It will never be an Olympic event. First of all you need a toboggan that slides on cobblestones or pavement. Then, in addition to passengers, a man on either side has to restrain the toboggan so it doesn't careen out of control. Finally, in the interest of authenticity, the runs must be on the island of Madeira.
More than a hundred years ago someone got the bright idea of creating wicker sleighs and sliding people downhill to the coast. Not long after, someone had another bright idea: aren't tourists people?
The ride starts just below the black and white church of Monte. At the foot of the steps gather groups of men dressed in white shirts and trousers and fashionable straw boaters. Very British, if it weren't for the fact that they are playing cards with a very un-British gusto.
Nearby more men wait by a row of strange conveyances, high-back two and three-seater wicker chairs fixed to solid wooden runners. Tourists hesitantly approach, but once they are within the sphere of
influence there is no turning back. Helping hands make them comfortable and before they know it, two men are pulling the toboggan over the crest of the hill. Holding attached thongs they race alongside as it disappears around the first turn.
Madeira is mountainous, and from Monte's lush greenery, the climb to Pico do Arieiro is a journey through geologic time. A stretch of bright yellow gorse gives way to treeless, dust-swept mounds of volcano, 20 million years old. At that time, of course, it was covered by water. Only when it burst molten from the sea, did Madeira begin to take shape. Lava flowed and the earth shifted, creating great fissures and cliffs that can be seen from the peak, a view that is a mere 1.7 million years old.
Most visitors opt to gaze from easy outlooks or while sipping a strong cup of coffee. But a few hardy souls thread their way down rock paths until they are distant specks of color against the striated crags. In either case, an almost reverential awe comes over witnesses to this austere magnificence of nature.
As you have gathered, Madeira and its sister Portuguese islands 400 miles off the coast of Morocco are the eroded tips of ancient volcanoes. At one of them, a long series of steep stone steps leads puffing tourists upward. Impervious to the threat of cardiac arrest, they persevere until a platform is reached, and suddenly it's all worth while.
Below, very far below, is the Curral das Freiras, the Valley of the Nuns, where in 1566 the nuns of Santa Clara Convent fled a pirate invasion. How they climbed the mountains that cars and busses labor up
is a wonder, but it is no wonder why the pirates didn't follow.
On the peaks towering over the village of the same name, cultivated terraces have been improbably cut into sheer cliffs while houses climb next to them, step by step. An almost dry creek bed snakes toward the sea, visible when the clouds part, clouds that float below the tourists' perch. The road back to the capital city of Funchal switches back and forth through pine and eucalyptus forests, past razor-back ridges and white stucco houses garlanded with flowers. The scant 10 miles takes 30 minutes. To love Madeira it helps to love mountains.
Which is not to say that Madeira is nothing but mountains. Most tourists never set foot out of Funchal where the temperature is seldom too hot or too cold, the sun and sea are brilliant, dining is excellent and the local people are genuinely friendly. The Funchal market, a major tourist attraction, symbolizes Funchal's civility. In the absolute center of a large patio, an enormous bougainvillea sends sprays of color in all directions. Two open arcades run along the periphery and from the upper floor you can look down on the gracefully tiled floor. An artist's touch also has been applied to the marvelously arranged displays of fruits and vegetables, to the point where you wonder if shoppers will be permitted to buy and spoil the design. They will.
After all this restraint, it is a positive relief to enter the relative chaos of the fish market in the basement. The enormous tunas being hacked into chunks with ferocious cleavers, the bright orange sea bream, long sleek mackeral and fat groupers all were caught within the previous 24 hours. As was the very strange espada, a fish that lives at a depth of over 3000 feet. Four feet long and thin, they lie in rows head foremost, the better to stare with their great goggle eyes and bite with their razor sharp teeth.
Funchal is a very pretty city. It abounds in neatly patterned squares bordered by ancient buildings gussied up to look brand new. The cathedral is one such. Though it was begun in 1514, it is whitewashed as spanking clean as the tiers of houses that rise on the hills above town. Inside is another matter. Immediately you are plunged into a medieval gloom of obscure shapes and spaces. The choir stalls depict saints wearing 17th century garb and the altar is surrounded by paintings even older, but all are overcome by the stygian darkness.
