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And so it was at the ripe old age of about 11 months & something (59 years ago) I arrived on Madeira (my 2nd island) on route from my 1st island & birthplace (UK) to my home to be South Africa.
Fortunately this time I didnt have to swim ashore as previously, as they had built a harbour in the interim in 1977, Oh , but we flew this time anyway.
10 days to Xmas & the island was in full swing with festivities, traditional dancing, village bands decked out with 'dunny plunger caps', fairylights that you needed a machete to hack your way home down the main street, and then of course the tartan mini skirt, legs to the top of their ears, delicious, pixie hat clad maidens that lifted the tone & make it all worthwhile.
The statue of a devout monk or priest that annually (presumably) just prayed for his annual drink or a inebriated student passerby to top him up.
A town initiative was also to paint any or all doorways in the alleys with whatever inspiration took your fancy and overcame you. Some were carved, some painted, others embellished, with all and sundry.......some with bare
breasts, gangsters, cartoon characters, 3D illusions, ecological creations & political statements.
The following day we scouted the fresh produce market early & satisfied our caffeine craving before making our way to the 'Levada do Furado' !
A fairly short combi ride to the top of a precarious position up some mountian to walk along paths cut out of the mountian side by the early settlers. They had either cut out and carved or built channels to feed the mountian streams ever so gently down to the valleys and their market gardens.
Some of the levadas were a mere 1000m sheer drop that they had to chisel and cut out of the rock face, whilst hanging precariously from a wicker basket. Needless to say, many were lost.
That afternoon I was cajoled into a very scarry (vertigo inducing) cable car ride, half way up the mountian again before having to hike the rest to the lofty heights of the botanical gardens & museum. Wobbly kneed & dizzy, exhausted from being dragged up the other half, it then started raining presumably to cool us down. The gardens were however quite magnificent and well worth the effort, with tropical specimens &
orchids to a colossal cacti collection.
We then slid down the cliff like streets back to town to be greeted to a traditional medieval type village xmas cook up in 3 legged (African looking) pots of soup of many varieties, unleaven flat bread to accompany it & the villagers dressed in period costume carrying old milk urns or wicker baskets of produce on shoulder poles, there were some carving wooden spoons in the centre of the village square.
Ravenous from the exhausting days outing we gorged ourselves to bursting, then slothed our way home through the myriad ofxmas lights that were slung, hooked, hung in trees, walls, doorways, between buildings, even giant stars lay on the ground around the harbour place. We slept well that night.
The next morning on route to our caffeine fix, we flippantly slid into the fish market to mortify ourselves at the 'black scabbard fish', a grotesque meter long, black, bulbous eyed, piranha toothed local delicacy that needs to be fished from 800 - 1200m deep !
Of the many numerous varieties, there were gigantic (as thick and tall as a human) tuna, eels, various reef varieties and a multitude of smaller sardine looking
morsels.
Then.........back up the mountian (OK, Madeira is a volcanic protrusion, so probably the way it should be) to take on the harem-scarem, steepest hill on the island, down hill basket slide. You sit two in each cart (read wicker basket go cart) then two drivers pull you to get started flying down the precipice like street, then they jump on the back rail of the cart, on one foot and the other used to drag on the road as a brake and/or to guide the cart (what would their mothers say arriving home with such scuffed shoes) down the streets from colliding with cars or buildings.
It was all over far too quickly.
With adrenalin still surging in our veins, we decided a little cleansing ale and steadier before traipsing into the village might relax us a little. Just as well as another singing, dancing band, dressed to the 9's slowed the pace & then stopped at the church where another procession halted their progress as Madeira's bishop & entourage, flags, staffs, burning incense pot inhand made its way to the front stair. Hilariously, here at the height of the 'sermon on the stair' to the clergy &
public, a number of the priests in the procession produced mobile phones from under their robes to snap pics of the proceedings.
When in Rome, do as the romans - so we might as well do another levada, particulary as they are unique to this island so we choose the 'Caldeirao Verde' the flagship walk with waterfalls, tunnels, sheer 800m drop and it certainly lived up to its reputation.
The following day, for something completely different we walked the coast, through another tunnel that opened mid-way to the sea, then exited on the eastern side to a long beach of grey & black stone pebbles. We cafienated, watched locals playing cards on the beach pebbles, then that afternoon bused through more precariuos peaks to look down on 'The hidden valley', where nuns had escaped to during pirate attacks on the coast.
Most church's on the island have the gorgeous peculiarities of most having timber clad concave ceilings, ornately painted & decorated & was no different from the one we vusited in Funchal. A quaint fishing village where Winston Churchill visited regularly to paint. Locals gather ar the self same spot now to mostly play cards.
We
made our way back to the UK staying with Rich (Jans brother) in London, doing a few hikes, mostly to test British ales - good enough reason for a brisk walk, and visited friends of Jans school days.
We drove to Bath to visit Shelley & Hilde cousins from Africa now living in UK.
Then we flew to Scotland to stay a week with my bro Jason.
Scotland & in particular Aberdeen feel like Noah is about to arrive, the streams turn into swollen raging, overflowing torrents. Roads are cut off, businesses closed, houses flooded -- the river bursts its banks and the castle has to be evacuated before almost slipping into the watery depths too.
The snow on the highlands is thick & crisp and everything has a monotone wash of grey/white splashed over it. We visit a friend of J & Clau that builds and sells 'yurts', and greeted to lunch of homemade country wholesome gigantic soup and hot fresh bread, so washed it down with a little red wine.
The following day we dig a trench to divert the now ongoing seepage/turned stream out of the sweat lodge. Three other sacrificial members arrive to help &
partake of our united sweat lodge - at least it will be warm !
After a great sleep that night from the exhausting previous days events, we took a relaxed & chilly walk around the forrest and local area and castle. J did the tour guide explanations of the local history & events from the previous centuries. We caught up that evening with Cormac, now a tall, confident, good looking professional young man - taller now than his dad.
Then it was goodbyes to J & Clau, for a great week & back to London to Rich's with a self guided street art photographic tour, then dragged Rich around the Thames as evening seeped chillily into our bones.
Next day we woke to a weak English sun, as we creaked our bodies through the neighborhood to the magnificance that Wimbledon and adjoining museum of tennis are. Four hours of outstanding, absorbing info later, we reluctantly left to meet with Rich, Cameron & Tara to explore the amaxing 'light show' visiting London currently & turning London at night into a light show artpiece.
What a way to say goodbye to London before starting our safari to warm, dry,
dusty and animal crowded menagerie of Africa.
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Les and Cheryl Hoffman
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Hello from Perth 28 Apr 2016
Hi Folk, Great that you are still on the amazing travels. Will there be any more cycling or have they been retired? Am off 14 May for a 2 week sail - Airlie Beach to Cairns (and a few Barrier Reef islands- hopefully). Cheryl meeting me in Cairns 1 June. We don't have return tickets at this time. Going to try the "KevJan" method (on a minor scale) and see where we end up to get home. Bit of adventure for us "Oldies"!!!! Be well and safe, Fond regards Les n Cheryl