High Tea - 28 December 2008

Today we had a glimpse into the life of William Reid; his was a 'rags to riches' story. In 1836 he worked his passage to Madeira (for the sake of his health), started out as a baker and saw the opportunity to cater to the rich visitors to the island; finally planning, but not seeing completed, the Reid’s Palace Hotel.

In the morning we visited the former estate of the Reid family, the once private park and gardens now the Municipal Botanical Garden. The gardens afford great views over the city, which we enjoyed between the heavy showers.

For our afternoon outing, we shouted ourselves afternoon tea at Reid's Hotel. This has been rated as one of the best hotels in the world, and it certainly has a superb position on the cliff top overlooking Funchal.

Despite checking that afternoon tea would be served on the terrace, it was unfortunately in the dining room, we just happened to choose the wrong day. But even so, we were on the upper level and had a sea view, as well as looking out over the elegant dining room. Like any 'English' afternoon tea, we enjoyed delicate sandwiches, scones and cakes; all quite delicious, and a tribute to the canny Scot.

Levada walk - 27 December 2008

One of the things one must do when visiting Madeira is a levada walk. There are over 2000km of levadas on Madeira, some dating back to when the Portuguese first colonised the island and some quite modern. Initially these were irrigation channels constructed to bring water from the mountains to the lower lying agricultural land; now some are used as feeds for hydro-electricity generation.

Regardless of their initial purpose they now generate healthy revenues for the companies that organise levada walks for tourists. Because the levadas follow the contours to bring the water down gradually the gradients are very slight making the walks quite approachable for any level of fitness.

We chose the 25 Fontes Walk as it was well recommended in the guidebooks. Our taxi driver from yesterday was full of dire warnings regarding attempting a levada walk on our own given the instability of the paths after the recent heavy rain and the only way to access many of the walks is either a guided tour or with a rental car. We were quite pleased that we had not chosen the rental car option when, after stopping for a coffee and comfort break, having climbed from sea-level to 1007m, the driver discovered that the road was closed. So it was all the way back down to the coast and up again via another route. This second route would have dissuaded any rental car driver that was not absolutely confident of reaching the final destination. We finally arrived at the Paul da Serra plateau at 1500m. This is the largest flat area on the island (3km by 4km) and we drove across it in low cloud, unable to see a thing. Finally, we arrived at our destination, Rabacar and donned our wet weather gear; however, it was not long before our boots were wet through as the rain kept pouring down.

The first levada walk took us out to a reasonably spectacular waterfall but we could not quite make it to the viewpoint as another temporary waterfall was obliterating the path. We retraced our steps partway and descended to join the second levada that would take us to the 25 Fontes or fountains. Arriving there, all we saw was another impressive waterfall. The guide explained that usually there are 25 separate outlets from the rock face with a smallish waterfall running down the centre. All of that was lost in the excesses of water that were cascading down.

After that it was time for lunch and the guide indicated that we would head down another path by a levada for our lunch break. We followed others and set off and it was not until the leaders came across a sign propped against the side of the path saying, in six different languages, that it was not safe to proceed that questions arose; like ‘Where is the lunch spot?’ ‘Where is the guide?’ ‘Where is the rest of the party?’ and so on. We decided to retrace the kilometre or so that we had walked and came across the rest of the party happily, albeit soggily, enjoying their lunch right back near the 25 Fontes. Apart from the levada beside the path and the gentle gradients, we could have been walking anywhere in NZ's Fiordland; the trees were dripping with mosses, lichens and rain; we felt very much at home.

Replenished and reunited we returned by the route we had taken until we met the stairs that had brought us down to the lower levada. Instead of climbing the stairs we carried on following the levada, most of the time walking on a buried pipe that had joined our route. A couple of kilometres further on the path, levada and pipe all entered a tunnel. The guide produced some torches and we set off through the 800m long tunnel.

