explain the jubilant atmosphere surrounding the bull-on-a-rope event.
Many vendors walked the streets hawking their wares. One of the popcorn and candy vendors had a particularly colorful display.
Not far past the beer fountain we ran across a big steel gate leading to a courtyard packed full of people. When we arrived there were television cameras filming interviews of a bunch of guys sitting at some tables up front. It turns out that the guys were like real bull fighters and what we would consider to be national heros. The crowd was all gathered in the private home courtyard of one of these people and they seemed happy to have a crowd around so we all joined in. Charlie happened to meet the son of the owners of the house and he invited us to stay so we felt quite welcome.
When the flares went off signifying the release of the bulls the steel gates closed and we ended up with great “seats” right behind the steel gates. We were very safe (I felt) behind the steel fence as the bulls passed by us.
After the bull event we headed back into downtown. By this time the festivities were real starting to heat up. We ran across a crowd following a group of singers and guys playing some instruments. They had gathered at the steps of a church in a semi-circle. The gents with the guitars formed a ring behind the singers who took turns singing a slow ballad-type song solo with a very light background music. It was not a happy dance type of festival, it was more somber and slow. We all enjoyed the event and followed the crowd down the street to the next stop. They began the same routine and the same set all over again. We decided to get some food.
John and Laura joined us for dinner at a nice steak place in downtown. After dinner we wandered back towards the marina and through all of the street festivities. The streets were now lit and people were beginning to come out. The area around the marina was full of activity and vendors were selling food and drinks. The band was not scheduled to start for another hour or so and I decided to hang it up. From the boat, I heard the band crank up about an hour later and as it turns out, it was the same guys we had followed on the street. Only this time each solo was longer, like way longer. Each singer was given 20-30 minutes for their solo. Although I still did not understand the language, I could tell it was not a happy tale they were telling.
I hope that this singing was the beginning of a long story that would be shared again over the course of the festival. I also hoped that eventually There would be a happy ending to the tale…