Cape Verde

In 2018, a research expedition took Chris to the islands of Santiago and Fogo. Located just under 600 kilometers off the coast of West Africa, Cape Verde is a destination that often takes a back seat to the European vacation islands of Madeira and the Canary Islands. But while Madeira is thoroughly Portuguese and the Canary Islands are distinctly Spanish, Cape Verde offers a unique blend of Portuguese heritage and African spirit.

Barren lunar landscapes, so surreally beautiful that you fall in love with them at first sight. Dreamlike sandy beaches and the crisp Atlantic air. A country caught between a colonial past and the search for its own identity. Cracks on the surface, cracks between people, cracks within society. Cracks that are healing or still run deep.

Cape Verde offers far more than just a beach vacation and a bit of hiking. In a very small space, the country shows just how complex, contradictory, and fascinating Africa can be.

Smiling in Praia

Praia is a sleepy capital, shrouded in the humid mist of the Atlantic. The coastline and the cityscape, the lives of its people and their culture – all are shaped by the sea. Palm trees grow on the sparse, rocky ground. The houses are painted green and blue, in the colors of seaweed and water. No crowds, but a constant sense of togetherness, like the never-ending murmur of the ocean.

The cruel legacy of the slave trade is deeply etched into the island. As a memorial to that era, the marble post – the pillory where rebellious slaves were chained and whipped – stands in the harbor of Cidade Velha. From here, ships once sailed toward the American colonies, filled with people.

Instead of the slave trade, industrial zones now define the outskirts of Praia. The Coca-Cola Company operates a factory here, and Macau Legend Development Ltd. once planned to build a casino nearby. Economic growth comes at a price – and in Cape Verde, too, the question arises: who will ultimately pay it?

Woman in Cape Verde
Hiking in Cape Verde
Cross at the Edge of Praia
Streets of Praia
Street Dog in Praia
Foggy Praia

The Cape Verdeans often go about their day with serious expressions. They seem friendly, yet reserved at the same time. As soon as Chris waves at them, pulls out his camera, and asks to take a photo, their expressions brighten and broad smiles appear on their faces. The facade crumbles, and suddenly silent communication becomes possible. Were it not for the language barrier of Portuguese, countless conversations and encounters would surely take place.

It is impressive to see the optimism with which the people on these small islands in the middle of the Atlantic defy life’s adversities often out of necessity. For opportunities in Cape Verde are limited. There are few jobs and economic prospects. Many therefore leave the islands, seek work abroad, and regularly send money back to their families.

Those who do not work in tourism or public administration often have few alternatives besides fishing. People have learned to make do with little while still maintaining their dignity and zest for life.

Father and Son in Praia
Old Lady in Praia
Boy in Cape Verde

At the small airport in Praia, the capital, we board a turboprop plane. With a hum and a buzz, we take off shortly thereafter, and even the short flight to the neighboring island of Fogo is an experience in itself. No sooner are we in the air than the massive volcanic cone of Pico do Fogo rises before us – the destination of our expedition and research trip.

Once we arrive on Fogo, we follow a winding road up into the gigantic volcanic crater, the caldera. For Fogo itself is essentially a single supervolcano. The massive caldera we are now entering was formed by a colossal eruption thousands of years ago. Within this ancient crater, a new volcanic cone later formed, complete with its own crater – the Pico do Fogo.

The volcano last erupted in 2014, flooding two small villages with lava. Although the government prohibited resettlement within the caldera, this did not stop many people from returning shortly thereafter and settling once again on the cooled lava rock. The land here is dangerous and unpredictable. At the same time, it is home to those who want to go nowhere else – or cannot.

Binter Canarias
Road to Pico do Fogo
Casa Marisa on Fogo
Pico do Fogo

The wind is blowing, and up here at an altitude of nearly 2,000 meters, the air is hazy. Clouds drift low overhead. Before us lies one of the most bizarre landscapes imaginable. The caldera is surrounded by a steep cliff face that rises over 1,000 meters at some points. The ground beneath our feet is black – fine dust from volcanic rock. The old road we came up on disappears beneath a field of black basalt. The tops of the houses that were swallowed up during the 2014 eruption still protrude from the ground.

There is hardly any vegetation here – only a few sparse bushes and some yellow grass defy the hostile environment. Like an ominous giant, Pico do Fogo rises above us and casts its shadow over the caldera. Its peak is often hidden in fog. A capricious god who could be seized by a desire for destruction at any moment.

The people who returned after the last eruption have built new homes: simple dwellings made of stone and concrete. There is no regular power grid, no reliable water supply or sewage system. Instead, diesel generators hum in the silence of the volcanic landscape. Children play among the ruins of the old houses, and stray animals roam about.

Pico do Fogo
Pico do Fogo
Cat on Fogo
Kids Playing on Fogo
Boys Digging on Fogo
Hound in Fogo
Man in a Landcruiser on Fogo
Dog in Fogo

Early morning. The sky behind Pico do Fogo glows with the colors of burning embers. We’ve already reached the foot of the volcano and are setting out on the ascent. Two guides rush ahead, leaping effortlessly from rock to rock like mountain goats. The road becomes a trail, and the trail becomes a via ferrata. The climb is steep, yet the route is manageable. The colors of the morning shift from blue to gold. Finally, the sun breaks through the clouds and over the rim of the caldera, warming our sweaty faces.

