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Five days trundling across the Atlantic have brought us to Madeira. We were not sure how the crossing would pass, our last extended period at sea heading in to San Francisco had been far from comfortable and poor weather is frequently common in the north Atlantic. But the five days passed calm and clear with most passengers happily headed for the open decks in desperate efforts to top up their tans before hitting the overcast shores of Europe.
One dissenting voice was the gentleman who expressed the view there had been too many sea days on the cruise, he presumably wanted Cap'n Dave to shrink the Atlantic. Equally, even the most optimistic passenger would accept that the engineering team is unlikely to be able to crank more than the current 23 or so knots out of the ageing mechanicals to enable us to eat the miles faster. You just can't please some folk.
Amazing to think that the five days have passed so easily, have we adjusted our systems so much over the last 90 odd days to accommodate this new, idle life style? How are we going to cope with getting back to reality in the real world, back to routines responsibilities, don't suppose Matt is expecting to continue looking after house, car etc, and Claire to managing the finances for a further 20 or so years.
Were you, dear reader, expecting travelogue details about Madeira rather than the indulgent ramblings of pensioners facing up to harsh reality? We had a head start over Madeira compared to many of the places visited previously because Len and Jackie, Chris' parents, have been very kindly feeding us inside information about the island and Funchal. It has taken us only one day to realise how easy it is to fall in love with this island, we can easily appreciate why they return here so readily.
Another one on the list! How are we going to fit it all these places in, can't get the blasted caravan to Bali and Madeira to try and combine things. Does Ryanair fly to Barbados, doesn't Lotto realise the odd £10 just is not cutting it?
I know, what about Madeira? Picturesque little white buildings with red clay pantile roofs perched on impossibly steep hillsides surrounding bays of black volcanic sands. A positive riot of colour from the plants and flowers, from orchids in the Botanical Gardens to bananas covered in protective blue plastic bags on the terraced hillsides (Madeirans could teach the rice farmers of Bali a thing or two about about terracing technology, I suspect).
A near incomprehensible language, how can it be so different from Spanish, they live next door to each other don't they? It sounds more like somebody from the Balkans with a speech impediment, but the majority of the lovely people we came across spoke impeccable English. So to detail then.
Whilst being part of Portugal, Madeira lies off the coast of Africa some 600 miles southwest of Lisbon, being part of a group of islands of which only two are inhabited. About twice the size of the Isle of Wight, didn't you just want to know that, it is home to approximately 280,000 people. As we mentioned earlier it has lots of steep slopes, the highest point being over 6,000 ft above sea level. And it is famous for wine, flowers and tourism.
Funchal, the main town, is on the south coast and we tied up to the dock, alongside another cruise ship, the Norwegian Jade at about 9am. The Norwegian Jade's strap line is "free style cruising", by the look of several of their disembarking passengers the style was less free, more absent.
Len and Jackie had suggested a number of places to visit both in and beyond Funchal and our plan was to take a taxi to some of the out of town sites in the morning. Funchal taxi drivers seem to exclusively sport up to date model Mercedes or people carriers and at the quoted rate of €100 for a three hour tour it's clear how they can afford such exalted machines. Oh for the decrepit joys of the Muscat Toyota or the fondly remembered Nha Trang Nissan.
So we passed on the taxi and opted instead for the competitively priced, big yellow, open topped, hop-on hop-off, bus to get us to Camara de Lobos a small, picturesque fishing village in a narrow, steep sided harbour a few miles from Funchal. You also get, just beyond the village, a distant view of Cabo Girao, massive, sheer sea cliffs rising over 1,900 feet from the sea. I'm sure you do not need me to remind you that Camara de Lobos is famed as one of the places where Sir Winston Churchill spent some of his later years painting. We were more taken by the scenery, the incredibly steep, terraced sides to the inlet, the quaint housing, the unique smell of drying fish than the artistic potential, but then at least one of us is a renowned philistine. So we hopped off our big yellow bus and went for a leisurely stroll around the village before we hopped on again to head back in towards Funchal and our next target, the cable car.
Getting off the bus back in Funchal we detoured to a small bar for free wifi, coffee, excellent tuna salad and, sorry, a helping of fries, only a small plate though, more a saucer really. OK, three extra laps of the deck tomorrow.
Cable car next, 1600m from the sea front up to Monte, over a thousand feet above the town. All the cruise tours had passed through so, no queues, just fantastic panoramas over Funchal and access to the delights of the tropical gardens and the Jardim Botanico.
It is also from near the peak of Monte that the famous wicker basket rides pass down the upper levels of the mountain, only not on Good Fridays! Looked a bit uncomfortable anyway. So it was back down on the cable car again, this time in the company of fellow passengers who had apparently needed a small alcoholic libation to build the courage to face the descent, unlikely to take up ski-ing as a hobby then.
A wander through the old town with its black and white tiled pavements, very reminiscent of parts of Spain we felt, as we headed for the only shopping centre open on Good Friday. Virtually everywhere else remained resolutely closed.
The most congestion we saw anywhere was the extended queues outside the main catholic church, obviously time for confession. We would have called in but the language difficulties would have made it difficult repenting some of our sins.
The shopping centre yielded some different rice cakes to provide a bit of dietary variety for Jane, but failed to produce the wrapping paper and ribbon we really wanted.
Eventually we headed back to the ship. We had decided to pass on the possibility of eating our evening meal in Madeira, in fairness many restaurants were closed for the full day, which was a shame; one reservation we have had about the cruise scheduling is how seldom have port visits extended much beyond 6 pm. We have to admit, though to a second visit to the Ocean Grill onboard tonight. Don't know how much input the revered Marco Pierre White has had to the offerings. We do recall though, that on leaving, Southampton his rumoured presence on board did not extend beyond the Isle of Wight as the weather deteriorated, so possibly his commitment is somewhat shallow. Anyway, the food and service in the Grill was exceptional. If there is one thing above all others which stands out in our opinion it is the unfailing quality of service from the non European members of the crew onboard Oriana; no praise is too high for them.
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