Have some Madeira, m’dear

As regular readers will know, I’m a great believer in serendipity where inspiration for new posts is concerned. Being blessed with a veritable rag-bag of a memory, when something occurs to shake it up, almost anything is liable to fall out. 

This became very clear when I decided to include a song by Flanders and Swann in my last post and later read the comments I received. Suddenly my mind was full of half-remembered songs and the memories they evoked and one in particular refuses to go away. 

Growing up as I did in the Lancashire countryside in the days before cheap holidays in the sun, the first time I heard the word Madeira was in another comic song by Flanders and Swann. I gathered that it was a drink of some kind, but it was years before I realised that it was named after an Atlantic island and decades before I first tasted this heavy, sweet dessert wine.

Through the years I continued to hear the name mentioned, usually by friends and family who had visited Madeira on holiday to enjoy its mild climate and famously prolific spring flowers. But it had never occurred to me to think of going there myself, until my next-to-youngest sister asked whether I would like to go with her sometime, since her own husband didn’t fancy it as a holiday destination and my DH flatly refuses to fly.

Naturally I agreed instantly and we finally decided to make the trip to mark her retirement at the beginning of 2010. The week we chose was exactly 2 years ago this week, and having booked at a lovely small hotel in the old town, just back from the seafront, we spent the hard winter of 2009-2010 looking forward to our holiday in the sun with great anticipation.

Unfortunately the weather had other ideas. That winter was bitterly cold in north-western Europe and the moist, warm westerlies which usually keep Britain reasonably frost-free most winters were pushed south by an influx of Arctic air and instead gave Madeira  and southern Europe their wettest winter for many years. On February 20th 2010 this wet winter culminated for poor Madeira in its worst storm for 100 years, resulting in catastrophic mudslides and flooding in the capital Funchal and along the south coast.  

Even a minute or two of this news footage gives a deeply sobering picture of the damage inflicted, and at first my sister and I couldn't imagine how the island would possibly be able to welcome visitors like us, who were due to arrive just three weeks later. Many holiday-makers cancelled their trips, but we felt that if we could possibly go we should do so, since an island which relies on tourism for so much of its income would find it even harder to recover if all the tourists stayed away.

Farming to the edge of the cliff

So on a cloudy Monday afternoon we arrived in Funchal to the warmest of welcomes from our friendly hotel staff and, despite the less than seasonal weather (only one really sunny day) spent a wonderful week exploring this most fascinating of islands. With its volcanic topography of high mountains and precipitous hillsides and its luxuriant vegetation at lower levels, it is very beautiful and very different from anywhere I had been before. 

Funchal Town Hall

Funchal  we both loved and we spent many hours exploring its compact centre on foot, walking on the striking black and white pavements and visiting a wonderful range of historic buildings (also largely black and white)  from the Art Deco farmers' market to convents, churches and the town hall square.  

Jesuit church and Town Hall Square

Convent of Santa Clara

Mercado dos Lavradores

Ceramic tile decoration in the market hall

On our one gloriously sunny day we even braved the cable car (I don’t do heights) to go up to the little village of Monte, 2000’ (600m) above sea-level, where we could look down over the whole of the city and its lovely bay.

Yes, I DID travel in one of these!

Monarch of all I survey

Coach tours took us to the interior - to the hidden valley of the Curral das Freiras (Nuns’ Refuge) and to the spectacular sea cliff at Cabo Girão, one of the highest in the world, where we looked down 1900’ (508m) through the rain to the sea.

Curral das Freiras - The Nuns' Refuge

Village of Curral das Freiras from viewpoint at 1053m

Cabo Girão - looking down almost 2000' (508m)

We visited the picturesque fishing village of Câmara de Lobos, named not after wolves, as its name might suggest, but after the now critically-endangered monk seals which once crowded its beach.  

Camara de Lobos - a view once painted by Winston Churchill

We also walked round the normally bustling little town of Ribeira Brava, which had been badly battered by the floods, but which, like Funchal itself, was working very hard to repair the damage.

A new seashore built from the debris of the floods

Repair work in Funchal - badly damaged storm drain

In the evenings we braved the blandishments of the restaurant staff in the Old Town, who tried hard to entice us to visit their establishment rather than the next, and enjoyed the local cuisine, with its emphasis on fish and beef, served in interesting ways and washed down with good Portuguese wine. We saw and photographed far too much to be included in a single post, but perhaps, if you've enjoyed this first little sip of Madeira, I may return to tempt you with another one day.

Bird of paradise flower

Madeira - island of flowers