Eventually, we make it and stand on the roof of the world. Below us lies a sea of thick clouds, into which the caldera abruptly plunges. Beyond it stretches the Atlantic Ocean, and – from as high as we stand – it almost seems possible to see all the way to Africa, Europe, or even America. The earth curves, and for a brief moment, there is no higher point than this.

The volcanic crater, on the edge of which we stand, spews a foul sulfuric stench toward us. At any moment, we expect to see its maw tear open and glowing lava shoot upward. But everything remains calm. Only the wind tugs at our jackets and whistles over the black rock.

The walk back to the village in the caldera takes barely ten minutes. The southwestern slope of Pico is covered by a fine layer of powdery lava dust. We let ourselves fall and land softly on the scorched rock. Like an avalanche, we hurtle toward the valley, racing down the steep slope in giant leaps and feeling completely weightless for a few moments.

Pico do Fogo
Dogs at Pico do Fogo
Sea of Cloud around Fogo
Pico do Fogo
Pico do Fogo
Pico do Fogo
Pico do Fogo
Pico do Fogo

By the afternoon, my legs ache from the hike. The only bar in the caldera is an open hut made of concrete blocks. They serve Chã, the local red or white wine. The vines struggle to grow on the stony volcanic soil. Yet the winemakers brave the wind, the weather, and the harsh conditions to create something of their own up here.

The truth is: in terms of taste, the wine is hardly impressive. And yet, here and now, in this dry hut with a view of the majestic Pico do Fogo, there could be no better drink. This wine tastes of fire and stone, of salt, sea, and wind. It tastes of passion. It tastes of the attempt to bring life to a barren landscape that, at first glance, seems hostile to life. Above all, however, it tastes of the unyielding optimism and will to live of the people who inhabit the caldera.

A group of musicians joins us, joking and laughing. They play Portuguese songs and melodies from their Creole ancestors. Their instruments are out of tune, their voices rough and full of life. Slowly, the world begins to blur a little. Outside, heavy rain clouds roll over the volcanic slopes, but in here, amid wine, music, and laughter, everything seems perfect.

Musicians at Pico do Fogo
Musicians at Pico do Fogo
Musicians at Pico do Fogo
Cape Verde Game

We hitchhike down from the Caldera to the island’s capital, São Filipe. The police give us a ride – and later take us back as well.

We meet the mayor of the city and talk with him about economic development and the difficult housing policy within the caldera. Afterward, we stroll through the wide streets of São Filipe. The houses look simple: some plastered and painted in bright colors, others half-finished shells – more like construction sites than homes. There is a church and a soccer field, a few simple hotels and restaurants, a small market hall, and scattered kiosks.

We encounter only a few people, practically no tourists at all. Most vacationers in Cape Verde are drawn to the beaches and hotel resorts of Sal or Boa Vista. Fogo, on the other hand, remains rugged, quiet, and unspoiled – and that is precisely why it is a true hidden gem.

Igreja Nossa Senhora da Conceição
São Filipe
Smiling in São Filipe

At Ponta da Salina, we come across a group of fishermen. They have just returned from their morning trip and have already pulled their boats ashore and unloaded them. The nets lie rolled up in the sand, and the day’s catch is neatly spread out. The men stand together, smoking and chatting quietly.

Everywhere on the island, life seems to move at a slower pace. There is hardly any hustle and bustle here; time feels less like a resource and more like a philosophy of life. Yesterday is like today, and tomorrow will be no different. Cut off from the rest of the world, on a rock in the middle of the vast Atlantic, many things suddenly shrink to an insignificant speck.

Fisherman in São Filipe
Fishernet in São Filipe
Fisher Boats in São Filipe
Red Fishes in Cape Verde

The sun is shining from a deep blue sky as we leave Fogo on the turboprop plane. Out here in the Atlantic, the weather changes by the hour. Just moments ago, heavy rain clouds hung over the volcanic slopes, but now, a short time later, rays of sunshine are already breaking through the gray.

After the quiet days in the caldera, Praia on Santiago seems almost like a metropolis to us. Suddenly, we see people and colors everywhere. Even here, in the middle of the city, nature seems exuberant and wild. In a simple roadside restaurant, we eat sea snails with spicy sauce and drink Cape Verdean beer. We toast our final evening. We raise our bottles to this simple meal, a gift from the ocean. We toast this beautiful country, scattered almost forgotten off the coast of Africa in the Atlantic.

There may be no other island quite like Fogo. Life in the volcanic crater is strikingly simple and defined by fire, ash, and rock. The people live off the sea and its bounty, from viticulture on volcanic soil, and from whatever they can wrest from the harsh natural environment. On other islands, such as Sal or Boa Vista, however, luxury resorts line endless dream beaches. There, the perfect image of a tropical vacation exists. Meanwhile, the government on Santiago is trying to attract other industries and economic sectors alongside tourism. Progress and prosperity come at a price. And so the question remains: how much longer can Cape Verde preserve the rugged authenticity that makes this country so special?

Info about our trip