10 Experience in Madeira Portugal
Madeira Portugal is a piece of land in the middle of the Atlantic a little north of the Canary Islands, much east of the Azores and west of Casablanca in Morocco. Spring is springing up throughout the year, automatically attracting thousands of British and German retirees. They live in hotels and apartment complexes that have almost completely congested the southern side of Madeira.
This part is drier and warmer than the north because there is a mountain in the middle of the island that stops the moist air masses. The capital Funchal can hardly be described as picturesque, but outside the summer season it brings the feeling of a peaceful country town, which is in perfect balance with itself. The lack of style is not annoying. I came here for nature's sake, and not necessarily to taste all the types of locally grown wine that bears the island's name. Funchal is famous for its botanical gardens where orchids, azaleas, hydrangeas and magnolias bloom.
By chance, I come across a market that provides as much food and entertainment for an hour or two. The stalls are packed with mango, passion fruit, things called 'English tomato', miniature local bananas, as well as pineapple and oblong tennis balls. Sellers surround you like the market in Marrakech, and offer you to try a little before wrapping it in a bag for five euros each. They were mostly mined by African slaves, but this was hinted at so thinly in tourist guides that the connection was broken. The meadows are led through the mountain range of Madeira. 
Madeira Portugal photogallery
The best experience in Madeira Portugal
Water is leaking from them, and in some places it crashes. The greenery is lush like in the jungle. The meadow along which I walk reaches the waterfall Twenty-Five Springs. And indeed, dozens of jets rush from the rocks. There are more than 25, but I have no one to complain about. The place is like a secluded pond, surrounded on all sides by rocks and greenery.
Returning to the main fault, I reach a second waterfall. Its jet is single, but it falls high. The path bends into a real tunnel in the rock behind the clashing water and continues to cut the sheer rock. But the tunnel entrance is sealed with a wire fence. Not all meadows are open for walks all along. I leave the meadows and aim for the Encumada Pass. From there, the full traverse of the Madeira ridge can be started, passing through the highest peak of Pico Ruivo and then reaching the parking lot of the second highest Pico Arereiro.
Encumada is where the clouds from the North flow south. Suddenly we get into a thick fog. The air is wet like a rag in the soldier's bucket, which has to wash the bedroom floor. The Madeira ridge crosses for 5-6 hours. Almost all the time he goes up and down the stairs. They were built some time ago when the locals were going up the mountain to get ice for refrigerators or firewood. The ridge is almost everywhere upright. That's why small niches are dug into the rocks from time to time. Years ago they spent the night in them.
Toilets are improvised these days. The view from Ruivo shows sharp descending ridges between which fog has gathered. They only dare to walk from the car in the parking lot to the pub. I can feel how much we look like the Portuguese, even in clothes. Even more strange is the green color of the grass when baked. The same right spread across the land in Scandinavia and Ireland in the fall, when the sun decided it could no longer rise high.
I reach the nose of Ponta de Sau Lorenzo. In the distance stands the stone mass of the Uninhabited Islands, and on the other side is Porto Santo. It has a long sandy beach that photos of Madeira lacks at all. However, there is an airstrip in the middle. Years ago, Christopher Columbus discovered that Porto Santo is a wonderful place and marries the daughter of a local governor.
