We had two days chugging through the sea a long way off the coast of Africa. There was a distinct feeling that I was leaving all the exotic stuff behind. We only had two stops ahead and they were both easily accessible from home and distinctly European. They did not have quite the same cache as Brazil or the Falklands. But I was determined to squeeze every last drop out of the experience.
I was making the most of the sun. It was cooler and had lost that tropical rawness but there were still plenty of UV rays to transform into Vitamin D. Sunlight is very bad for the skin but it does have a way of lifting the spirit. To get up, thrown on a T-shirt and shorts and step out into the warmth is a pleasant experience. In another week I would be disembarking into the winter chill of England. I was hoping for a miracle. Perhaps March would have an unprecedented tropical heatwave. It was a forlorn hope. I knew that we were more likely to be suffering cold and drizzle for the next couple of months. There could even be snow!
I sat around on deck reading or writing. I took my customary position at the bows, camera in hand, watching for a few last whales or dolphins. Not one showed their face. It seemed to me that the only time dolphins showed up was when I wasn’t around. They then delighted in bouncing out of the water, spinning around and grinning, just to mock me – the bastards.
Madeira loomed out of the sea bathed in sun with bright blue skies. I quite like Madeira but I prefer a shiraz. At least we were lucky with the weather. We were being chased by a big storm and reputedly Madeira has suffered fourteen days of miserable rain. We were hitting a magic window of opportunity.
Funchal looked good. The town nestled under snow-capped mountains. To have snow on those mountains was unusual. It added a bit to it.
They chose nice places to build ports. I suppose there is a reason for that. All these ports, cosied up in bays under the protection of a circle of mountains, had been established there for a reason. It wasn’t because they thought it might look attractive to pasty tourists. Those ports were set up in the days of those big wooden sailing boats. The bays were selected merely because they afforded a place to berth that was protected from the elements.
Funchal was one of those. It was a good place for Portuguese ships to pop into on their way to more exotic regions. Madeira was a way off from Portugal but was part of Portugal. It was renowned for four things – the brilliant temperature that endured all year through, the picturesque cliffs, the cable car that took you up into the mountains and to the Botanical Gardens, and this weird toboggan ride down the mountain in wicker-basket toboggans. That sounded fun.
Madeira was another of those volcanic islands. You could see that from the rocks and soil. It had that reddish brown volcanic colour. I suppose that all land is really the result of volcanoes or at least tectonic uplifts. It certainly made for interesting landscape and fertile gardens.
We headed off to investigate.
There was a nice promenade with Palm trees and lots of statues and artwork. There was one of Christiano Ronaldo! The sun was very pleasant!
We arrived at the cable car and headed up into the rarified atmosphere of the mountains. It was a great ride up with views over the city, cliffs and tropical plants. It was awash with colour. There was a great café at the top with a view over the bay and city below. There were no coconuts to drink but they did a smashing frozen yoghurt with nuts and honey.
Refreshed with set off to discover the delights of Monte. Up on the hill was a beautiful little chapel with typical Portuguese tilework and painted ceilings.
Further along we ran into the toboggan rides. A gang of guys all with a studied Portuguese swagger, wearing white shirts and trousers topped off with boater hats, were carelessly unloading the wicker toboggans off a lorry, standing around posing and smoking before launching tourists off down the street. I watched. We’d been considering having a go but on inspection it looked pretty tame and we decided against. It was an interesting tradition and we ought to support it. But it looked a bit naff. I have an aversion to touristy things.
Up the steps was the cathedral. At least that’s what I suspected it was. I don’t know the difference between a big church and a cathedral. If ‘Our Mother of Monte’ wasn’t a cathedral it ought to be. It was beautiful. If the blue tile-work and painted ceilings of the chapel were delightful the quality of the art in that cathedral was in another dimension. Being an antitheist I often despair at the rituals and superstition of religions but even I have to admit that some of the greatest creative minds have poured their talents into religious buildings around the world. Or is it merely that the churches, mosques and temples had the power and money to employ the best?