For really old, locals suggest the Zona Velha (Old Town). But even here the tiny fishermen's houses have been converted to bistros and the 16th century chapel is getting a facelift. Only the fort, built in 1614, is still in need of repair. But if Funchal has shed many of its ancient airs, who can blame it. Not long ago Madeira was one of the poorest places in the world. Now it is doing very nicely, thank you. Bright and clean is better than picturesque poverty any day.
The Botanical Garden is only 5 minutes from downtown but considerably higher. In fact, part of the attraction is the view of Funchal's thousands of red tile roofs set off by the deep blue sea. But the main event is the lovely display of flowers in an amazing profusion of color and the huge old trees and shrubs set behind broad pebble paths. Fuschias grow taller than a man. Cactus mix with cedars. "Everything grows here," says a local woman and it appears to be true.
The ride back is, obviously, downhill. If the driver takes a shortcut, this means driving a road that is one car's width, a heart-in-mouth descent around blind curves past pedestrians who couldn't care less. Infants play by the side of the road, inches from cars that shoot past. There seems to be a tacit agreement: we won't stray too far into the road, you won't hit us. The same insouciance is displayed by young lovers climbing hand in hand, housewives lugging groceries and wizened octagenarians scaling slopes that would destroy Jane Fonda, Richard Simmons and Body by Jake.
Photographers beware! The north coast may be less than 20 miles from Funchal, but getting there will take all day. If you can control yourself. The first digression is at Monte where those earth-bound
toboggans will eat a roll of film. Then the mountains of Pico do Arieiro and the walk to Balcoes (about which, more later), before plunging into some of the most gorgeous farmland on earth.
Seen from above, Madeira looks like a prehistoric monster sheathed in lustrous green scales. It was not always like this. When discovered by Portuguese explorers in 1420, Madeira was covered with an impenetrable forest. For centuries, with what must have been herculean effort, African slaves and generations of farmers felled the trees. Into the slopes they sculpted terraces, built stone walls to retain them, enriched them with soil carried up from the valleys and planted sugar cane, vineyards and bananas. Today these vest pocket gardens are also rich with mangoes, avocados, passion fruit and on the higher fields, vegetables interspersed with apples, plum and cherry orchards. Errant rays of sun spotlight villages straddling lush green ridges. Clouds hide the highest peaks and under their canopy, tiny fields of vegetables step their way down to the riverbeds. Neat white farmhouses are bordered with living color while nursery-perfect nasturtiums and agapanthus grow wild by the roadside.
Even worse for photographers are the levadas, the ingenious network of channels -over 1300 miles of them - that carry water from springs and reservoirs to farmers throughout the island. Their waters tumble by the edges of fields, down the slopes of hamlets, over bridges and are so photogenic that driving becomes an exercise in finding yet another place to stop.
The first official record of levadas dates from the 15th century, but half of them were constructed in the 20th, sometimes by men hacking at solid basalt while suspended in wicker baskets. To tend the water courses, pathways run alongside. Not only are they often level and wide, but they track the most beautiful areas of the island. To Balcoes, for example.
Snugged against a cliff in the town of Ribeiro Frio, a concrete trough a foot or so deep carries water down a slight incline to the neighboring fields. After a 15 minute walk under arching trees there is an exit from the path which follows the levada for miles should anyone wish to continue. From a small platform an incredible panorama of peaks and cliffs, forest and farms and white villages consumes one more roll of film.
Another easy, but wonderful, levada walk is to the Risco waterfall. The warmup act isn't bad either. It consists of a drive across the Paul da Serra, a plateau where cows and sheep graze on vast open plains. In fact it could be Montana if it weren't for gorges cracking the earth on either side.
At Rabacal, a path overhung with mossy trees follows a levada that is replenished by glistening rivulets. The calm is interrupted by a distant murmur, growing gradually louder until the forest drops to a deep narrow valley. Far above a veil of water mists downward. Into the lava a tunnel has been carved. Those willing to get damp follow it to rock windows bordered with ferns for a miles-long look down the valley. At the bottom is a pool and a stream and hikers who are picnicking at yet another levada.
When the coast is finally reached, nature puts on a different display. From Porto Moniz to Sao Vicente the Atlantic crashes against huge headlands while a road that would put the Amalfi Drive to shame leads drivers under and through the hand hewn stone. It is greener here, more lush than the south, but more fearsome, too. Though the terrace vineyards are bursting with health, they need extra protection from the elements. Each is enclosed by a dense fence of dried heather and bracken, as if thousands of bristle brushes were lying on their backs.
