Surf’s up in Santo Cristo
Stunning Azorean island has volcanoes, surfing and some of the world’s finest cheeses
FAJA DO SANTO CRISTO, PORTUGAL— Those who want to visit Faja do Santo Cristo are faced with precious few options — getting to this picturesque place is far from easy.
Lining a long-ago lava flow, this diminutive community, where as many as 350 villagers once made a remote life around a pretty church next to the sea, is a long hike — or a relatively short ATV ride — from the closest paved road.
Which is why I’m clinging awkwardly — for dear life, an observer might say — to a man I just met.
Casting away all macho pretensions (and my usual conceptions of ideal personal space), I hang onto driver David Moreira as we roar along a dirt path that undulates — out onto a faja, back into a bay, over and over again — skirting cliffs and staring down at the crashing waves some 70 metres below us.
Next to me, a third man, my guide, Tiago Marques, rides sidesaddle on a piece of wooden decking designed to carry cargo, showing remarkable balance and looking a little like the Queen of England at some downmarket jubilee.
Rolling forward, the steeple of the church in Santo Cristo appears on the horizon, and I begin to relax, just moments before I hear the ATV’s tires slip, just a little bit, toward the edge of the cliff.
With the vehicle now descending a steep grade, I renew my whiteknuckle grip, leaning forward and, over the noise, bark a question into Moreira’s ear — will we be OK? “Oh yes!” Moreira responds sunnily, seemingly oblivious to the danger that prompted my question. “No need to fear — it’s a beautiful day!”
I’m on the Azorean island of Sao Jorge, seeking both adrenalinepumping adventure — and famous cheese. Home to one of the wildest landscapes in the North Atlantic, volcanoes line the spine of this long and skinny island, creating a green monster — the island’s official symbol is a dragon — with ridges that reach to the clouds and cliffs that plunge straight into the sea.
But its defining feature are the faja. Created by lava flows and rock slides created by eruptions that took place as much as 600,000 years ago, dozens of these cling to the sides of the island. With much of the main mass of Sao Jorge too high and cold and cloudy for a comfortable life, many of the island’s less-than 10,000 residents still carve out their existence on the tops of the faja.
Together with Marques, who works for local adventure company AvenTour, we explore, driving up through the middle of the island, over skyscraping ridges, through Shire-like lands bursting with green and cloaked in mist, a fantasy world where white stallions graze in the clouds and both black stone walls and hedgerows of hydrangeas separate the fields.
And we see cows — everywhere. Dairy cows, which produce topnotch milk, which is kept raw and unpasteurized and is, in turn, churned into some of the very best semihard cheese in the world. Like Champagne or Chardonnay (or Roquefort), Sao Jorge cheese can only be produced here, under very specific conditions.
“The farmers bring their milk direct to us,” Pedro Mauricio, a factory worker and guide, explains as we, outfitted in shower caps and booties and lab coats, tour the cheese factory, which sits just above Velas, the island’s main town.
All the milk comes from 120 farmers on Sao Jorge, and while the factory is automated, many aspects of the cheese-making process hearken to the past, including the arduous task of flipping each wheel by hand on a monthly basis to ensure equal maturation, a process we observe as we stroll through a massive room with 5,000 wheels lining the walls and shelves.
Back on the ATV, that wild beauty unfolds around us as we arrive, safe and sound, in Faja do Santo Cristo. Thankful to be back on firm ground, we wander, slightly stiff-legged, past a waterfall and into town, Moreira pointing out little dwellings that look a bit like hobbit houses that, he says, sat abandoned for decades. Now renovated, he calls them “surf houses” — places rented for days, or weeks by those who come here seeking one of the best surf breaks in the Azores.
He adds that, while this place was a longtime ghost town, both locals and the island government have realized the value of this secluded spot and others like it, capping new development, restricting any new homes, to preserve the past. Moreira’s family came to this knowledge earlier, buying a place overlooking the sea way back in 1988, which he’s taken over and run for the last 12 years as the Caldeira Surf Camp, which sometimes also hosts yoga and meditation retreats.
It’s a remarkably beautiful spot, right on the ocean, the sheer cliffs camouflaged in dense greenery climbing away sharply behind it. “People come to Sao Jorge for the faja — and this is the most special one,” he says.
We pass a lagoon, where I see a single, lone snorkeler, then arrive at the house, a handsome two-storey stone house with big rooms outfitted with bunk beds. Sitting down on a little patio, Moreira emerges with a mess of clams, which he’s procured from the lagoon. At first I think he’s harvested them himself. “Oh no, I buy from the local fishermen, and then everybody’s happy!”
After finishing the whole bowl of clams, and downing a little too much wine, I settle into well-worn, overstuffed chair overlooking the ocean, quickly nodding off in a matter of seconds. Too soon, I stir, viewing everything — the big blue rollers crashing on the rugged shore, a couple of guests arriving and selecting their surfboards — through a fog of sleep, deciding that I like this place, very much, this far-off faja, and a very special corner of surfer’s paradise. Tim Johnson was a guest of Turismo dos Acores, which did not review or approve this story.