Bird-of-Paradise flowers and swaying over an abyss

It's a short, half-hour drive to Funchal on Madieras fabulous new highways. They're about half tunnel or bridge, creating the illusion of horizontal landscape. The old roads follow the profiles of the steep volcanic hills. Either up, up and up, often in first gear, or down, down and down, swooshing down the lava cobbled stones in second gear. But the views are stupendous!!

We pass the airport on the way to Funchal. That is, we pass under the runway. Since no horizontal areas large enough for a modern jet exist on this volcanic mountain peak they've constructed a runway, on huge concrete pillars, out over the sea. Aiming well, the jets touch "ground" a bit out to sea. So if you like landing on a hangar-ship, you'll love landing in Madeira!

Approaching Funchal we drive up the near-vertical slopes to The Botanical Gardens. What a wonderful place to wander about in, no matter what your level of botanical intelligence. Every plant has a sign on it if you want to introduce yourself. There are huge shady, leafy trees and conifers at the top of the gardens with a great view of the red-tiled city streching up the many green hillsides and of the harbour, the sea as blue as the sky. The greenery is splashed with bright flowers. There are manicured bushes, plam and cactii gardens with so many variasions you'ld think someone made them up! The fabulous "Bird of Paradise" flower, shouting out its bright red-orange,and blue-purple parrot colors.
Speaking of which the aviary with all sorts of parrots and cockatoos in cages is right below. Ending up down here with the birds we had a stiff climb right back up to the top of the gardens, where the cabel-car gondola leaves from.

When the door closes and you suddenly find yourself swaying above an abyss, sliding slooowly along a thin wire, among misty clouds, soaring hawks.
And it's too late to change your mind.
Down below intelligent hikers are walking, looking like tiny ants, their feet solidly planted on the lavada paths, sweating their way up to Monte where I hope to be arriving shortly.

Well grounded again, at Monte, we wander over to the double-towered 15th century church. Down below it a lot of men in white shirts and slacks, straw hats with black bands, are lounging about in the shade. At the bar their hats are jammed into the window bars. It's siesta.
Outside in the sun the snaking line of tourists grow. Then, up the hill a truck full of wicker-basket chairs-on-rails arrive. The straw-hat men line them up on the road, put a middle-aged couple in each chair, and off they caroon with two men steering the chair with ropes, running, riding on the rail, steeply down the slopes, avoiding the aproaching traffic. Scary.
We choose a bite to eat at the outdoor café instead. With great views of the gardens and city below.

Down the hills, at the Funchal harbour, we see how the rafted visiting sailboats are faring. Norwegian boats, "Bonanza", "Agape", and both "Blue Marlin"s are pleased with their stay at the marina. Much cheaper than Quinta do Lorde or Calheta in the west, it has good showers and they have good boat neighbors. And they can put up with the 4 or 5 boats lashed together. Alternatively you can anchor out, but you may be resting on a pile of chain, the hard sand bottom is difficult to bite through. And, if you are over 12 tons, it may be twice as expensive!!