The next island we head for is Graciosa, “the White Island.” It has been classified by UNESCO as a World Biosphere Reserve and it is the second smallest island in the Azores archipelago, roughly eight miles long and five miles wide. It is also the birthplace of my great-grandfather, Antonio de Mello.

My great- grandfather was born in the village of Vila da Praia in 1868 and one of eight sons, and the only one to raise his family in the Bermuda Islands. His youngest brother, Thomaz de Melo, stayed on the island of his birth and his descendants still live in the Azores, although not all on Graciosa island.

I stayed in my cousin Tommy’s house, located on the main street facing the beach. Tommy’s nephew and another of my cousins, Victor, flew over from Terceira to open the house for us and to visit with us for the weekend. It was our first time meeting, but by the time I left, I felt like I’d known him forever. He was family. Tommy’s home is one full of memories. It’s a big home with three bedrooms still furnished from the 50s. I slept on the third floor, which was Tommy‘s old childhood bedroom and I left the windows open because there’s no air conditioner in the home, just the air from the outside. I fell asleep to the sound of the sea each night, which lulled me peacefully to slumber. It was just an amazing experience… and there is NO mosquitos, nor gnats on the island!

We had arrived on the island on Friday and spent the afternoon having a cappuccino at the cafe steps away from the front door of the house. Dinner with Victor was at a local restaurant steps away from the water. We met several family members walking to dinner – cousins of some degree or another, descendants of brothers who never left the island. We also learned it was the weekend for the celebration of the Holy Spirit Festival, which promised to be lots of fun, as well as affording the possibility of making the acquaintance of more cousins.

Saturday, we drove around the island and ventured to the site of an active, but dormant volcano. Furna do Enxofre (Sulphur Cave) is located in the Calderia da Graciosa, the volcanic crater which is classified as a regional natural monument. We decided to walk down to the entrance of the cave which was about 200 steps down the side of the crater. Once down, we saw the welcome center… and the road we could have driven down, which would have been welcomed a short time later. We went inside to learn that the air was safer to breath today… low sulphur gases being released, probably still not a good idea for a severe asthmatic, but as I am not one to back out of an adventure, I said why not… low sulphur … my asthma should be fine.

What the hell was I thinking?!

It’s a winding staircase down. Carol backs out as soon as she looks over the edge of the stairwell wall… it’s a loooooong way down and she doesn’t do heights. There are men clinging to the side of the crater trimming trees and letting the branches fall…it takes a minute to hear the crash. Me and Don continue the decent, trying to count the stairs as we climb down. It’s dizzying going around and around… think Repunzel’s tower. We finally reach the bottom and there is a huge lake at the bottom, beneath the rock overhang. We have to keep to a narrow walkway for safety because it’s very slippery. You can feel the heat, and there is a faint smell of sulphur, although it’s not over powering. We walk to the end of the walkway and I notice bubbling mud… what is this mess? I thought this was an inactive volcano.

“No,” Don reminds me. “It’s a dormant one.”

“Well, that doesn’t look dormant to me,” I said. “Didn’t some volcano erupt a few days ago? Maybe this one is next.”

I start heading back up. OMG! I have to stop every couple of turns… it takes forever. I’m sweating and panting like a damn race horse and there’s no prize at the end. It was 190 steps down and 190 steps up. I finally make it back to the welcome area, only to discover there is no water anywhere. Not a fountain, a bottle to buy or even a tap in the bathroom. I’m dying here, working hard to hold back the asthma attack that is trying to surface and I still have to climb the 200 steps back up the side of the mountain to get to the damn parking lot! Cursing why didn’t we see the damn driveway down! I swear I am done with the adventures today! Finally, back at the car, we find the bottles of water we brought. Had I known I was going to be descending to the center of the earth, I would have taken one with me… rest assure I’ve added that to my volcano exploration checklist for the next crater I descend.

Victor has arranged for us to meet another cousin. Leonora de Melo, a granddaughter of another of my great-grandfather’s brothers. It was a wonderful visit. She shared many photos and stories, and took us to the cemetery to look at the family graves that were still there, including Victor’s grandfather and my great-grand uncle, Thomas de Melo.

In the evening, we went to another local village who was hosting the “running of the bulls.” What a fun evening! It was a carnival-like atmosphere, with food and drinks being sold… if you have the opportunity to try Super Bock, do so. It’s a Portuguese beer and absolutely delicious! There was also an auction selling pigs and of course, the bulls. They had four young bulls, which they released separately with them tied to a rope so they couldn’t run away. They had plenty of cowboys on hand to control the bulls so that no one, bull or human, would be injured. Young men would taunt the bulls to try to get them to charge at them like a bull fighter. It was a fascinating tradition to watch.

The next night, in the same little village, they held the community feast in the middle of the town, right in the street. The evening was a wonderful tradition where they have a communal meal, feeding everybody in the community together. The menu included a simple, but absolutely amazing cabbage and potato soup, then a main dish of pork. Wine, juice and bread were also offered. Everyone was having a good time, enjoying each other’s company. I met more cousins, including Victor’s sister, Manuela, who flew in from Tereceria, as well. Her daughter lives on Graciosa so she was visiting her for the weekend too. I also met a U.S. Navy sailor named Paul, who was on the USS Midway during the Regan years during the Iran hostage crisis After he left the Navy, we came back to Graciosa where he was born.

After the evening was wrapping up, we were invited by Antonio, a cousin of Tommy’s wife, to come back to his adega – his wine making cellar – to see his 200-year-old wine press and to sample some of the different alcohols he makes. What a great way to end the evening with friends!