Category: Portugal

The sun shone

We woke today to blue skies, but our few days on the island has taught us that the weather can be fickle, and the weather “now” can be different from the weather an hour later. But today the sun stayed out all day and we enjoyed a warm day, stripping to T-shirts when sat in the sun.

After a leisurely start, and more of “God’s bread” for breakfast, we caught the bus up to the Botanical gardens (different from Monte Palace we visited on Tuesday) – 10 minutes and 1.95 euros each on a yellow bus (numbers 29, 30, 31 & 31A all take you there) and then enjoyed a pleasant couple of hours enjoying the grounds, the view, and a drink in the sunshine in the cafe.

We headed back down the hill (again by bus, after yesterday’s hike, we were in no rush for any more downhill walks), had lunch and headed to the waterfront. The temperature was probably in the low twenties, the sun strong and warm and seeing one or two others in the sea, I knew I had to take a dip too. The water was not too cold – I’d say it was warmer than the med off Nerja in October? – and it was a definite delight to take a dip in December. The beach was nothing special – big grey/black pebbles and rocks that were a little difficult to walk on – but it shelved swiftly and one was soon in deepish water.

After warming on the rocks for a while after my dip, we headed further up the beach to “yellow building” that we had seen in many pictures of Funchal. It was an early fort built to defend the port and it made an interesting diversion for twenty minutes to explore it.

Then home for a quick recharge, before back out after dark to eat and a last look at the Christamas lights and market. The Christmas market – busy all week – was heaving, it being Friday night the locals were out in force and we found ourselves watching a local band playing songs – most of which we didn’t know – and having a wonderful, festive fun time in Funchal.

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned …

Today we headed into the hills mountains, booking a trip to Pico de Aieiro and beyond. The day had dawned with blue skies over Funchal and we were confident of a good day’s hiking as our transport collected us shortly befor 9am to take us to Pico de Aieiro , 1,800m above sea -level (that’s 300m higher than Ben Nevis) but as the mini-bus climbed ever higher, the cloud began to envelope us, and a light rain began to fall. As we de-bussed and donned our snoods, gloves and rain jackets (at 5 degress, it was cold as well as damp) Becky was not a happy Hector, wondering why we were choosing to walk in the rain.

The original plan was to hike along PR1 from Pico de Aieiro to Pico Ruivo but due to forest fires earlier in the year, much of that route is closed. However, you could do the first 1.2km as an “out and back” route, taking in the iconic “Stairway to heaven” – photos of which are awash online, of towering peaks knifing through the cloud base and reaching into an azure blue sky, or shots of green clad cliff-sides plunging deep into the valley below. But I must have lived the life of a sinner. As I climbed the stairway to heaven, no brilliant light and awe-inspiring majestic views for me, only swirling grey clouds obscuring all that lay in front, above, below or behind, heaven was not welcoming me today! We turned round, and headed back from whence we came, and as we did so the clouds began to part, the sun began to shine in all its splendour; those that had taken the path later than me must have led more righteous lives as heaven revealed itself to them.

With most of PR1 closed, our guide has arranged for us to follow PR3 down from the hill, a 7km hike across varied terrain and views. The weather continued to change throughout the day, at times we needed to strip off our layers and walk bathed in sunshine, at other times the puffa jackets were worn.

From this point, most of the hike was downhill, but that doesn’t mean it was easy – both underfoot and on the knees. For the final two or three kms, the trail tracked alongside a river canyon, the sound of rushing water providing a dramatic soundtrack to our descent and the pools, swirls and waterfalls added (even more) visual interest. At then end of the trail, five hours after he had dropped us off, our guide picked us up in the minibus for the thirty minute transit back to Funchal. It was a fun, but tough, day, a proper hike that demanded more than typical tourist attire or fitness, and it felt an accomplishment to have achieved what we did.

Back in town, we went straight to a local cafe to order some coffee and cakes. Portuguese/Madieran pastries are as good as any I have had elsewhere. The only decisions we had to make was what cakes to choose, and whether to eat inside or outside. On both counts we made the right decision.

Shortly after tucking in to these tasty treats, the heavens opened. A good job we had chosen to eat indoors. We ordered another coffee and watched the world outside try and shelter the best they could from a sudden sub-tropical downpour. A dramatic end to a dramatic day!

