Craig,

As I write this, I’m sitting in Mindelo, a vibrant port city on the island of São Vicente in Cape Verde, and I’m missing you more than words can truly express. It’s Christmas time, and while I’m surrounded by incredible beauty and warmth, there’s a space beside me that should be filled by you. The sun is setting over the Atlantic, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink that I wish you could see with your own eyes. But perhaps, one day, you will.

Let me tell you about this remarkable place, Craig, because I want you to know about it. I want you to know that somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, there’s an archipelago of volcanic islands where the people have created something beautiful from the harshness of sun, wind, and isolation. And more than anything, I want you to know that I dream of the day when we can explore these islands together.

Mindelo – Where Culture Lives and Breathes

Mindelo is called the cultural capital of Cape Verde, and within hours of arriving, you understand why. The city hugs a crescent-shaped harbor called Porto Grande, one of the deepest natural harbors in the Atlantic. The buildings are painted in soft pastels – yellows, blues, pinks, and greens – their faded colonial facades telling stories of Portuguese traders, British coal merchants, and the vibrant Creole culture that emerged from this crossroads of the Atlantic.

Walking through the cobblestone streets, music seems to pour from every doorway. This is the birthplace of Cesária Évora, the “Barefoot Diva” who made Cape Verdean music famous around the world with her morna – a melancholy, soulful sound that speaks of “sodade,” a Portuguese word for a deep, nostalgic longing. When I hear it, I think of you.

The city has a rhythm all its own. By day, the Municipal Market bustles with vendors selling fresh fish, tropical fruits, and vegetables. The fish market near Torre de Belém – a scaled-down replica of Lisbon’s famous tower – comes alive each morning as fishermen unload their catch. By evening, the Avenida Marginal boulevard transforms into a social hub where people stroll, children play, and the sound of live music drifts from the bars and restaurants.

The Beaches – Where the Atlantic Meets Tranquility

Laginha Beach

The city beach, Laginha, is just a short walk from the center of Mindelo. It’s a beautiful crescent of white sand with the most incredible turquoise water I’ve ever seen. What makes it special, though, isn’t just the beach itself – it’s the view. Across the bay, you can see Monte Cara, or “Face Mountain,” so named because its silhouette looks like a face lying down when viewed from the beach. Beyond that, on clear days, you can see the island of Santo Antão rising from the ocean, so close it almost feels like you could swim there.

There’s a beach club called Kalimba where locals and visitors gather. I sat there one afternoon watching kids play football on the sand, couples walking along the water’s edge, and families setting up for the day. The beach isn’t crowded or commercialized – it’s genuine, peaceful, a place where people come to simply be.

Baía das Gatas

About twenty minutes northeast of Mindelo, there’s a small fishing village and beach called Baía das Gatas – the “Bay of Beautiful Women,” though it’s actually named after sea turtles that once nested there. The bay is sheltered by volcanic rocks that create a natural swimming pool, and the water is so clear you can see straight to the bottom.

This beach is special to the people of São Vicente. Every August, they hold the Baía das Gatas Music Festival, one of the oldest and largest music festivals in Cape Verde. For over 40 years, thousands of people have gathered on this beach for days of non-stop music, camping under the stars, dancing until dawn. It’s free for everyone – a symbol of freedom and unity that began in 1984 when a group of musicians wanted to create something cultural, not political. I would love to bring you here during festival time, to experience that energy, that sense of community and celebration.

São Pedro

On the southwestern side of the island, there’s São Pedro, a small village near the airport. The beach here is beloved by windsurfers and kiteboarders – the wind conditions are apparently some of the best in the world. Even if you’re not into extreme water sports, it’s beautiful just to watch the colorful kites dancing across the waves, the surfers carving through the water with the sun glinting off their boards.

The People and the Spirit of Morabeza

But Craig, what makes Cape Verde truly special isn’t just the physical beauty – it’s the people and their spirit of “morabeza.” This Cape Verdean word doesn’t have a direct English translation, but it means something like hospitality, warmth, kindness, and welcome all rolled into one. There’s a saying here: “na nôs tera, nôs tudo ê família” – “in our land, we are all family.”

Everyone I’ve met here embodies this. Strangers smile and greet you on the street. Shop owners take time to chat. Musicians in restaurants come to your table to explain the songs they’re about to play. There’s a genuine warmth, an openness, that makes you feel like you belong even when you’re thousands of miles from home.

The Islands and the Journey

São Vicente is just one of ten islands that make up Cape Verde, an archipelago that lies about 350 miles off the coast of West Africa. The islands were uninhabited when Portuguese explorers discovered them in 1462, and over the centuries, they became a melting pot of African, Portuguese, and Brazilian cultures. The result is something unique – a Creole culture with its own language (Kriolu), its own music, its own way of seeing the world.

