Saturday 14 August 2010

Hiking Madeira, part 2



It's not what it looks like: this isn't the sun setting on my latest hiking season in Madeira. It's only mid-afternoon, Friday August 13th, and what you're looking at is a cloud of smoke and ash eminating from a forest fire halfway across the island, casting an apocalyptic glow above Funchal, Madeira's capital, as it rained an ash of eucalyptus leaves all evening and through the night. Strange and haunting.

Thanks to Amélie? for the great photo.

Above the clouds but not as high as you may think: in the photo below I'm contemplating the view from only 1600m, a plateau near the summit of the island. The Madeiran clouds form between 800 and 1200m in the laurel forests, while the high plateaus and summits, often above the clouds, are laden with low-lying brush and heather, rarely seeing the rain.
The jagged hills are sculpted with terraces, work that began in the early 15th century when the Portuguese first arrived, setting fire to the dense forests and carving the lands for their crops.



My house for a night during week one: the hotel was fully booked, and so this guide was given a house to himself on the volcanic sands, complete with a garden, terrace, and even a dog. I held a digestif here for the group,where we sampled the rum made by the nearby distillery under a canopy of vines.




Speaking of volcanic sands...
The island boasts few beaches, being only 8 million years old. Below are the volcanic sands of Porto da Cruz, where we enjoyed (for those on the découverte de Madère tour) a short swim after the first day's walk.


Week 1: Mimi, amateur photographer, contemplates the same sands.

Laden with ferns, and set in a forest of eucalyptus and mimosa, below is a shot of the northern slope of Penha d'Aguia, or "Eagle's point", set 590m above the village of Porto da Cruz, an arduous 2-hour climb out of the starting blocks of the village.

It's the toughest day of hiking of the weeklong découverte de Madère tour: a day culminating with a 704-step staircase leading to the charming village of Sao Roque. But that wasn't enough to tire my third group, who insisted, after dinner, to descend the steps by headlamp and down to the river for a night swim...

Speaking of which...


My first group during the descent of "Eagle's Point", with a view of the town of Faial in the background. My t-shirt had been completely saturated during the climb, enough to be wrung out; and so my descent was shirtless, the day finishing with a massive sunburn...

Zucchini flower. With a temperate climate, ample water, and rich soils, everything grows big in Madeira, including the 3-foot-long zucchinis we'd see along the paths.

Passion flower above a levada (irrigation canal). They grow wild all over the island. Why is it named as such? For a much less romantic reason than you may guess. Take a careful look at the reproductive parts of the plant: hammers and nails, the instruments of the Passion of Christ.

Below, The sun penetrates through the island's primitive laurel forests, once covering the island as a whole, and today only covering about 15%. Primitive because the same forests covered all of Europe 65 million years ago. But Madeira, temperate in climate, and resistant to change, has kept these magnificent laurel trees up until today.


No sandwiches for my groups for lunch!! The preparation of salads becomes a convivial lunchtime effort, where everyone chips in. I'm no expert of Madeira, and after 3 more weeks spent on the island I still can't speak Portuguese, but my lunches are damn good!


My mango chicken salad...


Near the Pico Ruivo, the island's 1861m summit:

There are 1500km of levadas (irrigation canals) on an island only 58km long by 23km wide. And where the natural contours of the mountains didn't allow for the continuation of a gentle slope for a canal, tunnels were built through the mountains. Get out your headlamps, and watch your heads: the low ceilings have walloped more than one of my hikers...

On the gentler tour I lead in the south, following the Levada Nova for about 8km:

Gentle except for this day of hiking: a 500m climb climb before a descent seen in the photo below, on a magnificent cobbled path zigzagging its way down to Paul do Mar among a chaos of volcanic cliffs.

On the ruins of a house in Jardim do Mar.

Most of the buildings and homes are new and well-kept on the island, the fruits of the post-1986 boom when Portugal joined the European Union. Roads and tunnels were built, jobs created, and many Madeirans from the diaspora returned. In the 40s and 50s there was still no electricity on the island, many of the families moving to Venezuela, Brazil, and South Africa for work.
The jump from subsistance farming to a modern, internet generation was shockingly quick. Just steps away from an internet café you can follow a levada through a field, where a couple uses a sickle to cut their crops and tend to their fields...

The town of Jardim do Mar at the outset of a 2-hour climb...

Sunset on Paul do Mar, from the hotel where we stay all week:

Ah, Brisa Maracuja! God's gift to soft drinks, made in Madeira, from actual passion fruit (9%!), refreshing after sweating up and down the island's steep paths. I should look into exporting this stuff!

Climbing up to the town of Santana, on an old cobbled path, with a ginger lily in the foreground.

My group's home in Sao Roque, after walk 2, as our usual hotel was full. It's an old family house in Sao Roque, draped in a rainbow of Bougainvillea. The old woman who owns the home was present, a former schoolteacher from Funchal. She did my laundry and hung my clothes to dry as I left with half of the group to bathe in the river at night...

A small shack near Sao Jorge:

My third and last group of the season, at the outset of our walk, above the clouds, before our climb of Pico Ruivo. Something just clicked this week, and right from the start: a strong bond within the group, full of laughter and friendship. Always bittersweet: the joy of sharing and of heartwarming encounters mixed with fleeting relationships, intense for a week and then vanishing with the arrival of the next group. It's something I'll probably never get used to. But hey: in my job I have little to complain about...


Friday, August 13th. The fire seen from Pico Arieiro, at the end of the day's walk.


Within 15 minutes of arriving at the end of the walk we were engulfed by the far-reaching smoke, carried by the strong winds. Luckily our taxis arrived quickly, taking us down to Funchal.