Sleighs, cable cars and flamingos (plus a mugging in broad daylight)

This morning we took the cable car from the sea front to up the hill (mountain) that is the backdrop to Funchal to Monte. The ride was calm and scenic, taking about ten minutes to ascend the 550 metres to the top (cost: 12.50 euros each, one way, or 18 euros each for a return. We bought one way tickets – for why, read on …)

Arriving at the top, we had a coffee in the sun overlooking Funchal and the sea beneath us, before heading into Monte Palace and its gardens (15 euros each) We were originally going to take another cable car (9 euro each return) and then go into the Botanical gardens (10 euros each) but changed our minds, and I’m glad we did. The 70,000 square metre tropical gardens were lush and well looked after, featuring ferns, azaleas, orchids, banana trees (with bananas dangling from the branches – I eat a banana everyday, but have never seen them growing before), with glimpses of Funchal town below through the foliage.

But there was more to it than trees and plants. Pink flamingos mesmerised me as they stood on one leg, occasionally stretching the other behind them as if in some avian yoga class.

Sculptures and artwork were dotted throughout, and there was a more formal contemporary art exhibition housed in a building. My favourite piece was a 4 metre tall piece of art made from red plastic cutlery. But there were plenty of other pieces to inspire thought and comment.

We lost ourselves – metaphorically, not literally – in the Monte Palace gardens and it brought to mind one of my favourite poems:

A poor life this if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare

Leisure – by William Henry Davies

and I did let time and space wash over me as I stood (and sometimes sat) and stared.

And, as the saying famously says, what goes up, must come down and we too, had to descend back into town. We could have taken the cable car back down the hill but this being Christmas (v tenuous link!) and this being Madeira we took a sleigh ride back down. I believe in “the olden days” these sleighs were used to transport goods and produce down into the port, nowadays they take tourists for a whizz down the slope. It was fun, the ride was about 10 minutes and although Becky thought at one point we’d end up in the gutter, and we did pass perilously close to some parked cars, it never felt unsafe.

At the end of the ride, we still had a way to go to get back into town – persistent taxi drivers badgered you to take a cab for 20 euros, but we elected to walk (it was all downhill) in the increasingly warm sunshine.

So what about the mugging? This morning, on our way to the cable car station, we stumbled across an indoor market, Mercardo dos Lavradores

Inside the fruit and veg was colourfully displayed, tempting for the tourist and local alike. Becky made the fatal mistake of engaging in conversation with a vendor of dried fruit. Resisting their offer of a sample of dried mango, she weakened when offered a macadamia nut to try. Less the two minutes later, we were buying two bags of nuts for the princely sum of 31 euros! I couldn’t help but feel we had been robbed, and in broad daylight, too. (And to add insult to injury – the nuts are so expensive, I’m not allowed to eat them! (I’ve been told I can have two a day when we get home!))

But its been such an enjoyable day, even nut-gate can be forgiven, and remembered as an amusing anecdote.

It was up early for us today to catch a 7am flight from Bristol to Madeira, for six nights in its capital – Funchal. We took off in the dark, but soon witnessed the sunrise over the cloud base, a colourful start to a colourful week. Before we travelled, everyone commented on how “sporty” it was flying into Madeira airport, and before we took off our captain warned that it was a bit breezy on the Atlantic outcrop, but just within limits for landing so the engines roared into life and we climbed high into the night sky. It was cloudy as we approached our destination, but we broke through the bottom of the cloud to see a lush, green, verdant island, the captain executed a few deft turns and soon greased the runway with a smooth landing – no dramas and our latest adventure could begin.

The weather was warm, but breezy – a pleasant change from cold, grey England but not the azure blue skies we’d hoped for, and definitely a day for the fleece and not shorts. We set off to explore and after a short walk along the sea front we found ourselves at the base of the cable car, and the start of the old town, which we ambled through enjoying the eclectic mix of painted doors.

I was already beginning to fall in love with Madeira – a very different feel from its Mediterranean cousins. Lush and green, with a mountains rising steeply from the fringes of its capital, Funchal, with houses spilling down the hillside to the sea. And then I discovered Pasteis de Nata – a custard tart, but only better – caramelised on the top and sprinkled with cinnamon, all in a crispy, flaky pastry, delicious.

Once darkness fell, we found somewhere to eat – and being Portugal and not Spain, finding somewhere to eat at 7pm was not a problem – and the marvelled in the Christmas lights that festooned every street, tree and building. Photos do not do them justice, they were brilliant and bright, and everywhere.

And on a jetty was a tunnel of white lights, with fluffy clouds and stars dangling from the ceiling, blowing in the wind. The tunnel was like a storm, with the rising sun at the end – a storm will always pass. It was like being in a cartoon, it was fantastic. We’ve only been here half a day so far, but already Funchal, and Madeira, make the grade – what a great place to spend a few December days.