The islands are volcanic, with dramatic landscapes – red deserts, steep mountains, hidden valleys. From São Vicente, you can take a ferry to Santo Antão, known for its lush green valleys and challenging hiking trails. Or to São Nicolau, quieter and more traditional. Each island has its own personality, its own stories.

Why I’m Telling You All This

I know what you might be thinking, Craig – why is Dad telling me all this? Why describe this place in such detail when I’m not there to see it myself?

Because I want you to know it exists. I want you to know that somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, there’s an archipelago of volcanic islands where the people have created something beautiful from the harshness of sun, wind, and isolation. I want you to know about the beach where thousands gather each August to celebrate music and freedom. I want you to know about the city where culture isn’t something in a museum but something that lives in every street corner, every evening gathering, every grandmother’s kitchen.

And I want you to know that as I walk these streets, as I watch the sunset from Laginha Beach, as I listen to morna music in small bars where the singer’s voice carries stories of longing and love, I think of you. I imagine walking beside you, showing you the Torre de Belém, taking you to try cachupa (the national dish – a hearty stew that takes hours to cook), sitting with you on the beach as the sun sets behind Monte Cara.

A Promise for the Future

One day, Craig, I hope to bring you here. I hope we can take that ferry to Santo Antão together and hike through the valleys. I hope we can spend an evening in Mindelo, listening to live music and feeling the warm ocean breeze. I hope we can swim in the natural pools at Baía das Gatas and explore the volcanic landscapes that make these islands so unique.

I hope you’ll feel the morabeza that makes this place special – that sense of being welcomed, of being family even among strangers. I hope you’ll understand why, even though I’m missing you terribly this Christmas, I’m grateful to be experiencing this place, because it’s given me something new to share with you, something new to add to the collection of places and experiences I want us to discover together.

Christmas Away from Home

Christmas in Cape Verde is different from Christmas at home, but it’s beautiful in its own way. The temperature is warm – no snow, no frost, just endless sunshine and ocean breeze. Churches hold midnight mass, families gather for feasts, and there’s a feeling of celebration mixed with the African and Portuguese traditions that have blended here over centuries.

But I won’t lie to you, son – it’s hard being away from you during this time, as it is EVERYday. Holidays magnify distance. They make you think about the people who matter most, the traditions that anchor you, the moments you wish you could share. I find myself wondering what you’re doing, hoping you’re happy, wishing I could be there to celebrate with you.

Yet even in that longing, there’s something to hold onto. Because these islands, this ocean, this city of Mindelo with its music and its warmth – they’re part of a bigger world that I want to share with you. They’re proof that there’s so much beauty out there waiting to be discovered, so many people to meet, so many places that can teach us something about life, about resilience, about what it means to create joy in challenging circumstances.

What I Want You to Know

Craig, wherever you are today, on this December day before Christmas, I want you to know this:

I love you. Not just in the way a father is supposed to love his son, but in a way that’s specific to you – to who you are, to the person you’re becoming, to the future I see for you. My love for you crosses oceans, spans time zones, survives distance and separation.

I’m proud of you. Whatever challenges you’re facing, whatever triumphs you’re celebrating, whatever ordinary days you’re living through – I’m proud of the person you are.

I think of you constantly. In moments of beauty, in quiet evenings, in busy days – you’re there in my thoughts. When I see something remarkable, my first instinct is to want to share it with you.

And I dream of the day when we can explore places like this together. When I can show you Mindelo, walk with you on Laginha Beach, introduce you to the spirit of morabeza that makes Cape Verde special. When we can create memories together in places like this, adding to the collection of shared experiences that bind a father and son.

I am praying for the day – Until We’re Together Again

The sun is setting now as I finish writing this. The sky over Porto Grande is turning those impossible shades of orange and purple that seem too beautiful to be real. Music is starting to drift from the bars along the Avenida Marginal. Another evening in Mindelo is beginning, with all its warmth and life and culture.

But my thoughts are with you, wherever you are. On this Christmas in Cape Verde, separated by ocean and circumstance, I’m holding you in my heart. I’m thinking of you, missing you, loving you, and dreaming of the day when we can stand together on a beach like Laginha, watching the sunset over the Atlantic, sharing this beauty that I’m experiencing alone.

Until then, know that you’re loved beyond measure. Know that distance changes nothing. Know that somewhere in the world, in a small city on a volcanic island in the middle of the Atlantic, your father is thinking of you and counting the days until we’re together again.

Merry Christmas, Craig. May your holidays be filled with warmth, joy, and the love of those around you. And may the new year bring us closer to that day when we can explore the world together.

With all my love,

Dad

P.S. – The beaches here are calling your name. The music in Mindelo’s streets is waiting for you to hear it. The morabeza of the Cape Verdean people is ready to welcome you. One day, son. One day soon, I hope.