Madiera Mists // Portugal // Issue 5
Madiera Mists // Portugal // Issue 5
The mists were tumbling down from the high mountain ridges, with the late afternoon rains bringing the feeling of being enveloped in a tropical rainforest. Dotted up the São Vicente valley were houses perched on steep slopes sitting amongst the terraces of small farm holdings; it was truly an escape to paradise. The flight over to Madeira from Manchester had crossed open sea for the whole journey, little white wave crests far below, adding to the idea of travelling to a mystical island.
Driving along the winding north coastal road, hugging the steep cliffs to reach the hidden valley gave the same excitement as a New Zealand road-trip through mountain passes, without having the jetlag. Tomorrow the clouds were meant to drift away leaving the network of mountain trails across the island to be explored. Expectations had already been completely exceeded – why do we travel to other continents when Europe has so many wild idyllic places?
For centuries the island has transported water from the rainy north to the arid south using a network of levadas, overland irrigational channels gently following the contours of the hills. These are now part of the walking trails and on the western backbone of the mountain ridge across the main island, the Levada do Risco (PR6.1) trail was where I was going to experience them. Over 1000m up, the trail looks out across lush valleys of moors and forest, leading to a stunning waterfall and plunge pool off a side-track that meanders above the main trail. A quick glace around to check no-one was coming and clothes were shed to cool down – autumn wild swims without the usual shivers. I ran back along another levada leaping side channels, only slowing down as the channel tottered on cliff-edges with inches to spare. An uncontrollable smile seemed unlikely to leave soon.
The mists were tumbling down from the high mountain ridges, with the late afternoon rains bringing the feeling of being enveloped in a tropical rainforest. Dotted up the São Vicente valley were houses perched on steep slopes sitting amongst the terraces of small farm holdings; it was truly an escape to paradise. The flight over to Madeira from Manchester had crossed open sea for the whole journey, little white wave crests far below, adding to the idea of travelling to a mystical island.
Driving along the winding north coastal road, hugging the steep cliffs to reach the hidden valley gave the same excitement as a New Zealand road-trip through mountain passes, without having the jetlag. Tomorrow the clouds were meant to drift away leaving the network of mountain trails across the island to be explored. Expectations had already been completely exceeded – why do we travel to other continents when Europe has so many wild idyllic places?
For centuries the island has transported water from the rainy north to the arid south using a network of levadas, overland irrigational channels gently following the contours of the hills. These are now part of the walking trails and on the western backbone of the mountain ridge across the main island, the Levada do Risco (PR6.1) trail was where I was going to experience them. Over 1000m up, the trail looks out across lush valleys of moors and forest, leading to a stunning waterfall and plunge pool off a side-track that meanders above the main trail. A quick glace around to check no-one was coming and clothes were shed to cool down – autumn wild swims without the usual shivers. I ran back along another levada leaping side channels, only slowing down as the channel tottered on cliff-edges with inches to spare. An uncontrollable smile seemed unlikely to leave soon.
Across the central mountain range, the Vereda da Encumeada (PR1.3) trail starts at the head of the São Vicente valley, at just over 1000m, and traverses along a ridgeline up to the highest peak on the island at 1,862m. At over 22km return this half-marathon distance was going to be challenging in the humid heat and maybe that was point, a wilderness challenge in stunning scenery. The views stretched far out across remote valleys towards the rugged coast as the narrow path wound its way up and down a route along the exposed ridgeline, stone steps carved into the rock in parts; this trail was used to connect remote villages in days past. The volcanic rock shows signs of their violent making with water dripping off ledges above the path, a refreshing cooling. Only a few lone hikers were passed; this really was a wild place and the trail already one of my favourites amongst the many I’d experienced across the globe.
Just off the peak the serenity was broken momentarily by an unlikely mountain lodge, where energy was replenished with crisps and an unhealthy fizzy drink. The route had included some tough climbs up to the peak; waning strength and the searing heat of the sun breaking through the mountain mists meant the return was going to be more arduous. Still, the smile was yet to leave and the views were stunning the whole way along the ridge, down into valleys that begged to be explored on a return trip. I finished late into the evening as the sun started to fade, with feeble aching limbs; and a new joyfulness for adventure and travel in Europe’s remote islands.
Buy Issue 5: Travelling Iran / Atlas Mountains, Morroco / Utah Hiking, US / Madeira Island / Italy Slow Travel / Scottish West Coast / Peak District / Future Travel essays including an article by a Clinical Psychologist.
Across the central mountain range, the Vereda da Encumeada (PR1.3) trail starts at the head of the São Vicente valley, at just over 1000m, and traverses along a ridgeline up to the highest peak on the island at 1,862m. At over 22km return this half-marathon distance was going to be challenging in the humid heat and maybe that was point, a wilderness challenge in stunning scenery. The views stretched far out across remote valleys towards the rugged coast as the narrow path wound its way up and down a route along the exposed ridgeline, stone steps carved into the rock in parts; this trail was used to connect remote villages in days past. The volcanic rock shows signs of their violent making with water dripping off ledges above the path, a refreshing cooling. Only a few lone hikers were passed; this really was a wild place and the trail already one of my favourites amongst the many I’d experienced across the globe.
Just off the peak the serenity was broken momentarily by an unlikely mountain lodge, where energy was replenished with crisps and an unhealthy fizzy drink. The route had included some tough climbs up to the peak; waning strength and the searing heat of the sun breaking through the mountain mists meant the return was going to be more arduous. Still, the smile was yet to leave and the views were stunning the whole way along the ridge, down into valleys that begged to be explored on a return trip. I finished late into the evening as the sun started to fade, with feeble aching limbs; and a new joyfulness for adventure and travel in Europe’s remote islands.
Buy Issue 5: Travelling Iran / Atlas Mountains, Morroco / Utah Hiking, US / Madeira Island / Italy Slow Travel / Scottish West Coast / Peak District / Future Travel essays including an article by a Clinical Psychologist.
