THE MANY ACTIVITIES OUR ISLAND OFFERS
The name FLORES translates to flowers. Naturally, it
is mainly among this island's flower-lined paths that we'll spend our week away
from the hustle and bustle of the world. Flores & Corvo, are actually
the western tip of theAzores
Archipelage of 9 Islands , and are, like the other seven, a territory
of Portugal. Though small, they possess a rich, long history dating back to the
early age of exploration, and before. Here, an intriguing past sprinkled with
Spanish Galleons, pirates, treasures, whaling and clandestine emigration, have
all interwoven to create the fabric of its poetic
existence.
As we wander the island's ancient footpaths, we'll explore a vast ecological tapestry featuring; a million shades of lush green, volcanoes, 7 lakes, caves, 2 or 3 microclimates, remnants of earthquakes, wildflowers, and hot water springs. We'll consider the history, folklore, customs, mystery, and legends of these 12 villages. The mystery, natural beauty and tranquility of this land will change your concept of the Atlantic... (there are stepping stones in the pond!!)
Here you will breathe the freshest, lightest air on earth - while the Gulf stream's warm, gentle breezes caress your skin. By night, you'll experience the distant galaxies of the Milky Way as a sparkling highway across a crisp black sky. Flores offers the senses a sumptuous feast and its tranquility will remain with you long after you bid its shores 'good bye'. Without a doubt, its enchanted shores, tranquil seclusion and natural simplicity will surely call you back again.
A colorful feast for the senses
In FLORES, July and August fill you with the fresh scent of blue as you walk along ancient hydrangea-lined footpaths. On this little island, all the footpaths inevitably lead to a secluded shore, lapped by an ocean whose saltiness floats your body, and whose gentle rhythms will rock you to sleep at day's end.
In the afternoon sun, western hillsides covered with wild ginger & honey suckle come alive with sweet muskiness and yellow warmth. In August, we'll trek up into the hills to visit the seven craters where we'll pick wild blackberries by their mossy banks. High above the villages, the moss grows tall and velvety green.
In september, our roaming will take us to a remote flat land on the western shore. In a pastoral oceanside meadow, we'll pick figs cracking with ripeness from a giant gnarly tree planted by a man who later emigrated to California in search of gold. Then we'll settle down to watch the sun dance on the waves, and we'll picnic on island cheeses & homemade breads, by the lichen covered walls of a fisherman's hovel that he, (THE 49ER) built as a young man.
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