Having filled our spirits with beauty we headed back down to do a hop-on hop-off around the city and up into the mountains. It was a pretty place.
In the afternoon we wandered up into the old town, had a look round the fort and through the narrow streets. All of the doors had been painted with different artwork that reflected the personality of the owners. They were extremely colourful and amusing. The whole area was a maze of restaurants all touting delicious foods with enticing smells leaking out into the alleyways. There were art and craft shops and an atmosphere of a bohemian culture. The sort of place I would have liked to have dallied in and investigated more.
We had a beer and sat around and watched life go by then we bought a couple of bottles of Madeira and headed off.
In the town square there was another fort. The whole world is covered in them. Human beings are a war-like species. We love violence and cruelty and seem to operate on the philosophy that instead of growing and making goods it is far easier to wait until somebody else has done all the hard work and then wade in and take it off them. At the same time you can have fun chopping people to bits, raping all the women and burning everything down.
We have a long despicable history behind us. I wonder what lies ahead?
We settled ourselves in a suitable café lavishly decorated with characteristic blue Portuguese tilework depicting Madeira in the past when it was a small town in the midst of tropical paradise and a few sailing boats in the bay – a bit different to the sprawling city that now exists and the stream of cruise-liners that were constantly passing through. I found myself thinking that I would have loved it even more back in those times – before the world was flooded with the hordes of humanity. Those tiles depicted an ideal looking scene. I also noticed that someone had smashed all the faces in one of the scenes. Was that some demented, intolerant Muslim who had desecrated the faces in the name of Islam?
We ordered a beer and listened to the excellent guitarist who was entertaining us. The temperature was still nice and warm. The beer was cool. The guitarist was brilliant. I discovered that I had enjoyed Madeira much more than I had anticipated. It was a place I wouldn’t mind coming back to for a longer visit. It had a nice feel to it.
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Not too sure about all the art. An experience not to be missed for you.
Those doors were so colourful and charming. Not high art but fun.
I am sure
Behind each door was a secret!
Maybe our life is meant to be a secret, all will be revealed at our end
It’s a mystery to me.
I am surprised at that
Everything is a surprise to me.
I think one of the things that catches my attention the most about these cities you’ve visited is the way they just seem to sprawl for miles. We live at the base of the Wasatch mountain range, but the valley is so flat we don’t have a feeling of that here at all. In fact no where in my travels in the US have I noticed that. The closest I’ve come is Quebec City in Canada. ( I quite like Madeira but I prefer a shiraz. 😀 Never had a shiraz. What’s that? I’m usually a white zin person. Or a whiskey sour with a beer chaser! )
Shiraz is a red wine. All cities and towns seem to be expanding in great suburban sprawls. America seems to have more room. It also probably has less of a population increase.
It originates from France the Rhone region and is delicious, try it Cheryl. You can get a Californian Shiraz but the French superb.
Very rich and tasty.
Yes indeed, but like most reds one glass is enough for me, I get a headache from reds for some reason. Love Californian Whites.
Anna is right – reds can be a bit heavy and give you a hang-over but I prefer them and can manage a tad more than one glass.
Well you are a MAN yes you would. Mind you going by some girls/women thees days they down pints of beer and all the rest, so unladylike, they act more like men whereas the young men of today are too soft and need to stand up to these unladylike bullying women.
Unladylike bullying women are a pain.
Yes they are, I hope you are not referring to me. My trouble has always been I behaved too well and never hit back when I should have!!
Anna you are never unladylike and bullying!
Or not that I know of!
I like the added “bit”. Now the question is do I believe what you say or are you being sarcastic. Unladylike, well I was too scared growing up to be other and it stuck, bullying perhaps I would have been better off I might have avoided some of the violence. I do swear, you know that and it is not nice and I hopefully apologise for it. I get very passionate about things, I have Irish blood that boils up in me at times and I was born in May (like you) now that says it all. Still not sure about your answer!!
