The weather pundits' pessimistic prediction pertaining to today was a 95% probability of precipitation which precluded our participation in the programme previously planned for the day. So, instead of visiting some gardens further a field with the option of a levada walk, we remained closer to home and followed a tour around the city centre to look at some of the architecture and three churches. The contrast between the lavish interior of the Jesuit church and the plain interior of the circular English church could not be more marked.
Along the way we called in to see the Old Blandy Wine Lodge, a tourist trap built in one of the original wine premises in Funchal. If your pockets are deep enough you can purchase Madeiran fortified wine bottled in the late 19th century. We did not pay for the tour so did not see the vintages from those years but there were plenty of bottles on display that were as old as us; we did not bother enquiring what the price was.
In the Town Hall we came across a display of nativity scenes that were clearly the results of a competition to make a nativity scene from recycled or waste material; there were some most creative results.
We revisited the markets to see them as they should be and got suckered into buying an exorbitantly expensive selection of different flavoured passion fruit. There were seven in the bag, none of which looked like the passion fruit we are used to in NZ. According to the vendor the bag contained one each of lemon, peach, banana, tomato, pineapple and two we could not remember but although they looked quite different the taste was fairly uniform: at a bit over €10 we were well and truly 'had'. The 'tomato' one turned out to be a common old tamarillo that are a dime-a-dozen in NZ.
The next disappointment was the Boa Vista Orchid garden. Recommended in the guidebooks and supposedly in the middle of the flowering season, the €4.50 entry was about €3 over what it was worth for a walk around the muddy paths inside some run-down orchid houses with a few blooms on show.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Downhill adventures - 29 December 2008
According to the weather pundits, this was to be our best day so far (only 45% chance of rain!) so we hopped aboard the 81 Bus and set off for Eira do Serrado. At 1094m this is the starting point for a walk that descends 450m to Corral das Freiras (Nun's Valley). In 1566, the nuns of Santa Clara Convent came to this secluded valley to escape 1000 pirates who raided Funchal. This spectacular valley, almost entirely surrounded by steep sided mountains, was until 1959 only accessible on foot - the route we took. (TV only arrived in 1986)
The bus left Funchal in sunshine, but the sky over the hills ahead was very black. However, when we arrived at Eira do Serrado, although we were totally in a whiteout, it was only low cloud, not rain, so we set out. Only a short way down the hillside, the clouds parted briefly, to give us an encouraging glimpse of the spectacular view. As we descended, the glimpses were better, until we were totally below the cloud. It is a great walk, and on a fine day, must be absolutely stunning.
The actual town, when you eventually arrive, is quite boring. So as the bus timetable indicated a bus was due shortly, we decided to head straight back to Funchal. An enterprising taxi driver, who had obviously brought a fare up there, kept encouraging us and another gentleman at the bus stop, to accept a ride back to town. He set the fare at slightly more than a bus fare. He was happy to not go back empty; the elderly gentleman and we didn't need to wait in the cold, so all were winners.
As the afternoon was still fine, we decided to make the most of the remaining day, and make sure we didn't miss out on Funchal's unique tourist attraction, a basket ride from the hillside village of Monte, up in the cloud above Funchal. The total tourist deal would be to take a €10 cable car ride to Monte first, but as the day was dismal, and about a third of the ride would be in the cloud, we economised and took an 85c bus ride. Monte was totally surrounded by low cloud, but we weren’t aware of that as we enjoyed the basket trip down to below the cloud level, a 2k trip down steep roads, where a car had to stay behind us part of the way. Various websites suggest it is a total tourist rip-off, but we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.
Wicker baskets on wooden runners were originally used to get produce down the hill from Monte to Funchal, however the cobbled streets have been sealed, the run shortened to avoid the Funchal traffic and the produce replaced with tourists undoubtedly providing a better return than the produce ever did.
Dinner this evening was a real treat. We had seen Le Jardin restaurant, in the old town, earlier where one of the specialties is Scabbard fish cooked with banana. Various guidebooks mentioned this as a local delicacy so we thought we should try it. One tip is, 'do not visit the markets and look at the Scabbard fish first'. They are long black eel-like fish that are ugly and villainous, with jaws full of menacing teeth and huge evil eyes: enough to put one off for life. However, when put in a dish by the chefs at Le Jardin they are a gastronomic delight.
Le Jardin prides itself on the flambé dishes and the table we had was right beside the flambé chef so we had entertainment laid on for the evening. The problem was that we watched him prepare crepe suzettes and having seen the ingredients and smelt them cooking we felt compelled to try them too: oh the power of advertising!
The bus left Funchal in sunshine, but the sky over the hills ahead was very black. However, when we arrived at Eira do Serrado, although we were totally in a whiteout, it was only low cloud, not rain, so we set out. Only a short way down the hillside, the clouds parted briefly, to give us an encouraging glimpse of the spectacular view. As we descended, the glimpses were better, until we were totally below the cloud. It is a great walk, and on a fine day, must be absolutely stunning.
The actual town, when you eventually arrive, is quite boring. So as the bus timetable indicated a bus was due shortly, we decided to head straight back to Funchal. An enterprising taxi driver, who had obviously brought a fare up there, kept encouraging us and another gentleman at the bus stop, to accept a ride back to town. He set the fare at slightly more than a bus fare. He was happy to not go back empty; the elderly gentleman and we didn't need to wait in the cold, so all were winners.
As the afternoon was still fine, we decided to make the most of the remaining day, and make sure we didn't miss out on Funchal's unique tourist attraction, a basket ride from the hillside village of Monte, up in the cloud above Funchal. The total tourist deal would be to take a €10 cable car ride to Monte first, but as the day was dismal, and about a third of the ride would be in the cloud, we economised and took an 85c bus ride. Monte was totally surrounded by low cloud, but we weren’t aware of that as we enjoyed the basket trip down to below the cloud level, a 2k trip down steep roads, where a car had to stay behind us part of the way. Various websites suggest it is a total tourist rip-off, but we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.
Wicker baskets on wooden runners were originally used to get produce down the hill from Monte to Funchal, however the cobbled streets have been sealed, the run shortened to avoid the Funchal traffic and the produce replaced with tourists undoubtedly providing a better return than the produce ever did.
Dinner this evening was a real treat. We had seen Le Jardin restaurant, in the old town, earlier where one of the specialties is Scabbard fish cooked with banana. Various guidebooks mentioned this as a local delicacy so we thought we should try it. One tip is, 'do not visit the markets and look at the Scabbard fish first'. They are long black eel-like fish that are ugly and villainous, with jaws full of menacing teeth and huge evil eyes: enough to put one off for life. However, when put in a dish by the chefs at Le Jardin they are a gastronomic delight.
Le Jardin prides itself on the flambé dishes and the table we had was right beside the flambé chef so we had entertainment laid on for the evening. The problem was that we watched him prepare crepe suzettes and having seen the ingredients and smelt them cooking we felt compelled to try them too: oh the power of advertising!
Friday, January 02, 2009
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.)
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