It is said that 80 percent of the visitors to Madeira never leave the environs of Funchal. As pretty and interesting as the city is, it is a city. To see Madeira in all its amazing variety and beauty, you have to leave town. The others may not know what they're missing or even care. You will know. And you'll be happy you did.
HOW TO GET THERE: TAP Air Portugal, tel. 800 221-7370, has daily flights from Lisbon to Madeira. Several European airlines have direct flights from major European cities to Funchal.
CLIMATE: Madeira has one of the best climates anywhere, with warm, sometimes hot, days and balmy nights year round. Flowers are everywhere, varying, as the temperature does, according to altitude. Rain is likely in autumn, coming in short bursts. Mornings are usually clear, best for mountain sightseeing, with cloudy afternoons offering shade from the sun.
GETTING AROUND: Driving gives the most freedom but is only for the intrepid. Madeira's roads are excellent, but steep and winding. In addition to local agencies, Hertz, Avis and Europcar rent cars in Madeira. Tour busses visit the major attractions of the island and can be booked at hotels. Hotels can also arrange tours with taxi drivers who speak English. Two people in a taxi will pay about as much as two on a tour bus. More than two will pay less per person. Public busses are inexpensive and travel from Funchal throughout the island.
WHERE TO STAY: 5 star hotels are located on Funchal's waterfront Hotel Zone, a 15 minute walk from the center. the Casino Park Hotel, designed by Oscar Niemeyer of Brazilia fame, is a huge luxury hotel with large pool, tennis courts, complete health club and adjacent gambling casino. The Madeira Carlton has 2 large pools, one with access to the ocean, expansive sundecks, scuba, tennis and health club facilities, 4 restaurants and 3 bars. Reid's Hotel is the queen of Madeira, one of the prestigious Leading Hotels of the World. Luxurious, dignified and beautiful, it dates from 1891, has lovely gardens and the finest facilities. Tel. 800 223-6800. There are many 4 and 3 star hotels, time share rentals and inexpensive pensions. Refer to guide books or contact the Portuguese Tourist Office.
WHERE TO EAT: In Funchal, Chez Oscar at the Casino Park Hotel and the Taverna Grill at the Madeira Carlton offer gourmet dining at excellent prices. There are many small, fun and inexpensive restaurants in the Old Town. For lunch, Vinha Verde, tel. 220 986, an old wine warehouse, is one of many holes-in-the-wall on Rua da Queimada de Cima, near the cathedral.
MDEIRA WINE: The wine that made Madeira famous. To see how it was made in the 16th century, visit the Adegas de Sao Francisco in Funchal, tel. 742 121. On the way to Cabo Girao, stop at the Henriques & Henriques winery for a tour of the most modern facility on the island, followed by a tasting. Tel. 36 767.
TO BUY: Leather goods, sweaters and ceramics are good buys. Handmade embroidery is an island specialty. Honey cakes will keep until next Christmas.
SWIMMING: Madeira is an island without beaches, so sunbathing is done at hotel pools. Unless you take the 20 minute flight or 1 1/2 hour catamaran to Porto Santo, Madeira's sister island with a 6 mile long sand beach and not much else. Most visitors don't bother, although it is undeveloped and unspoiled.
LEVADA WALKS: The bible for walkers is John and Pat Underwood's "Landscapes of Madeira," available at the Funchal Tourist Office and souvenir shops or from Sunflower Books, 12 Kendrick Mews, London SW7 3HG, UK. Details of 80 long and short walks, 27 picnic suggestions and 6 car tours.
TOBOGGAN RIDES in Monte cost about $11 per person for 2 kilometers, about $16 for 4 kilometers.
PACKAGE TRIPS: Travel Go Round, tel. 800 293-0076, offers 6 nights with breakfast in a 5 star hotel, sightseeing and round trip air on TAP from New York.
RECOMMENDED READING: While on Madeira, carry Passport's s "Illustrated Guide to Madeira," (4255 West Touhy Ave., Lincolnwood, IL 60646.) Follow its excellent walks and drives, expecially the Western Madeira and Central Madeira drives. For in-depth history, local culture, politics, etc. read the Insight Guide to Madiera.
FOR FURTHER INFORMATION: contact the Portuguese National Tourist Office, 590 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10036. Tel. 212 354-4403.
