We arrived, I tripped, I did the washing

Today is the first stop in the islands of Cape Verde. They're a set of small volcanic islands, which, as with the Canaries, range in age as you travel around the archipelago. 

The youngest is called Fogo which last erupted in 2014, so is still very active, closely monitored and always ready to grow more.

We start our sojourn at Porto Grande. 

This is one of the most populated and from the talks we'd had, I got the impression it was smaller than it actually was. There were signs of potential affluence creeping in but the general population were still close to the bread line.

Let's put it this way, I saw very few obese people in the town.

I enjoyed a natter with a lady I'd met earlier until it was time to go, then joined the ranks of mini bus 16 to begin our exploration of the town highlights and culture, followed by a trip through the landscape of the island finishing at Horseshoe Bay for a swim, coffee and nibbles.

Sounded wonderful but things started to go awry when 3 people who for some reason decided they didn't need to go through the process of being told which bus went where, had just picked one.....the wrong ones!!

That took 25 minutes to unpick in the middle of the town.

We then went to the quayside and I watched a couple of fishermen gutting the fish. Now that was fascinating. 

The tin can was the best bit though. Someone had had the brilliant idea of taking an empty tuna can, knocking holes through the bottom so it left jagged edges pointing down through the bottom, then used it to scrap the large fish, quickly and efficiently. 

So then there was a lengthy wait as the ship's tour guide (who by this time was in need of a drink) and the tour guide from the local company attempted to agree on the itinery.

A gentleman and I propped up a barrier and took in the sun and the engaging disagreement which was becoming more interesting by the minute.

What we had been told and what the tour people had said, failed to navigate the Babble-fish too well....it deteriorated.

We spent two and a half hours of faffing and driving around the town in hops of 100 metres and then stopping before my silence was punctuated by short, pithy quips which made many giggle  but could have been interpreted as genuinely observational. The tour guide had a quiet voice and no amplification,  that didn't help. 

I was good, I retired into a bored stupor. The highlight of the tour? Visiting a man's collection of stuff from the 60s and 70s which he lovingly wrapped up in clingfilm. It ranged from old typewriters, to saws, to paraffin lamps to albums to......

We then went to this acclaimed Horseshoe bay, which is acclaimed for I know not what......

When I got back I found the poor lady in charge of all Ashore tours to warn her, bus 16 was not a happy bus and I was past the point of being angry. My comment was,

"There is a right hand and a left hand but there's nobody in the middle."

Well, at least we didn't have the indignity of breaking down half way up a mountain 😂 but that's another bus.

So, I went and calmed down in the laundrette and did my washing and then the ironing.