Green Cape or the Lost Colony

Long, sun burnt beaches run along the coastline. Waves, sometimes metres high crash against the windswept cliffs. Little boys run in and out of the surf on the days when the wind isn’t thrashing about. They giggle, falling and flapping as they play.

Young couples gracing toned limbs, wearing loose cotton slacks, walk under the moonlit sky at dusk while buxom mamas and portly men sit in front of the humble houses, shooting the breeze.

Elderly men play backgammon for hours on end in the village square, looking up from time to time to watch their wives who are absorbed in spoiling their grandchildren.

These are small forgotten islands, lost in the Atlantic. They are but relics of a time gone by. The streets are named after Portuguese explorers and kings long past. The food is a mix of hot, spicy, African dishes and delicate Portuguese desserts.

Green Cape. It sounds like a fairy tale. A beguiling name that conjures up mysteries and dreams. A cape as green as emerald; a sea the colour of sapphire, and skies the shade of deep azure. Music that propels the hips to swing and the feet to tap out a rhythm.

Cape Verde, where one could lose their mind but find their soul.

Cape Verde, Green Cape.