O bar Aleixo: 2016

Preamble: Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji (富嶽三十六景 Fugaku Sanjūrokkei), a series of landscape prints by the Japanese ukiyo-e artist Hokusai that depicts Mount Fuji from different locations and in various seasons and weather conditions is much more interesting than these 24 taxi's view around Santiago's Island.

No doubts about that!

Nevertheless, this was a sudden whim: Let's go around the Island!

Tony, fidju fe di mama, it's your turn!

We don't yet know which way to go but contemplates whether to go: left or right?

No worries, this is an island and we'll never go to Ulaanbaatar, where the Mongolian horse continues to be revered as the national symbol, also if they are fast being replaced by motorized vehicles.

As we said; That road was unknown to us. The Chofer takes all decisions.

Como sempre, no rádio a "Rosa" do Richard Reis e Djoy Delgado estava a bombar.

Wandering around...O chofer Danisio é boa psoa.

...and if someone answers for directions, it's never a human.

No God here to show the way. We can get lost, Deus d'fende! We're going to lose our way...great!

We look at signs on both sides of the road but there is nothing that we could trust: some rocks, small hills, a man riding a cow, some old acacias but... slowly one finds one's way.

Cidade Velha is on our map. António da Noli who discovered Santiago,"the ancient Hesperides of Pliny and Ptolemy" built there a garrison.

During World War II, an Italian destroyer was named Antonio da Noli.

It's strange how certain names aspire to them all sorts of facts.

Danisio, please, puts that song..."Ngabado ta nterrado" if I do remember, made by Finaçon, speaking of the most important Ribeiras of Santiago (Ribeira Grande, Ribeira dos Engenhos, Ribeira principal, etc.)

It reminds me of the time or a friend was really a friend!

Look at Os Picos, the steep mountains.

The dense moisture condense and soak the plants, rocks, soil, logs, moss etc.

We should come back on October at the end of the rainy season.

Everything is so dry during the time of the winds.

Chofer, stop after the curve and let's have a grogue to break that crust and go further, swallowed by the earth.

I would like my throat sweet as Delicadeza.

O grogu ca bô mata cabverdiano.

Cocteau said something like that:"These days, we are travelling the world at a high speed like a fly who flies around an orange and no one goes much further than the peel". Cocteau never had a grogue...

He also said:"A poet is in a way a work-hand whose act engages a self-more profound than himself...which he doesn't know too well...mysterious forces which inhabit him and which he knows poorly".