Although we all had sodden shoes, socks and feet, most of us had been puddle-jumping all day avoiding the worst of the standing water on the path or the cascading water that ran across the path occasionally from the overflowing levadas. It had all been a waste of time because the floor of the tunnel was a stream which was ankle deep by the time we exited and there was nowhere else to walk but through the water.

However, the other side of the mountain was bathed in the most welcome sunlight which we all enjoyed as we made our way out to the collection spot to wait for the bus which took us back to Funchal via a welcome coffee stop at Calheta where the pipe had terminated in a hydro-electric station.

Around the coast - 26 December 2008

Another showery day, so we decided to stay near the sea, but explore further a field from Funchal. Winston Churchill enjoyed painting Camara de Lobos, a local fishing village 14k from Funchal. We intended to get a bus, but as it was Boxing Day & still a public holiday, the bus we needed did not appear to be running. So, in totally uncharacteristic style, we negotiated a deal with a taxi driver. We arrived in the fishing village just as the sun drove away the showers, and enjoyed the small, but picturesque spot. After the village the road became more torturous as we continued on to Cabo Girao, the second highest sea cliffs in Europe (Norway takes first place).

On the way, the taxi driver treated us to a drink of Poncha; a local drink of lemon, orange, honey & sugar cane brandy: a little medicinal for us, but apparently a local favourite. You can buy bottles of it already made but the lady in the bar made it fresh for us so that was quite special.

The cliffs have a viewing platform with brilliant views. We were fortunate to see the views, as we drove through heavy rain and total whiteout to the cliffs, and once again, the shower passed, and allowing us to enjoy the views from 580m above sea level.

Returning to Funchal we missed the central markets by a few minutes but the supermarkets were still open so we selected some Madeira wine to sample as Winston Churchill once said, "to drink Madeira is to sip history with every glass." A walk around the yacht marina took us past the sea wall that is decorated by crews of trans-Atlantic yachts before they set off from Madeira to conquer the ocean waves. As the paintings fade with time they are over painted by newer crews so the wall is an ever-changing mosaic celebrating the exploits of those brave enough to have made it this far from either Europe or the Americas.

Once darkness had fallen we ventured out to the Lido end of the foreshore to look at the lights at that end of town and made our way back just before the heavens opened once again.

Christmas Day - 25 December 2008

Christmas Day started with more heavy rain, but by the time we had dressed in waterproof jackets & leggings, it had eased off somewhat, so we set out to explore Funchal. The storm that had temporarily prevented us from landing was still with us in the form of infrequent short, sharp, heavy downpours and huge waves battering the foreshore. As we wandered along the promenade we were treated to some spectacular displays as the waves smashed into the sea wall and created huge fountains of spray.

The Complexo Balnear da Barreirinha, a bathing area near the Sao Tiago Fortress, was well awash with the sea breaking over the area used for sun loungers and cascading into the pool. I don't imagine they were losing any business as the complex would be closed at this time of year but nevertheless it was all quite impressive.

The town has the Christmassiest feel of any of our northern hemisphere Christmas destinations. Forget the Blackpool Illuminations, forget the Regent St lights switch-on, if you want to see Christmas in lights the place to be is Funchal in December. I have no idea how long it takes the Municipality to set it all up and I shudder to think of the electricity bill, and they certainly have not heard of saving the planet by switching off the lights; millions upon millions of bulbs set the town ablaze with festive cheer. And, as you wander around gazing at the spectacle you are subtly serenaded by carols and Christmas songs from the temporary speakers set on lampposts throughout the central business district.

Flying to Funchal - 24 December 2008

It was an eventful trip from Gatwick to Funchal. The fun started at Gatwick when we went through security with the usual “empty your pockets, remove your belt” and, as sometimes happens, “remove your shoes”. All checked out OK so put shoes and belts back on and re-fill pockets. About 10 paces further on we are stopped again for a shoe check - time to take the shoes off again. What is wrong with these people? If they want to randomly re-check shoes with the "special shoe x-ray machine" then move it closer to the other x-ray units and select the people while they already have their shoes off.