There’s nothing unladylike about being strong or passionate. To stand up for what you believe.
I don’t know what you’re like in reality, but you come across as a lady to me
I accept that compliment and thank you. Yes I am passionate and a romantic, I think you know that. Opher, my trouble is I am too open what you see is what you get. I have had my moments when I have lost control many can say that. I got drunk several times when my mother pushed me too far and I could not cope, I admit it I have nothing to be ashamed about, then one night drunk I saw her face smirking at me and I knew it was what she wanted I vowed she would never see me like that again and she never did. Looking back I have been through a lot and continue to do so, making such Friends as you over the Internet has helped me immensely, as does my music, my writing and biggest of all my two precious Sons, who have been through things no child should see or hear. It’s happened nothing I can do about it that’s gone, this is now as you are always telling me. Trouble is physical scars heal, mental scars are there forever. Forgive me for sometimes being too sentimental but that’s me, I never hide a thing, I am not capable of it.
It is very hard when you have been so hurt to move on. But I think that is what you have to do. we have to make the most of the time we have left to us and not waste a second. There are good things ahead. You cannot forget or eradicate the past. Just look at your lads and Daisy and think about what is to come.
That is all I can do. I have bad days as you know and they are “bad” and I must try and brighten them a little, if that makes sense.
I know. I imagine it must be really hard.
Thanks for understanding or at least trying to.
You can’t stand in someone elses shoes but at least you can try to appreciate what they feel like.
Thanks Opher, that means a lot.
It’s nothing much. Empathy is a human characteristic. It’s our better side.
I see.
I wish everyone could develop more empathy. The world would be a lot better place if people could appreciate a little of how other people felt or what pain they were inflicting on other people and animals. I think I can understand a little of what you’ve been through. Perhaps you should write a book about your life?
I started but just left it, maybe one day I will go back.
Do that. It would be packed with drama.
Have already done 6108 words, drama yes you could say that. Who the hell would publish it you are having enough problems with yours.
Publish it yourself for you and your kids. Then think about getting it done through a publisher.
It is an idea my Sons know it all, and they lived through it too remember
I’m sure they’d cherish a memoir of your life.
Jonathan would never read it, I have all my Diaries and he told me he would never look at them, on the other hand David said he would be interested to see what was in them – well nothing exciting that’s for sure. YET?
Well I think to document the horrors of your upbringing and sadness of your marriage and explain your feelings about it all would be very worthy of interest. And I’m sure they would both read it. Living in through it is one thing but to hear someone else’s view is something else.
Well as I said I have made a start, I don’t feel too sad when I write about it, childhood you think it’s normal because you have no other experience and people hid things, happy tears of Ireland, but now just annoyed that I wasted so much time. I wonder had I not had a child when I realized that the marriage was a mistake, if I would have walked, having nowhere to go would I have walked? If David or my mother came back now they would see a complete different person – not a fool who takes crap. Oh, Opher , IF only the bloody clock could be turned back how different I would have made it. Would you read my story if I completed it one of these days?
I certainly would. I’m sure it would be oozing with interest, even if it was a bit tragic at times.
Thank you, for sure there would be hardly anything sexy in it. I will go back to it and try and do some once a week maybe, trouble is like you once I start I keep on and on.
It becomes obsessive. Writing is good for you. It feeds the mind.
I must admit writing has always helped me. I had to go to Drs today for another INR and I took your book with me to read, yes I have nearly finished it, next few days, at last. Anyhow what I was trying to say was the book mark I had was sheets of paper with poems I had written. I just write away.
Good. That’s how it should be. Writing is cathartic. Writing is life.
Apologies, I forgot to say I am off now for the night, enjoy the Grandchildren are they staying with you for the week, have great fun. “Sleep Warm” – Anna
Have a good night Anna
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I enjoy travelling, writing and photography. This combines all three.