From Dairy 1
1.3.Today it was the capital that was to be visited. Bihrmann had been very unlucky to damage his sprained thumb by branching up on Paul Da Serra. The branch was to be used for noise cancellation of our broken bottom guard plate. As it was the gear change hand, I suggested that we leave the car that day and instead used the taxi to Funchal.
It was my last chance to experience the big
market when it was Saturday. It was also not easy to anticipate
parking in the narrow streets of the old town. As I said so done. We
started by visiting the city museum, but it was closed due to
remodelling, sorry. The next point was the archaeological park.
It was very tastefully decorated as a botanical garden.
In several places there were ponds.In them
there was an abundance of frogs, which in the spring eagerly
Further along the old streets we reached a large old Madeira farm. Here was everything, as it was hundreds of years ago. There were posters about the old manufacturing method. Tasting room, information room, exhibition of all types of Madeira on bottles and dishes. An extremely exciting place, and on this Saturday morning, well visited.
Wanted to visit the Old Fort, but neither was
this open to the public that day. Was inside the very beautiful
cathedral, in the middle of the fair. The church was stowing full,
and the bishop sang the most beautiful Latin while everyone was
kneeling. Finally, there were real wax candles in use. In a small
enclosure at the back of the church lay stacks of new candles.
Outside the church are the flower sales women.
They have a very rich selection of the island's flowers.
We walked to another church that was open. In this church there was organ concert. Very beautiful and stylish, did not find out the name of the church, but it was located at a church school.
Finally, we reached the big market. The lower floor consisted entirely of fishmongers. We saw how a freshly caught tuna was chopped into appropriate pieces. The tune consisted of a spine and 4 large powerful muscle bundles, nothing with prickly legs. The incredibly ugly espada fish was everywhere, it is one meter long and slender and has an eye, bigger than our current fiver (app. 4 cm). Other deep-sea fish of many colours were inviting in the small stalls. Also, clams, snails, shrimp, crayfish and lobsters were in the boxes.
On the ground floor, it was the vegetables
that dominated. A young man stood with a small knife and tasted the
various fruits he was negotiating. Got a lot of flavour, all juicy
and sweet, the names were unknown.
The top floor was reserved for the more
commercial. Here were bag departments, small as well as large, but
since the price was like home, there was no need to drag anything
home, even though I was missing. Bihrmann too could use a sports
bag, but no one got into his taste. It was a great experience to
experience the big richly visited market.
Outside on part of the square were numerous
small restaurants selling coffee, cakes and beer. Once again we had
to try the coffee and the indispensable cake. Wandered on to
Katarina Park, which, although it was early spring, was very
beautifully landscaped. There were prayers with room for planting
flowers for thousands. Even though it was ten There were many trees,
shrubs and roses in bloom. There were name tags on everything.
At noon, the little lizards had it really hot. They laid down on the belly, lifted all their feet and quivered with them. Some were so engrossed in their sunbathing that they were allowed to photograph. The only picture I was allowed to take of Bihrmann was under a huge blooming poinsettia. Some planted fry leaves changed owner. Today stands 7/4 as large plants in the windowsill. At the top of the park is a small restaurant, where for lunch we got an extremely tasty sandwich.
From here, there were excellent views down the
whole park, where there are 2 large statues. One of Henry the Sailor
and one of Columbus. From the garden there was a decline to the
harbour, where we went down and had a look around. There was a very
nice marina with expensive ships.
Further on, the walk went. We reached the
business streets and were inside a modern centre that accommodates
every conceivable business. Was in a bookstore to buy special ink to
draw on the smooth postcards with map motifs. Wandered here and
there, looking at the rather small shops. Compared prices that did
not differ from our domestic at all.
Bihrmann botanized alone while drinking
mineral water. We occasionally heard Danish voices, but stayed
neutral. It was not to speak Danish, we had come to Madeira. We had
no problems with pedestrian crossings.
After wandering through the inner city, enjoying the very beautiful basalt pavements, we headed down to the harbour to take a taxi back to our residence. There was no more staying in Funchal after. It was partly siesta and partly Saturday, so only the bays were open.
Bihrmann thought that after a full day's rest, he could easily drive a car, so we found our little car and headed for Monte. which is 550 meters above sea level. On the way up to Monte, we passed the airfield, which is one of the most dangerous in the world. The runway is so short that all brakes have to be clamped, so that the plane does not crash over the rock into the sea.(On the way home we had to stop in the neighbouring island of Porto Santo, which is only a 10 minute flight from Funchal. Here we got the necessary fuel on board, but had to stay on the runway for over an hour before Lisbon, which controls the airspace gave a take-off permit).
The view down Funchal was lovely. The road was barely as twisted and snotty as the ones we had otherwise frequented. We parked in a small parking lot behind the church Igreja de Nossa Senhora do Monte, which is white and the two-tower.
