Madeira by Aileen Cleave

By no stretch of the imagination could I be called a travel writer, but this island’s beauty is moving me to prose.  This island, this Madeira, to paraphrase a famous line, is quite breathtaking.  It’s July, and we are here to escape the stifling temperatures of Almeria, and to date the mercury hasn’t climbed above 27 degrees.  I know my fellow Almerenses will understand the joy of a strong, cooling breeze.   The second pleasant discovery is we are on British Summertime, as should be the entire Iberian peninsula.  Only Franco’s desire to stay in tune with Hitler caused Spain to abandon Greenwich Meantime and move forward an hour.  The temptation to think that Spain and Portugal are some kind of sibling act should be avoided.  The language looks similar on paper, but sounds radically different.  Also, the day here in Portugal is structured differently.  No long 2 pm lunches followed by a siesta.  Here many restaurants and bars  don’t open until 6 o clock, 

Because we are here for a month, an hotel was out of the question, and so we are very pleasantly ensconced in one of the many AirBnb on the island.  We are in Funchal, just one kilometre from the centre of town, but here I must add a word of caution;  the first part of that one kilometre is a 1 in 3 gradient.  Being mountainous and only 57 kilometres Long and  22k wide, walking can be a challenge once one departs from the coast road.  This I’ve decided to look upon as an advantage, enjoying delicious lunches followed by  a conscience-easing clamber home.   Lest this doesn’t appeal, worry not because the island is extremely well served with buses and taxis.  We decided we would have a pedestrian first week exploring Funchal then hire a car to explore the rest of the island for the last three weeks.

We have settled into a very pleasant routine, setting off mid morning, walking shoes on, walking stick to hand, and we determinedly attack the first 100 metres of our 1-3 hill before the last 100 metres mercifully drops down to sea level.  Here on the corner is a small bar where I have an Americano and John has a Galao, a tall latte.  Without a car we have to organise our food shopping for the latter part of the day (usually following lunch) to be taken  home in a taxi, which costs us about 6 euros.

All around us are pretty white houses with red tiled roofs, built on the side of the mountain, some recently renovated, others in need of renovation, interspersed by tall fir trees and beautiful gardens with brilliantly coloured mandevillas , agapanthus, hibiscus, frangipani and many more sub tropical plants  whose names I don’t know, and  everywhere perfectly tended.

Just 20 metres up the road from our ’home’, is Quinta Magnolia, a beautiful woodland  park boasting a wide range of botanical species from around the world, a glorious setting for the floodlit  padel, squash and tennis courts.  Wending through it all are woodland walkways, many quite challenging, dropping down steeply into the ravine then rising again to street level.

It was my birthday a couple of days ago, so it had to be marked by something special, and what could be more special on Madeira than the iconic Edwardian hotel, Reid’s Palace, where diverse characters such as Marilyn Monroe and Edward VIII have stayed.  Not, I hasten to clarify, for lunch - that would take most of our holiday budget, but a leisurely drink on the terrace watching the beautiful people might be entertaining.  

The doorman was impeccably gracious, explaining that sadly the terrace was closed until pre-dinner drinks that evening  but the pool bar would afford us a warm welcome.  We set off to follow his directions  across an enormous expanse of richly decorated rooms, down one floor in a lift, across another vast space then down a further two floors.  Suffice it to say, the pool bar was, of course, incredible.   One could hardly make out where the Olympic  size pool ended and the Atlantic Ocean began.  And all around on deeply upholstered loungers lay what we termed ‘the beautiful people’, and some of them were beautiful, others not so much.   It was while enjoying my gin and tonic that I glanced down at my white linen trousers, trousers of an indeterminate age,and  noticed two rather large holes just above the ankle in one of the legs! oh shame!

The history of the island is fascinating and the sixteenth century cathedral marks the social centre of the old city.  Discovered by Henry the Navigator in 1420, it was found to be an island of wood, hence the name Madeira, similar to the Spanish word madera , also meaning wood.  From the city’s Jardim Botanico you can take a cable car up to Monte, and apparently come back down by toboggan.  This particular great excitement I have not personally experienced!!

Today is Sunday and  marks a week into our holiday.  We have spent it quietly here “at home”, enjoying a simple lunch of salad, some lovely soft cheeses and the delicious local bread.  Tomorrow is the last day of our self-imposed pedestrian  time here and we have loved every bit of it.    We will walk into town again and plan to spend the morning at the Jardem  Botanico  and perhaps discover first hand the charms of the cable car.  The return toboggan journey is a definite non-starter.

On Tuesday we will take the bus to the airport (some 40 minutes and 8 euros) to pick up our hire car and start planning to explore the rest of the island, a prospect I’m  looking forward to.