Madeira

So, fresh from the Azores, I'm off to Portugal's other Atlantic (and autonomous) territory. Madeira's various nicknames are encouraging: The Island of Flowers, The Garden Island, and The Island of Eternal Spring. I'm looking forward to that year round Mediterranean climate. We're closer to Africa than to Europe here (just off Morocco). Apparently, Madeira is also known as The Hawaii of Europe. But I thought that title had already been taken by the Azores. And, I believe there is only one volcano here, on this archipelago, and that's Madeira.

Madeira Airport

This story begins at Madeira Airport, near the capital city of Funchal, on the Portuguese island of Madeira. From inception, it featured on the Most Dangerous Airports lists, because of its short runway (only 1600 metres in length, terminating at a cliff edge.) After a TAP accident, in 1977, the runway was lengthened, into the sea, using support pillars. It’s still on the Most Dangerous Airports list.

And, it’s an exciting approach, banking above Madeira Island, craggy peaks peeping through the clouds, and turning, to come in from the sea. But a safe and surprisingly undramatic landing. The island makes up for it as it is definitely dramatic. Entirely mountainous, rising sheer from the sea, on all sides with towering terraced slopes.

Getting Around Madeira

Madeira has a network of cable cars (teleférico) which, today, seem to lead nowhere. Originally, they were used to access the tiny, but fertile, flat fields at the bottom of the cliffs. These flat surfaces, in Portuguese, are called fajãs. The ground here is very fertile, used by locals to grow fruit and vegetables. Before the teleférico, they had to access the land by boat, or via carved steps in the side of the cliffs, to maintain and harvest.

Now, there’s an incredible new road network, covering Madeira’s 700 square kilometres, designed to transport cars across the relentless heights. Tunnels, bridges, causeways and flyovers and they’re still building. EU money has poured into this once impoverished area. Towns that were once only linked by footpaths are now easily accessible. The tourists can get anywhere and everywhere.

Once a holiday destination for the elderly, Madeira now offers canyoning and challenging hiking. The backpackers are arriving and the island is seething with tourists, even in October. Mostly British, but plenty of Germans too. The roads come at a price. The locals sensibly spend their holidays on the quitter beaches of neighbouring island, Porto Santo.
Today, the mountaintop houses have water and electricity, but often no roads still at the apex. If you don’t have a cable car you have to carry everything to and fro. Moving home must be fun.

Madeira - Facts and Factoids

• Madeira is one of the two autonomous regions of Portugal (the other is the Azores).
• Madeira is an archipelago, comprising four smaller archipelagos, off the northwest coast of Africa, situated in the Macaronesia region of the North Atlantic.
• Macaronesia, in its turn, is a collection of four volcanic archipelagos in the North Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of North Africa and Europe: The Azores, Madeira, The Canary Islands and Cape Verde. Politically, the Spanish and Portuguese islands of Macaronesia are in the EU. Geologically, most of Macaronesia, including Madeira, is part of the African tectonic plate. The name Macaronesia (from the Greek words meaning 'islands of the fortunate' ) was originally used by ancient Greek geographers to refer to any islands west of the Strait of Gibraltar.
• The archipelago includes the islands of Madeira, Porto Santo, and the Desertas (three islands), administered together with the separate archipelago of the Savage Islands (two islands). Roughly half of the population lives in the capital, Funchal.
• Madeira Island today is a popular year-round resort, being visited every year by about 1.4 million tourists, almost five times its population.
• The region is noted for its namesake (fortified) wine and warm, subtropical climate, as well as its flora and fauna, landscapes (laurel forest),which are classified as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and embroidery artisans.

Hotel Estalagem, Ponto do Sol

My hotel at Ponto do Sol (Sunny Point) teeters above all this, on a cliff top. Its terraces are accessed by three separate concrete column lifts, gantries suspended above the flower filled gardens. The village, with its church and beach, is way down below, in the valley. Peeping over the edge, I can see there’s a tempting swimming pool created by rock breakers, alongside the grey volcanic pebble. There are walkways and little sundecks under each of the beach umbrellas. It’s not the most comfortable surface to lie directly on.

But we have two pools, in our clifftop paradise. One outside, turquoise infinity style, suspended over the crags and more bays. One steamy and equally blue, inside. But that’s got views too. And it’s next to the spa. I’ve already sampled the massages.

The restaurant is a few levels down, via two lifts, but still high above the valley. The tables are ranged against a stone wall, low enough to afford a view and tall enough to discourage unfortunate accidents. It’s south west facing, so there are tremendous sunsets.

