Not just for the silver-hair brigade
has taken place. I’m in the hilltop district of Monte, which looms 1,840ft above Funchal, the capital of Madeira. This lush little island, which sits 600 miles southwest of mainland Portugal, and west of the top of Africa, was first claimed by Portuguese sailors in the 15th century. Four hundred years later, wealthy residents built summer homes in this cooler, breezy district. Horse-drawn carts ferried people up but now, thanks to the cable car that was installed in 2010, you can float above the sinuous, terraces cut into the hill, which grow the grapes for Madeira’s famous wine, plus reams of tropical banana trees and eucalyptus plants. Getting back down, however, was a trickier proposition. The idea of using large, wicker toboggans came about in 1850. Attached to two wooden runners, passengers sit inside, and two men, or ‘carreiros’, steer it from behind, also acting – crucially – as brakes. Dressed in white, with straw boaters, they resemble Venetian gondoliers. The most important part of their uniform, however, is the thicksoled shoes they wear, which act as resistance. I’m about to find out how it actually works. The heavy contraption strains at the ropes as my two friendly carreiros, Tomas and Filipe, get ready to launch (carreirosdomonte. com, from £13.50pp). With a sickening lurch, we’re off – and it’s utterly terrifying. I’m told they can reach speeds of nearly 35mph, and as the wind whips past, the carreiros accelerate, swinging the toboggan from side to side – eliciting rather unladylike screams from its occupant – and bombing down the track as if they were going for gold in the Winter Olympics.
It’s over in about three minutes but it’s a wild ride. And as a first impression, it’s not exactly how I pictured Madeira. My granny came here on holiday, drawn, like many, to its year-round warmth, and it consistently attracts silver-haired hikers and nature lovers. But these days, the birthplace of footballer/ underwear model Cristiano Ronaldo – his bronze bust (above) greets you at Funchal airport – is hoping to shake off its slightly staid reputation and appeal to a broader range of visitors, including those who want to take part in more adventurous pursuits, like diving, paragliding or canyoning.
I’m not intrepid enough for any of those but the next morning I’m up before dawn to meet Marco from Discovery Island Tours for an off-road jeep safari (from £32pp, discoveryisland-madeira.com).
First, we climb steadily y upwards to one of Madeira’s ra’s highest points, Pico do
Arieiro (5,965ft), for a spectacular sunrise. I try to concentrate on what he’s saying about the Jurassic-era, Unesco heritage forest we pass through, steadfastly ignoring the prospect of tumbling into the gulfs and nd chasms formed by the many any hills and mountains that form Madeira’s undulating topography. Then it’s back down through narrow forest trails, bumping along bonejarring tracks, to the skywalk of the Cabo Girao cliffs.
This turns out to be a viewing platform with a giddying glass floor that extends over a cliff – at 1,903ft, it’s apparently the highest in Europe. I inch over it gingerly, looking down on to craggy, black rocks, the Atlantic sea churning at their base.
I spend my last couple of days on neighbouring Porto Santo, a two-and-ahalf hour ferry from Funchal (portosantoline.pt/ en; from £22 one
way). Where Madeira is fertile and verdant, Porto Santo is almost comically brown, rocky and barren. My guide, Nuno (tour from £18pp, lazermar.com) explains that any trees I see were hand-planted. ‘We’re like a small desert in the Atlantic,’ he laughs, ‘while Madeira is a big garden.’ However, it does have one huge weapon in its tourist arsenal – its seven-mile sw sweep of pale golden be beach. I get a great view of it after puffing up to one of the tiny island’s highest pe peaks, Pico do Castelo (1,434ft); at just 16 miles square, I can practically see all of it. Afterwards, Nuno takes me to Pico de Ana Ferreira, a weird-but-wonderful set of basalt rock formations, similar to the Giant’s Causeway. We end our tour with a glass of poncha, Madeira’s traditional – and rather strong – drink made with rum, honey, orange and lemon juice. ‘After a couple of these you’ll be speaking fluent Portuguese!’ jokes Nuno. I’m not sure about that, but after the adrenaline rushes I’ve experienced here, it’s a fitting finale. Fly London to Funchal from £61 one way, flytap.com. Rooms at Pestana Carlton Madeira, Funchal, from £95pn, pestana.com; at Vila Baleira, Porto Santo, from £63pn, vilabaleira.com. visitportugal.com/en/destinos/madeira
Remember to check entry requirements for the country you are planning to visit at gov.uk/foreign-travel-advice. Currently in England and Wales you do not need to quarantine on arrival or on return to Madeira and Porto Santo; a free test is given on arrival in Madeira