Just back from Madeira.
Funnily enough we arrived (courtesy of British Airways) on the same day as Cunard’s Queen Elizabeth which we would have been on had we not cancelled our booking in favour of a cruise to the Canary Islands and Lisbon at Easter.
This was our first visit to Madeira, an autonomous region of Portugal that is 250 miles north of the Canary Islands, 320 miles west of Morocco and 700 miles south west of ‘mainland’ Portugal.
‘Madeira’ is Portuguese for wood and when the island was first inhabited in the 15th century it got its name from the abundant forests.
Our hotel in Funchal, the capital, had its own landscaped gardens and although the trees blocked our view of the sea it offered a wonderfully quiet (and green) retreat from the busier tourist areas.
We ate outside surrounded by flora and fauna (mostly lizards). Less welcome were the midges. (Note to self: take insect repellent next time.)
We were keen to explore the island so we hired a car and driver who took us from Funchal in the south to the north of the island via a car friendly mountain route.
Our first stop however was a small fishing village where Winston Churchill painted ‘Câmara de Lobos, the fishing port of Madeira’ in 1950.
Today the harbour is overlooked by the ‘historic’ Pestana Churchill Bay hotel. There’s also a statue of Churchill with his paintbrush and easel. He’s smoking his trademark cigar and included in the sculpture is a seat so people like me can have their photo taken next to the great man.
Since the Nineties the EU has helped finance multiple tunnels through the hills so it’s now much quicker and easier to drive around the island but it was far more interesting to go a little off piste.
Our driver pointed out a single track road that people used throughout the 20th century before the tunnels were built. It clung to the edge of a cliff with a steep drop to the sea below.
He told us that buses as well as cars used the road and if they met one or the other had to reverse until a passing place could be found.
Use of the old road is now prohibited and if anyone ignores the ‘no entry’ signs and gets hit by falling rocks, for example, their car insurance will be invalid.
Another thing we discovered is that Madeira has several micro climates. In the south it was warm and sunny but on that same day, on the other side of the mountains, it was cool and cloudy with a hint of rain in the air.
Even Funchal in the south has two micro climates, one at sea level and another higher up where grey clouds often obscure the tops of the surrounding hills.
No visit to Madeira would be complete without a ride on the Funchal cable car, a 15-minute journey from the old town to the Monte Palace Tropical Gardens high up on the hillside.
However we declined the option of returning in a ‘traditional basket sledge’, a method of transport that dates back to the 19th century. There’s only so much excitement I can take in one afternoon.
Would I go back to Madeira? Possibly. We loved our hotel, the staff were lovely and everyone was very friendly.
As a Brit the relatively mild climate is probably what you’d wish for - not excessively hot and rarely cold - but I sense (and one local resident confirmed this) that the island is struggling to decide what type of tourist destination it ultimately wants to be.
Tourists are predominantly from the UK and Germany although we also heard some French voices. Most age groups were represented but I noticed there were few teenagers or people in their twenties on the plane.
The days are long gone when Madeira was a health resort - like a warmer St Moritz - for the well-to-do. The question is, how far (if at all) should it go to attract more (and younger) holidaymakers?
In my opinion it’s already gone as far as it should but I’m not responsible for the local economy. I’d like to think though that Madeira could benefit just as much by not becoming another Costa del Sol and if that makes me sound like a snob so be it.
That said the quirkiest and most unexpected place we visited was Jasmin Tea House, a short bus or taxi ride from Funchal where you can ‘sip hot English tea by the fire’, though not in August obviously.
Instead we sat outside under a tree on a small patio eating freshly made scones and chocolate cake while chatting to the English owner Nick and an Irish couple (mother and daughter) who had been walking along one of the local levadas.
If I heard him correctly Nick inherited the tea house from his father, who lived and died on the island, re-opening it in 2014, three years after he himself moved to Madeira.
Sitting there, high up on a hill outside Funchal with the sea in the distance, was probably the closest we got to experiencing the island as it was prior to the era of mass tourism.
Alternatively it was drinking cocktails on the terrace at Reid’s Palace, a ‘traditional’ luxury British hotel overlooking the Atlantic.
William Reid, who built it, first arrived in Madeira in 1836. Son of a Scottish crofter, he died before it opened in 1891.
I should add that Reid’s was not where we were staying (it was way out of our league at £700 a night) but it was worth a visit if only to take a step back in time and imagine we had travelled to Madeira to enjoy the island’s mild and therapeutic climate.