Eating in Ponto do Sol

Ponta do Sol village is very much about catering for the tourists. There’s a narrow street in the centre, packed with bars and three restaurants. The seafront road is an elegant palm line promenade of candy coloured hotels, with still more restaurants inside.

There’s another restaurant right on the beach and yet another, atop a rocky promontory, at the end of the beach. I’ve sampled most of the eateries and their offerings it has to be said are variable, even mediocre, and inconsistent. The Azores did better. Squid is rubbery or over salted. Potato is lumpy. Fish is overcooked.

The local delicacy of scabbard fish (they claim it’s like cod, but it isn’t as flaky or tasty) in batter, with banana and an alcohol based sauce doesn’t quite work. Too sweet. Passion fruit abounds and the mousse is lovely. Ironically, the best meals I have, on a small island, are steak orientated. The meat is cooked beautifully. The local poncha (rum served with fruit juices, lemon juice and honey) is definitely worth trying. Wonderfully sweet and sour, unlike caipirinha, not served over ice. So, it looks just like an innocuous orange juice. But it’s pretty lethal. I’ve also been told to try nikita. Beer, wine and ice cream. It will take courage.

The hotel restaurant shares the same inconsistencies. When you can find a waiter. The cold breakfast buffet is astonishingly good and beautifully arranged, with areas for fruit, breads and enticing pastries (much too enticing). Sparkling wine. All the juices are freshly squeezed too. On the other hand, the cooked breakfast menu sounds good ( again if you can someone to place an order) and indeed the food looks lovely when it arrives. But it doesn’t taste lovely. Slimy eggs, cooked too quickly, rubbery omelette and tasteless French toast. It also serves extremely strong caipirinhas. Lots of cachacha and hardly any ice. I hope I can negotiate the gantry back to my room.

Madeira is on the same time as the UK and mainland Portugal for that matter. But it’s longitude is further west (17 degrees) and so it’s pitch black still, at 7.30 in the morning, and not really sunny, until 10 a.m.,in Ponta do Sol. On the plus side, it’s still warm enough (33 degrees north and subtropical) and light enough, to sit on the beach, well after 7pm..

A Brief History of Madeira

• The Madeira Archipelago was the first territorial finding of the Age of Discovery. Madeira was claimed by Portuguese sailors, in the service of Prince Henry the Navigator, in 1419, and settled, by Portugal, from 1420. But the islands were known of well before then. Plutarch in his Parallel Lives writes of sailors who spoke of idyllic Atlantic islands – The ‘Isles of the Blessed.’ There’s also evidence that the Vikings visited sometime between 900 and 1030.
• The majority of settlers were fishermen and peasant farmers, escaping the Black Death, and the nobility's control of the best farmlands.
• Madeira was one of the first islands where sugar was cultivated and it became the driver of the economy, with slaves being imported from Africa to work the plantations. (This was possibly the first place where slaves were used on the sugar plantations.) The sugar trade ensured that Madeira became an important port of call, for shipping.
• In the seventeenth century, as Portuguese sugar production was shifted to Brazil and elsewhere, wine took over as Madeira's most important commodity. It was, for the most part, controlled by British merchants, who settled here.
• The British (by invitation) occupied the island several times during the Napoleonic Wars.
• In, 1916, a German U-boat, SM U-38, sank three ships in Funchal Harbour and bombarded the town, bringing Portugal, into World War I, by extension.
• The last Austrian Emperor, Charles I, was exiled to Madeira after the war. He died there, in 1922, and his coffin lies in the Church of Our Lady of Monte.

Funchal

Capital, Funchal, 15 to 30 minutes away from my lodging, traffic depending, is surprisingly daunting. It’s huge, spread over numerous hills and very busy. I’ve been told to see the Botanic Gardens, the Old Town, and the harbour. They boast that this is the biggest cruise harbour in Portugal and, sure enough, there are two liners in dock.

That’s easy enough to take in, as we’ve parked up alongside. Next to footballer Ronaldo‘s CR7 Museum. He’s Madeira’s biggest claim to fame. There’s a statue outside, with the crotch area distinctly worn away. This is grabbed by all the women, who pose for pictures ‘with him’. Madeira's other claim to fame is the Guinness World Record, for the world’s largest fireworks display. It's held every New Year’s Eve.

Waterside Funchal, or Sé, as the area is known (episcopal see, as it’s the historic centre), is dominated by our Lady of the Assumption Cathedral (one of the oldest buildings in Madeira - late fifteenth century) and the Sao Lourenço Palace. The Palace cum fortress architecture is mixed, with various additions, since the sixteenth century. Today, it’s used by the government and the military.