The next problem was also caused at Gatwick, but we were unaware of it at the time. We decided to purchase some Duty Free spirits for gifts and checked to make sure that we could take the two litres we purchased on to the plane. We were assured that we could and certainly there were no issues boarding the aircraft. We touched down in Lisbon and followed the transfer route to our connecting flight to Funchal in Madeira. As sometimes happens we had to be re-checked for security. We had arrived from the UK, one of the strictest regimes in the EU, stepped off a plane and somehow had managed to secret bombs and weapons about our persons and hand luggage as it all had to be checked again. (Shoes on, this time.) However we were told we could not take the two litres of spirits on with us as is was not 'sealed'.

Two unopened bottles, purchased air-side at Gatwick with receipts to prove it were now serious weapons of mass destruction. What is wrong with these people? There was no discussion, it was against "the rules", so I had to leave the transfer route, exit the airport and enter again like any normal passenger beginning their journey at Lisbon and check in again putting the bottles in the checked luggage.

Fortunately we had a carry on bag that was large enough to accommodate the bottles so that was duly checked and we set off for our island destination. A couple of hours later we were descending into Funchal Airport when the engine thrust was suddenly applied again and we began climbing instead of descending. Apparently the rain was so heavy that the landing was aborted and we circled for nearly 30 minutes until the pilot thought it was safe enough to land. We must be getting close to 100 flights since we left NZ and this is the first time that we have ever had a landing aborted. That said, having seen how the Funchal runway is perched on a platform over the sea we were quite glad the pilot was risk-averse

Although the pilot was able to land second time round, it was still raining solidly as we were taken in to the centre of Funchal so we were fairly damp by the time we had located our hotel and laid in a few supplies to get us through Christmas Day when everything is shut.

(Many Funchal houses sported climbing Santas so we collected a few.)

Scene One: Seen the Mall - 20 December 2008

Since the New Zealand shopping mall scene is dominated by the Australian Westfield group it seemed only right and proper that we should check out Europe's largest inner city shopping mall which opened a couple of weeks ago just a few train stops from home. Because it is in West London and because they are seeking to take business from Oxford and Regent Streets in the West End, they simply recycled the company name and called the new mall Westfield.

Given the proximity to the well heeled areas of Kensington and Chelsea they have created a luxury retail area with all the big names of everybody who is anybody in the luxury goods market. But, even with that, a mall is a mall is a mall and they seem to look the same whether they are in London, Paris, Milan, Kuala Lumpur, Los Angeles, Auckland or Melbourne.

Since the day had improved, and was quite mild out, we wandered over to Sudbury to climb what we suppose is Sudbury Hill. Surprisingly, at 91m, it is higher than others nearby like Horsenden Hill and Barn Hill both of which we explored very early on in our stay. This one, the nearest, has taken us 7 years to find and climb.

Another four bridges - 14 December 2008

The morning began at Prior Park, now in the care of the National Trust. These are the grounds created by Ralph Allen, a wealthy 16th C philanthropist, who built a grand house (now a school) as 'a noble seat which sees all of Bath and which was built for all of Bath to see'. The grounds contain one of four only Palladian bridges left in the world. It made a lovely walk around the lakes on a crisp winter morning. [The four Palladian bridges are at Stowe Landscape Gardens (UK), Prior Park (UK), Wilton House (UK) {before the blog began} and Pushkin Palace (St Petersburg, Russia)]

From here we drove to Longleat, the home of Lord & Lady Bath. (Not wanting to pull the plug on the weekend’s running Bath theme.) This is an Elizabethan mansion, transformed in Victorian times, to reflect the styles the then Marquis fell in love with during his travels in Italy. The original great hall contained an enormous Christmas tree, the only festive decoration in the house. But we were very aware of the season, as the house was very cold; an indication of how difficult (as well as expensive) these grand houses must be to heat in winter. The beautiful rooms had no ceiling light fittings; this also gave a sense of stepping back in time and made the rooms come alive in a different era.