On the island of Santo Antão, Cape Verde, silence can descend with startling intensity. One moment, you’re jostling in the back of a rumbling pick-up truck, heading towards the island’s rugged highlands. The next, you’re at the base of a cliff, the taxi long gone, and the world is enveloped in a profound, almost oppressive quiet. This silence is not just a lack of sound but a powerful presence that contrasts sharply with the island’s usual cacophony.
Santo Antão is the northwesternmost of Cape Verde’s ten islands and is renowned for its dramatic landscapes and vibrant, sometimes chaotic, ambiance. Situated about 350 nautical miles off the West African coast, Cape Verde is a nation of contrasts—both geographically and culturally. The islands are known for their energetic music, from the soulful morna to the lively funaná, and their natural elements: the relentless trade winds, the crashing Atlantic waves, and the swaying sugarcane and banana palms. But amidst this constant sensory input, Santo Antão offers moments of stillness that reveal a more profound aspect of its character—a place seemingly isolated and raw, a far cry from the more familiar images of Cape Verde’s flat, sun-soaked beaches.
Cape Verde, with its volcanic origins, has always been a land of extremes. Discovered by the Portuguese in 1458, the islands were initially uninhabited but strategically important. Cape Verde soon became a crucial hub in the transatlantic slave trade, a grim chapter that shaped its demographics and culture. Over the centuries, the islands were populated by a mix of Africans, Jews, Portuguese, and other Europeans, all contributing to the unique Creole culture of Cape Verde. The islanders’ resilience is reflected in their way of life, shaped by both the harsh natural environment and historical adversities.
When Cape Verde gained independence from Portugal in 1975, it emerged with a distinct cultural identity. The official language is Portuguese, but the local vernacular is Cape Verdean Kriolu. This blend of influences is evident in the islanders’ way of life, characterized by the concepts of morabeza (warmth and hospitality) and sodade (a deep sense of longing). These concepts encapsulate the islanders’ connection to their homeland and their experience of living away from it, as many Cape Verdeans have migrated abroad in search of better opportunities.
My journey to Santo Antão begins in Mindelo, the port town on the neighboring island of São Vicente. Mindelo, once a bustling coal port, is now a vibrant town with a colorful palette of buildings and a lively atmosphere. The streets are alive with activity: joggers, fishermen, and locals going about their daily routines. The market is a sensory overload, with vibrant fruits and vegetables, and the occasional commotion when a mouse darts out from a stall. The town’s murals, including a large image of Cesária Évora, Cape Verde’s celebrated morna singer, add to the vibrant scene.
After spending a night in Mindelo, I board a ferry to Santo Antão. The contrast between the two islands is striking. The ferry docks, and a taxi takes me through a barren, arid landscape to Pombas on the island’s east coast. The road is a stark reminder of the island’s rugged terrain. But as soon as I begin my hike inland, the landscape transforms dramatically. The valley of Ribeira do Paúl bursts into life, overflowing with greenery. Sugarcane, bananas, and other crops thrive in this verdant paradise, juxtaposed against the rugged, mountainous backdrop.
The hike to Pico de Antónia, a small hamlet perched high in the hills, is challenging but rewarding. The path ascends through terraced fields and past locals engaged in traditional activities—sifting volcanic ash for cement, cracking almonds, and harvesting spring onions. The valley begins to resemble a verdant Machu Picchu, with its stepped fields climbing higher and higher. At the summit, I encounter Alcinda Fonceca, who runs a café in Pico de Antónia. Her café, perched on the edge of a precipice, offers breathtaking views and coffee made from beans grown right in the valley below. The experience is enhanced by Alcinda’s warm hospitality and the spectacular scenery.
The hike ends at O Curral in Chã de João Vaz, where I sample local homemade grogue, a potent rum distilled from sugarcane. Santo Antão is renowned for its grogue, with Paúl being particularly famous for producing some of the best. The drink is smooth yet powerful, and a perfect way to unwind after a day of hiking.
My exploration continues in Ponta do Sol, a charming old town at the island’s northern tip. Here, I visit Cantinho da Música, a local bar known for its lively atmosphere and delicious xtomperod—a blend of grogue and honey liqueur. The evening is filled with music and local cuisine, creating an inviting ambiance that draws me into a spontaneous singalong.
Reyder dos Santos, a local hiking guide, shares insights into the significance of music in Cape Verdean culture. He explains that music is as integral to their lives as food, and reflects the island’s emotional landscape. Santo Antão’s harsh environment seems to forge a deep connection between its people and their land, encapsulating the essence of sodade.
As I sip my xtomperod and join in the singing, I reflect on the duality of Santo Antão—its moments of overwhelming silence juxtaposed with its vibrant, musical life. The island’s raw beauty and cultural richness leave a lasting impression, revealing Cape Verde as a place where the elements shape not just the landscape but the very soul of its people.