There are also, ritzy hotels. Literally, The Savoy and The Ritz, together with arcades of upmarket shops and the typical Portuguese black and white mosaic pavements.(calcadas). Small green parks. The old city gate, sitting in a small chilled out square. And the once Farmers Market (Mercado dos Lavradores) now a home for exotic and expensive fruit and flowers, marketed by loud voiced and overly pushy male vendors and women with long suffering expressions, tricked out in local costume.

I mustn’t forget the Madeira wine cellars. Madeira wine was apparently, discovered by accident. Ordinary wine was taken on board sailing vessels, at this important Atlantic refuelling port, for the mariners to drink. It was fortified with brandy, so it would keep better. but it was heated by the sun's rays on its travels. It was realised that this warming actually improved its flavour and resilience. So, in the eighteenth century, they replicated this process, onland. Today, the boast is that Madeira produces the longest lasting quality wines. A vintage Madeira can last for a century or more, and the wine can be opened, re-stoppered and stored for months, without deterioration. I’m not keen, it’s too sweet and headache inducing, like sherry. But the most famous producer is Blandys, in Funchal. You can do tours and tastings there.

The harbour isn’t very exciting, and the marina is hoarded off for modernisation. So, tuk tuk driver Fredie persuades me that a ride is a good idea. (They’re Piaggio made here.) First, the Old Town or Zona Historica, to the east side of Sé. Narrow, winding streets. vibrant street art, cobblestones, restaurants galore and a scattering of souvenir shops. At the waters edge, a fortress, Fortaleza Sao Tiago (St James), with tiny turrets and peeling gold stucco. It was built in the seventeenth century to help repel pirate invasions. Just up the hill, the Sao Tiago church, Socorro, where Fredie was baptised. It dates back to the seventeenth century. As with many catholic churches, it’s misleadingly simple outside, and has an ornate baroque interior.

We chug along the coast, stopping to admire the views of Funchal spread below us, out of the city, to the Cristo Rei, at Canico. I’ve learned that nearly all Portuguese cities of note have a Christ (redeemer or king) statue. This is one of the smallest, but he’s older than the Rio Statue by four years (built in 1927). He gazes serenely out to sea, arms outstretched, although the history of the area is less serene. Before 1770, and construction of a British cemetery, non-Catholics were not allowed burial on the island, so their bodies were thrown out to sea from here. Fredie tells me this also used to be a notorious suicide spot.

Then, up the hills, above the city, to the Botanic Garden. This lives up to its reputation, with various sections where I can admire bromeliads, palms, some awesomely huge succulents and a lattice of green and burgundy planting depicting patterns and messages. Not to mention the views across the city, from these giddy heights.

Return is via a ten minute cable car, up a steep wooded valley, nay chasm, to Monte. And then another cable car down from the Monte hilltop, across the city and back to the edge of the Old Town. I’ve already been told that I should take the infamous toboggan run down from Monte. Wooden sleighs are pushed by men in straw boaters. I caught the top of the run and it looks dangerous. According to the Internet, it sometimes can be, and broken bones have been reported. I think the tuk tuk was enough excitement for one day, juddering up the steep slopes.

But when I get back to the harbour I also realise that there was another botanic garden, up at Monte, that I’ve also managed to miss. This one had a palace. Oh dear. But I’ve definitely already got my steps in for today.

West Madeira

I was going to hire a car, but decided not to, when I saw the roads, and the amount of traffic on them. The routes are incredibly narrow and steep, with precipitous drops. So, I’m on two day tours instead, starting from Funchal and covering the east and west of the island respectively.

Today, our minibus lurches along towards the west. Here, in the south, every space on those terraces is filled with vegetation or orange roofed buildings. Driver cum guide Tony is good on botany. The Madeirans are very proud of their small yellow bananas, packed onto all the terraces. Though the ones I’ve sampled are not that sweet. The plant only flowers once and, after the harvest, has to be cut down. But they grow all year round. Vines are planted further up, creating darker patches. There are plenty of other fruit and vegetables rammed onto those terraces and fajãs too. Sweet potatoes, tomatoes, sugar cane, cabbage, maize, guavas, avocados, oranges, lemons, mangoes, loquats, custard apples, figs, pineapples, gourds, taro, carrots, beetroot, asparagus, artichokes and more…

Then, there all the exotic flowers: Strelitzia (bird of paradise), the national flower, African tulip trees, hydrangeas, orchids, protea, bougainvillea, pink tiger striped hibiscus, gorgeous hot pink kapok trees and decorative Norfolk pines. There’s a lot of heavy breathing from the driver coming over the mike, in between commentaries. I wonder if he knows he is doing it.