At the ascent of the colossally long staircase up to the church there was an iron tray on the cemetery wall, next to which stood a bench, on which stood a box of wax candles and a cardboard box with sloth for money. There were many burning wax candles on the iron tray, so I could finally light the candle for Jan. We entered the many steps and the mint sand if the church was not open. "It is in many ways the island's most interesting. At the entrance to the church you will see some blue tile motifs that tell of a marvellous event. The church is built in the 18th century. When you go inside, you will first notice that the walls are covered with beautiful faience tiles. The ceiling is three-part and painted as follows: In the centre you see Christ with the cross and Godfather with his left hand resting on the earth, while his right places a gold crown on the head of the Virgin Mary. Above, the Holy Spirit hovers in the shape of a dove. The symbolism must be that the Trinity saves man, symbolized by the Virgin Mary, from perdition."
When we visited the church there was choral singing. It sounded extremely beautiful in the large church room, which was so beautiful as the book describes. Outside, we admired the blue tile motifs. It's something that wants something. One was designed so you were sure it was a huge relief you could take and feel on the figures, but it was and still is. We stood on the front porch of the church and looked down at the braided wicker sleds.
When it was evening, the men were packing up,
so no closer visit was made. I also didn't have the courage to put a
spine on a trip. It was wrong enough with all the millions of turns
and curves we had passed during the week.
An old railway bridge runs across the park. It was lavishly planted with finger philodendrons so old that they had bald-like flowers and large fruits. I was wondering what those fruits would look like, and how they would taste until Bihrmann laughingly replied, "Well you tasted them on the market this morning" Well yes. There were an incredible number of growths, known as well as unknown.
Down through the small valley ran a tiny
levada, the water chuckled merrily, the sunsets sang supper, only a
few tourists travelled, everything simply breathed peace and idyll.
As we left the square, we headed for the mountain.
We drove down towards Funchal, had plenty of
time, and looked to all sides for something interesting.
We were home at 19.25 and had only driven 36
km. that day. We ate at the nearby mall's first-floor restaurant on
the terrace. When it was Saturday night, most of the guests were
local. Many even had tiny little children with them.
Camacha is the headquarters of the basket weaving on the island. Curve arrows are planted throughout the terrain. As it was Sunday, we did not see a single wicker braid at work, but, maybe the indoors are going on, which we lacked for a single guide's knowledge. In the centre of the city is a very large business, where all 800 kinds of wickerwork are partly on display and partly for sale.
Bihrmann was looking for a little thing, like
a souvenir, but didn't found anything here of interest, he had to
settle for the beautiful stone from the beach at Riberia Brava.
In Augus Manas there was a lively
supply of vegetables, eggs, fruits and flowers. We stopped in
Santo da Serra.
In the square there was a market place. Here
you could buy everything your heart desires, from cassette tapes,
CDs had not yet hit the island, to various foods. We stood looking
at a baker who baked flat bread on an iron plate over open fire. The
wife stood in a small booth next door, and sold the glowing hot
bread. Was allowed to smile, took a photo, bought a bread, which the
wife kindly cut into smaller pieces.
Behind the square there was an entrance to a
small zoo that was located in the middle of a large botanical
On the way to Porto da Cruz, we came close to a cow-huts that was in use, as shown in the photo. A small village cafe invited for dinner and sunbathing. Reached the Portela pas which is a water barrier. From here was a magnificent view of both Porto Santo and the Desert Islands.
Further on through Referta, where the areas on the hillsides are exclusively terraces used for farming, but they were still empty. Porto da Cruz. Here was the shore with black sand. It was a little difficult to get in the sand for mussels and snails, because the swells still came in and flooded the shore. There were some rocks on the beach, but not something we hadn't seen before, but gathered a little.
At a little distance we saw a forest fire, several emergency vehicles coming. The smoke blew up, but Bihrmann had visited the area for the next week, and it wasn't too bad. In Cancical is a whale museum where many posters show life in the city and on the sea. Half an hour of video showed how it went. Extremely primitive, even though it was in our days.
In a lookout tower, a man was on duty. When he
saw whales, he fired shots, and all available crews rushed to the
harbour and pulled out the boats. Later, the wives came with food
baskets over their arms. The catch and the home transport itself
were really an effort against the sea strong elements.
At the harbour, an old man came to us and
wanted to sell very large sea snails and clams. Afternoon coffee
At 18, we spotted a levada crossing the road. Found a reasonable parking area in the roadside and walked along the levada in a little low light. On the left was a village and on the right a mountain rose. The planting was eucalyptus, from which still sprouted seed shell peaks. There were cut down mimosas that shot completely wild with meter-long powerful shots.
At the top, when we arrived, the peasants
lived on the other side of the levada with stairs and path system up
to the houses through the terraced newly planted orchards. A single
brown dog looked at us, but even though we were near it and it was
tied-up, it didn't bark. The silence was almost total. A single lamb
brewed a few times. The water in the levada was like a stroll, but
without sounds. Small suitable stones were thrown in and pulled by
Then continued the hike of the mountain road, which was very winding and winding down towards Funchal, where we arrived at. 19:20. That day we had driven 140 km. In total we had run 929 km. plus the bus ride to and from the airport.
We ate at the Spanish House restaurant. I
ordered something but the waiter felt that I would not like it as it
was cooked fish. Ordered something else. He asked which country we
came from, to which he replied in Danish that it was boiled cod,
well, let me get Gordon bleu, Bihrmann got Steak with parmesan ..