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:: Kicking Back in Madeira
May 7, 2000
Kicking Back in Madeira
Funchal and Madeira, Portugal
On the eve of our arrival to Madeira, Portugal, Mary Lou asked me what shore excursion I was taking. "I don't know," I said, worn out by the maritime melodrama. Ignoring my mood she asked, "Are you going to slide down a hill in a basket?"
"Yes," I told her, perking up as it all came back to me. "As a matter of fact, I am."
The mountain village of Monte is where the fun begins. Apart from providing excellent views of Funchal, Madeira Island's capital city, the famous wicker toboggan rides launch from here.
Gentlemen dressed all in white save for tan, rubber-soled boots and straw hats, power the sleds. The front operators pull with ropes, while the rear operators push. Once the wooden runner sled gains speed, the rear drivers disappear. The comely front men drag the sled until gravity kicks in and then they jump on its back. They steer by turning the sled as sidewalks and vehicular traffic dictate. With a skateboard-like, push-kick movement, they propel it downhill for 1 mile to Livramento, another village just north of Funchal.
I winced at every pothole and held my breath at every intersection but laughed all the way down as I rode a piece of history.
Madeira's ideal climate popularized it throughout the 19th century as a health-enhancing destination that physicians recommended to cure a variety of chronic and acute illnesses. When wealthy guests needed access to Funchal, in lieu of an inoperative funicular, drivers waited outside the hotels and the toboggan rides became an alternate means of transportation, preferable to the long stairway down.
The steep toboggan jaunt was a nice complement to the relaxed pace of our morning walk along the levada. Built during the 15th century, the Levada is a government-owned and operated cultivation system carrying water to the steep terraces of sugar cane, bananas, and other crops. We followed parts of it for about a mile through a section of the Laurissilva Forest, "The Forest of Laurel Trees," home to fresh, cool mountain air, a bounty of assorted flora and the wake-up scent of eucalyptus.
Once back in Funchal, Mary Lou, Gail, Jan and I headed to the farmer's market. While meandering, admiring tropical produce and other assorted wares, a merchant's display of colorful woven handbags caught my attention. This shop also contained an impressive collection of vintage wines where I indulged my quest for a 10-year old bottle of sweet Madeira.
The wildly generous tastings literally elicited a scream to stop the pouring. "Yummy," characterized the 10-year vintage but jubilation flowed from the 15-year-old. Mary Lou whispered to me that she and Gail were off to comparison shop while Jan and I continued sampling. In minutes, our competitive intelligence yielded a thumbs-up for purchase. Apparently, we had found the best collection of vintage wines in the market for the right price - 4400 escudos or $22 for my 15-year old bottle.
Spoils in hand, we lunched al fresco at a marina restaurant while imbibing the ambience and perfect weather. We toasted finally having made it to an appealing, sun-soaked port and to our continuing adventure.
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