We follow a procession of other buses and minivans, up the winding roads and through the endless tunnels. We are decanted at the various villages and viewpoints and allowed 30 minutes at each one. There are two challenges. One is finding the main sights, as the instructions from the driver/ guide are virtually non-existent. And the other is avoiding the other tourists.

Camara de Lobos

First stop is Camara de Lobos. It’s a pretty fishing village, virtually a suburb of Funchal, which seems to be principally famous as the place where Winston Churchill painted a picture, when he visited Funchal,in 1950. There’s a statue of him, a restaurant named after him and a plaque. He apparently liked madeira wine. This is also the place where the caipirinha-like cocktail, poncha, was invented. Local rum, fruit juices and honey.

Oh and this is the bay where the first Portuguese explorers, João Gonçalves Zarco, Bartolomeu Perestrelo, and Tristão Vaz Teixeira landed, in 1419, from Porto Santo. But poncha and Churchill seem to be much more important.

There are colourful fishing boats (xavelhas) drawn up on the quay and bobbing in the harbour. The town has just celebrated a festival and the decorations are still strung across the cobbled streets. That’s nice. Multiple souvenir shops and millions of tourists. Well that’s what it feels like. I don’t think we are the only bus making our first stop here.

Cabo Girao

Cabo Girao is the highest sea cliff in Europe, standing at 580 metres, according to Google's new summaries. But, according to Wikipedia, at least two sets of cliffs in Ireland are higher. So much for AI.

Whatever, it’s two euros, to walk on a small glass pavement, suspended above the sheer drop of the cliffs. There are queues for tickets and the Skywalk, as it’s misleadingly called, is thronging. It’s impossible to walk. You can edge your way in, if you don’t have vertigo. I peer bravely from the sides, where there’s a metal grille pavement perched above the gentler slopes.

Out at sea, the wheels floating on the surface are fish farms, where they’re rearing sea bream. Tony breezily announces that this is dorado, which is also known as sea bass. Wrong on both counts. As far as I know dorado is mahi-mahi. He's not so good on fauna then.

Ribeira Brava

At Ribeira Brava (Wild River}, there’s a river (of course), a beach and promenade, a pretty church, some tourist shops and a minuscule farmers market, stacked with crates of the local produce.

North West Madeira

Then, we turn north. Here the island is greener and less built up, but there is still nothing remotely flat to be seen. Sao Vicente has a wooden bridge, across a river, at the bottom of levada terraces. There’s a little chapel at the end, alongside another bridge and viewed from a rough riverside path hewn out of the cliffs. The chapel has a lopsided roof, like a gnome’s cap. The sea here is wild, the waves crashing into shore.

Along the north coast are a whole series of narrow waterfalls, dropping into the sea. Seventy percent of the water is collected for irrigation, hydroelectricity and drinking. The falls we stop at are called Bride’s Veil. Of course, they always are. And there are the remains of the old coast road, well, track, clinging to the cliffside. It can't have been easy going. There are also basalt formations, one standing splendidly isolated, boasting a small window.

Porto Moniz

On the north west tip, Porto Moniz is heavily reminiscent of the Azores. Natural foaming bathing pools, formed by erosion of the dark basalt, assaulted by spray, creating waterfalls and iridescent jade swirls. Impossibly picturesque. There are the natural pools, which are free, to the east of town and the natural pools,which have had concrete bathing areas, walkways, changing rooms and cafes added, in the west. So now those are the unnatural pools. You have to pay to go in. And there’s a long queue.

In addition, I wasn’t told there was swimming today and I haven’t brought the necessary towel and costume. I’m not that distressed, as it’s fairly breezy up here. I get a huge fruit and chicken salad, in a rooftop bar and, afterwards, still feel as if I haven’t eaten anything. Well, I’ve tried to be healthy. Time to retreat to a bench above the natural pools and partake of a Magnum. I got it for half the price of the ices in the restaurants, as I found a little Spar. A sign that I should go ahead and have one.

I’m joined, on my stone seat, by three mini alligator shaped lizards, vying for territory above me and around my feet. we're enjoying the views across the natural pools and out to the fortress, which has become Madeira's aquarium.

Fanal Forest

Another view point at Rio De Janela (miradoura abound here). Then, back through the peaks. As we climb higher, the vegetation and terracing disappears and there’s short turf and heather. Cows are grazing. This area is known as Little Scotland. Next, Fanal Forest, home to the ancient laurel trees, which gave the island its name (Madeira means Wood Island) and predate the first settlers. The trees are starkly beautiful, their branches creating natural sculptures. There’s even one called The Witch Tree. The area is billed as a park for rest and peace. I’m sure it would be, if it wasn’t for all the tour buses parked up. We descend back south, through Canhas and its 14 roadside Stations of the Cross.

