Gate-crashing at an Espirito Santo fiesta and hot steam from Purgatory

We're off at 9am, speeding east along the South coast. A rugged coastline, tidy white-washed fishing villages. North to Praia da Vitória where we meet a few thousand children down at the harbor. All with new caps, red, yellow or blue and one-size t-shirts, now tunics down to their sneakers on the first graders. It's "Children's Day" in Praia and the schools are invading the beaches in two squiggly lines. Games, wet sand, soda and ice cream seem to be their plan.
We also meet the Danish boat, Pi, last seen in the Canaries. They are also on their way to Ireland now.

So, on to Bisqoitos. First a stop at an overlook and natural tidal pools. Some workmen are busy helping nature out with quite a lot of cement. Soon a fair sized swimming pool will be nestled in the rough black volcanic rock and white spray of surf here at Pta. do Mistério. Sea temp, about 18 degrees today.
At Bisqoitos we head down to the harbor. We've heard there's a good restaurant there. When we arrive we see a lot of cars and pick-ups parked near the sea. Long tables are full of platters of food. The smell of grilled meat in the air, casks of wine on the pick-up beds. It seems the nearby village of Lajes is celebrating "Espiritu Santo" today. We meet a California-expat, brother-in-law of this year's "mordomo" (emperor), who invites us to join in, and help ourselves! We do. We fill paper plates with grilled meat, homemade bread, meat pies, and other more mysterious dishes. There's a special sweet rice cake decorated in cinnamon with either Holy Spirit doves or a crown for dessert. Remarkably like Norwegian rice pudding. The local red wine from the verdelho grape comes right from the keg. Thank you Lajes for a great meal and a warm welcome!

Back up in Bisquitos we find the Wine Museum, just opened after siesta. Bisqoitos we learn actually comes from "biscuit", a hard, twice-baked bread. The small volcanic rocks that are huddled around the grape vine stock to keep them warm resemble biscuits. So now you know that. The vineyards are all boxed into small stone-walled sections to protect the grapes from the wind and weather. Here the verdelho grape is developed and used in the local wines. There's a good fortified wine, like a Madeira. We know. We sampled it and brought back a sample to "Babette".

And we're off again. Up, along tall cedar trees, to the center of this volcanic island. We wind our way to the steamy hills of Furnas do Enxofre. Hot steam rises from endless black holes in the mossy hillside. Was this supposed to be the entrance to Purgatory? There's a yellow-white baked clay surface, white-green rocks, red and yellow moss in the steamy valley. The steam is hissing on its way out. Think it's time to go.

And why not go further down for a look around? Not here, but at Algar do Carvão, a bit further down the road. Huge caverns wait, 100m down. A big hole in the ground has a vertical drop down to the entrance into a nicely paved cave. We pay three euro to take this short cut instead of rappelling down.
We go through glass doors into a damp dark tunnel. Beyond that we can look straight up, up, up the wet mossy slopes to a round circle of blue sky far above. Then the wet concrete steps wind us downward into the huge cavern. White stalagmites hang and the deep pool, at 4 degrees centigrade, meets us at the bottom. The cave is filled with soft indirect light and spooky pling-plong music which matches the drip-drip-dripping water everywhere. They give concerts here in the largest room, "The Cathedral". Great echo-y acoustics.

Our Pico-weary (still!) legs carry us up the steps and out into the fading daylight. We’ve had an incredible day from Holy Ghost parties to steams from Purgatory. On this, our third Azores island, Terceira.