I arrived at the car rental desk in Sao Miguel airport happy, quite rested, excited as usual. I had such a special flight — I could see the sunrise. I had two weeks ahead on an island and I knew I would need a car, so I had already booked it.
The man at the counter looked at my licence and said: "Hmm. Cannot be done. Your driving licence is expired."
I froze.
The ocean here doesn't care about your licence or your plans. It just does its thing.
I didn't know. My gosh — what am I doing now, and since when had I been driving with no valid licence? OK, it is what it is. The immediate reality was simpler: I couldn't get the car. The public bus is limited, the last one back to town leaves at 4pm, and the best parts of the island are not reachable on foot.
What I did instead
I posted a message in a travellers group — the same approach that had worked in Tenerife. I said I was on the island for two weeks, had no car, and was looking for someone to explore with.
Within hours, there was Peter — one of my best companions on that trip, a guy from Sicily who was there for only one week.
Living my absolute best life. Expired licence. No car. No plan. Perfect company.
He rented the car and we hiked almost every day, explored the island, shared good memories. The weather was not always kind — one time it rained so hard we couldn't hear each other talking. We found shelter and waited it out, and afterwards everything was fresh and sunny. On his last day, as I was about to leave my place for one more ride, I met Yassin, who had just arrived on the island. Of course I invited him to join us. We had a great time, found a good spot for seafood, and by the end of it Yassin was already planning to rent a car and keep exploring.
Peter left. Yassin stayed. The second week began.
The colours here don't look real. They are. The island just does this.
I went with Yassin to discover the parts of the island I hadn't seen yet. It is a small island — you can cover a lot of it easily — but weather and company change everything. The same viewpoint in different light, with a different person, is a completely different place.
Hello from the tea plantation. Find me in the bushes! Worth a stop.
Horses and a waterfall
One afternoon Yassin came to find me, excited. He had discovered a ranch nearby that offered horse riding. Apparently people come to the island specifically for intensive riding courses.
I had ridden before, but always inside a training area — never out in open terrain. Here there were more than twenty horses and we rode for two hours on the hills. The island spread out around us. I felt, in that specific way that only happens sometimes, completely at one with what I was doing. No resistance. Just movement, me, the horse and the landscape.
Raw nature, unfiltered. The kind you earn by showing up without a plan.
Another day, Yassin challenged me to swim toward a waterfall and go behind it.
We were hiking, prepared for that — not the moment for swimming. I usually wouldn't have done it. But that time I wanted to do something different.
I went.
Sometimes you just need to hug a tree. No further explanation required.
When you reach behind the waterfall, the water falls around you and the world disappears. It is loud in a way that empties your head completely. For a few seconds, there is nothing except the cold, the rush of the water and the sound.
Magic is the only word I have for it. And I nearly didn't go because I'm afraid of getting into stones I don't see.
The thing about plans
The car would have given me independence. What the no-car situation gave me was Peter, then Yassin, great companions. And it's not about being lucky — you still need to do things. I reached out with a post in a travellers group, and I chose to stay in a shared place where it's likely you'll meet people.
Chill down for a bit. Stay with yourself. The island teaches you this whether you want it to or not.
I'm not saying things always work out. But I've learned to pay attention to the moments when a problem removes one option and something better walks in through the gap. It happens more often than you'd expect, if you stay open to it and don't spend the whole time mourning what you lost. Just be solution oriented.
I know it might be something you hear often — but unplanned trips are the best, if you dare a bit.