East Madeira

The east side, with garrulous guide Gama, who, like many folk here, has lived in London. He picks me up at my hotel, to take me to Funchal. That’s one of the drawbacks of taking tours. It’s all the performance of getting to the start. And today it’s a real performance. We keep stopping at hotels, but there are no punters to be found. After half an hour, we only have two participants, on a minibus that’s supposed to be full. We finally find everyone an hour and a half later, after revisiting the same hotels. Gama has previously adamantly told some of them they weren’t on his tour. But the problems are all the office’s fault, apparently.

Monte

Eventually, up the mountain behind Funchal, back to Monte (no sign of the palace) with great views across the capital, from the Terreiro da Luta Viewpoint. The Our Lady of Peace Monument there, at five metres is the tallest on the island, eclipsing the Cristo.

Pico do Arieiro

Then, a long wind up to Pico do Arieiro, the third highest mountain in Madeira. Stunning views across the crags, accessed by some wobbly and very windy paths. There are two viewpoints, east and west, and the 30 minutes allotted isn’t really enough time to do both. Some folk try and are 15 minutes late. So, Gama spends the next 30 minutes ranting about customers who keep others waiting and ruin the programme for everyone. I’ll be very interested to see if he gets any tips, at the end of the tour.

Ribeiro Frio

Back through broom, heather and pine forests and down through more laurel, mimosa and eucalyptus, to Ribeiro Frio. This tiny village is crowded with people in souvenir shops and cafes and there’s a trout hatchery, if you want to pay to go in. The road is almost blocked by minibuses and taxis. I’m not really sure why we’ve stopped and no one else seems to be either.

Faial

A view point at Faial (like the Azorean island named after the local vegetation), across the ocean, with another small and almost pointless, glass pavement. But this one is free. The coast is definitely glorious round here, with spectacular peaks and pretty villages.

Santana

Next, the north coast town of Santana, for traditional triangular thatched houses, turned into tourist shops and museums. Only one still seems to be used as a proper residential house. It’s painted a different colour to the rest, which are all blue, red and white. Then, we are offered tourist lunch, in a crammed restaurant. I’ve saved some of my breakfast, and eat it in the market square.

Sao Lourenço

Another coastal viewpoint, at Sao Lourenço, the barren and wild eastern peninsula of Madeira. Islets snake into the horizon, for six kilometres, and there’s a sprinkling of stacks.

Porto da Cruz

Most of the sugar cane on Madeira goes to make rum, and most of that ends up in poncha. So, there’s rum tasting, at a factory, at Porto da Cruz.’No obligation to buy’ and no real pretence at explaining the rum making process. The machinery doesn’t look as if it's used any more.

Machico

The final stop is at Machico. Today, it’s most well known as the site of Madeira’s international airport. But it has an old town, a port and a beach, with imported golden sand. Every year, on the first of July, the locals here celebrate Madeira Day, the anniversary of the day when the Portuguese explorers first arrived in Machico Bay, in 1419. This was where they chose to settle. Machico is said to be named after two thwarted lovers Robert Machim and French Anna d’Arfet, who fled from England to France, in the late fourteenth century, but were blown off course, to Madeira, and landed here, to meet a sad end. It seems a long way to be deflected, but that’s the legend. And, if it’s true, they arrived before the Portuguese.

Walking the Levadas

The must do activity in Madeira is walking the irrigation channels, known as levadas. They wind their way all over the hillsides and the concrete ledges are utilised as walking trails. I’ve scouted out the least vertiginous one – some of them have terrifying drops. It’s part of a 62 kilometre canal, the Levada Norte, and I’m walking from near Cabo Girau, of viewpoint fame, to Boa Morte. That means ‘good death’, if I’m not mistaken. I hope that’s not prophetic.

I set off from the hotel, who obligingly provide free transport, with a Swiss couple, Andreas and Kristina and two Czech ladies. When we arrive at the start of the walk, the Czechs disappear hurriedly, shouting, ‘Have a nice day’, over their shoulders. They clearly don’t want company. Fortunately, the Swiss couple are happy to walk with me and we amble happily along.

It’s a scenic walk, with ongoing views to the slopes of the south, and back to Cabo Girau, near the start. Reflections in the gurgling waters. Eucalyptus forests glistening and banks of exotic flowers. Tiny lizards scatter before us. Hundreds of them. Thankfully, this levada is very level and not too arduous or scary. Altogether,a very satisfactory experience.

And now, it’s time to depart this scenic and overcrowded island.

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