Off my Beaten Track...

Early morning view from my hotel

…in Ponte Delgada on the northern coast of Madeira today.  Come and join me as I take a stroll around the village...

With a total population of 250,000, most of whom live in or close by Funchal, anywhere else on the island is Smallville.  I arrived yesterday - a long and painful day.  But then, planes and me don't really get on.  Enough said, I think!

According to the info in my hotel room, the island has been inhabited since the middle of the 15th century.  But archaeological evidence suggests the Vikings got here first, some 500 years or so earlier than the Portuguese.  I'm just exploring my surroundings today.  So come stroll with me.  Who knows what we might find! 

Right outside my hotel is a narrow road, and I take a left and head down the hill.  I've already checked the map, and my planned circular route will take me down to the port, then up the mountain to the village, then down towards the north shore and then up again and back to my hotel.

The tiny port is right at the edge of the Atlantic.  A short stretch of black volcanic rocks to protect the inner reaches from the potentially fierce tides of the sea.  There's no beach.  Just a sheer wall of rock that disappears into the raging water.  Who knows how deep it reaches.  As I look up, the wall stretches to the sky, almost obliterating the mid-morning sun.  The bright white stucco of the church is greyed in the shadow.  I make a mental note to come back and explore the interior and the history of the building before I leave.

As I walk along the winding and climbing road, I pass gardens full of plants that I recognise, not from English gardens, but from shops and florists.  It's late October.  Here, the plants, succulents and cacti that we would buy already potted for a small fortune at home put in a sunny window and wait for the next eight decades for them to flower, grow freely and wildly in people's gardens.  Rose bushes are still in full flower, as are the hibiscus, and the hydrangeas have done their best, but that stunningly blue sky of the petals is still just discernible.

The village, which perches half way up the mountain, is almost deserted.  There's a small all-purpose shop and café combined, a petrol station, a small school and a hard wear store and that's about it.  The few houses seem to be indiscriminately dotted about wherever there is a level place to build.

I meander downhill towards the north coast.  The view is just one vast expanse of sea.  There is no beach, just a random strewing of rocks and pebbles in various shades of grey, from ash-white to black.  The sea is ever-present, too.  It is relentless in its assault on the sheer walls of volcanic rock.  Yet the sound of the ebb and flow of the water has a soporific effect on my mind. 

Church and rooftops

As I pause in the sunshine for lunch, I'm joined by a lizard.  He's observing me - perhaps in anticipation of a dropped morsel of food.  Or maybe not.  I think lizards eat insects primarily.  Nevertheless, he sits there, watching.

By the time I get back to my hotel, the sun has moved around, and I head down the hill to the port.  The white stucco of the church is gleaming, and the stunning decoration inside is a marvel to see.  Dedicated to the 'Good Lord Jesus', the church dates from the 16th century.  Inside, the walls are decorated with typical blue and white tiled panels, and the murals on the upper walls and ceiling have to be seen - photographs just don't do them justice.  The altarpiece is very much of the Baroque style.  The interior is also very cool - the afternoon temperatures are in the mid-twenties, and that's way too much for me in October!

You can read more about my travels on the island of Madeira Here