Pico Island

So I visited the island of Pico, It is called Pico, because of the peak on top the the peak of the volcano. I stayed with my grandfathers niece Maria Nunes. I feel Maria's goal in life is to make people fat. She would always stuff me until I felt I was gonna explode, Maria knows the word no, but does not understand it when you say it to her. She was sweet, tough, independant, smart and loving and I'm lucky we are family. Here is Maria with her daughter Connie. Connie and her husband took me all over Pico to all the different soupas (soupas include, soggy bread, baked meat, carne asada and for dessert- rice pudding...AMAZING). There was a fesitival going on while I was there, the festival of The Holy Spirit, and in honor of the Holy Spirit they have mass, a procession, they make thousands of different loaves of sweet breads and then hand them out to passer-bys or they go house to house, and of course there is the soupas- the food. And may I inform you that each town does this, on different days, so I ate a processed a lot. < a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e24b0aT5iiU/TCIS5P4owaI/AAAAAAAAAUc/6mqrGfsY2T8/s1600/DSC00109.JPG">My grandfather was born in Pico and I had the most emotional privilage of seeing the house he grew up in, I miss him terribly. This me wearing his shirt in front of his house and this is was his view. a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e24b0aT5iiU/TCIXDwtG_uI/AAAAAAAAAU8/6ArIPdSWM4U/s1600/DSC00043.JPG">
My favorite thing about Pico, besides the incredible views and how calm it was, the people. Here's a story for you. My cousins were taking me back to the ferry so I could catch it back to my house on the island Terciera. Now the ferry schedules are not regular so you take what you can get, and if you miss one it could be anywhere from a couple days to more than a week till you can catch the ferry to your desired location. Back to the story, my cousins and I were 15 minuets outside to the port where I was to catch the ferry when Maria Nunes called them to let them know I had left my wallet at her house. CRAP. We did not have time to drive back to Terra do Pao (where she lives) to get my wallet and then make it back to the ferry. So my cousin Laura, called her sister, her sister called a cab driver, so he could drive to Maria Nunes' house to get my wallet and meet us. The cab driver was not home, but his wife offered to get in her truck drive to Marias, pick up my wallet and bring it to me. And while I was waiting for my wallet Lauras sister also called the ferry to see if there was a way to delay it, in the event I was late. I got wallet, I knew I didn't have to check it, and felt guilty that I did.
Pico, you will always have my heart.