The attraction of places you have never heard of
Trip Start
Oct 03, 1993
1
64
73
Trip End
Ongoing
Sal,
Cape Verde
Monday, May 7, 2007
I also enjoy flicking through brochures, looking at the pictures of exotic places and planning my next trip. Well, I say "next". At any one time I generally have about four or five holidays booked up, so it's the next trip after those.
So, all this is to explain how I ended up in Cape Verde. I opened the brochure, saw the name and thought "I've never heard of that - I HAVE to go there".
Possibly the greatest joy of going somewhere obscure is watching people's faces when you tell them where you're going. "Cape Verde?" they say, struggling valiantly, before asking "Where's that again?". Better still is when I explain that "It's a group of islands off the west coast of Africa. Close to Senegal and The Gambia". Some people know where these countries are, but those that that don't nod sagely anyway.
(I had similar fun with Montenegro - most people seemed to think that it would be in Asia. But that's for another blog).
So, with only the most cursory of investigations, I proceded to book my trip. When it got to the point where Cape Verde was the next trip that I would take, I started to investigate Trip Advisor a bit more closely. At first I was slightly horrified, but then the rationalisation process began and by the time I came to pack I was looking forward to journey. Oh yes.
The sales pitch for Cape Verde is that it is like the Caribbean, but so much closer (if you're travelling from Europe that is). Well, it is closer, I'll given them that, but I can't honestly say that it compares with a Caribbean Island by any stretch of the imagination. That doesn't mean that it isn't worth visiting, but it does mean that you shouldn't expect the lush tropical vegetation or a sophisticated tourist trade. For many people the latter is an advantage. First and foremost, the islands are very windy, indeed, they were once a vital stop on trade routes across the Atlantic. As a result, large areas look a bit like the surface of the moon, with just a few wind-whipped and scrubby bushes punctuating the landscape. One thing that the burgeoning tourist industry will bring, I hope, is some lateral thinking about how to introduce plant life that can survive the winds and lack of water. Around out hotel, a low lying succulent had been planted in areas that elsewhere mught be grassy. The effect was to add a pleasing splash of green without requiring endless maintenance.
The hotel that we stayed in - the Riu Garopa was huge - in fact, I think that it was at this hotel that I realised how much I dislike huge hotels. If nothing else it means that there are always some last minute rooms available on the cheap and that in turns means that you always have to share with the knd of person who can only afford a last minute break on the cheap. Common people. Go ahead, call me snobby, because I am. I also find that large hotels can only ever cater on a massed scale, which means buffets. Nice in principle, but larger ones always have something of the air of a cafeteria and - as here in Cape Verde - you often find that the food isn't properly protected from flies. The puddings definitely weren't and so I didn't have any all week. For the rest of the food, I could only hope. (My stomach survived the experience, so I take that as a good sign). The other problem is that you can't get decent wine for love nor money. If you think that taking your wine from a large barrell with a pump is perfectly acceptable, then I wil now come across as a nit-picking wine-snob. Which I am. They raised my hopes by offering "champagne" every evening. It wasn't champagne, but a horrendously sweet sparkling wine. If you like your white wine dry (or frankly, even medium dry) you won't want to drink any here as the local taste is decidedly sweet. My final nit-pick about large hotels is their tendency to play music round the pool. I hate it with a passion. Never in a million years are they going to play music that I like, but in truth, even if they plugged my own iPod into their sound system, and set it on 'favourites' I still wouldn't like it. I want to hear the sea, the bird, to enjoy the peace and quiet. If talk of lavish buffets, wine on tap and music by the pool sounds agreeable to you, then Riu Garopa is going to make you happy. I only have nice things to say about it now: The pools are large, the rooms are spacious and nicely decorated and there are plenty of beds around the pools.
It's been a couple of years now since my visit, so I'd like to hope that smaller, boutique style hotels may also have got a look in.
So, what about exploring the island? Well, we did a day out on a grand tour and it was a bit hilarious when the firdt stop was a complex of new homes for foreign investors next to a toursit feature: A pool - made out of the stuff swimming pools are made of, but about 2m by 1m and occupied by a couple of sad-looking turtles. Apparently it was a sanctuary... We were travelling in a 4x4 at breakneck speed until we got a harbour. Here we at last saw a bit of real local life, although I think that tourists were as much under scrutiny as the locals. Our driver next tested our nerves by piling up a steep gravel track (no barriers, natch) at full welly. He slowed once, breifly, to drop a gear for the final acsent and on the loose gravel we could almost have slid back down again. (Actually, we'd have only slid back to tha last haripin. I'm pretty sure that we would have rolled the rest of th way). At the top we had views of the town - and further out the slums. Real slums, like you see on the Nine O'Clock news. Poor sods. From the hill top, we wre taken into town and made a "confort stop" as a local cafe. For me, working plumbing provides the kind of "comfort" I'm looking for. Still, it was fascinating to sit and watch life go by. From the cafe, that is, not the khazi. The final stage of our grand island tour was in the north of the island, a volcano which iss flooded by seawater oozing up from below. Well, from alongside reallym as it is at sea level. There is nowhere for it to drain so it just evaporates - getting saltier all the time. At one time, the salt was farmed but isn't now, at least not on any commecial basis, but it is open to swimmers. A few years ago we visited the Dead Sea and well remember how revoltingly sticky we felt when got out. Looking at the squelchy mud, we decided to let other swim and instead tried to do some photographic justice to the sight of the sun setting over this lunar landscape. Those who swam had paid CV$100 for a shower, which turned out to be a hose applied from above by the tour guide. Ha ha ha!!
