Flowers, fests & fortified wine: Madeira is an isle worth drinking in
Welcome to Madeira, the world’s sexiest potluck where you, too, can be its next donor.
That’s because nearly everything on this subtropical, post-volcanic island in the North Atlantic including its people (British adventurers, Vikings, Arab and Portuguese sailors), was hauled in from far off lands.
The sand on its famed Calheta and Banda d’Além beaches is from Morocco. It prized sugar cane is sourced from Sicily. There’s even a 50-plus-year-old tortoise named Colombo at the Quinta Jardins do Lago hotel (from $195) that was a stowaway from the Galapagos Islands dazzling guests. And don’t even get the locals started about the ubiquitous eucalyptus trees, whichever bozo smuggled those in; here they’re considered wretched, invasive trespassers.
Despite being closer to Africa than Europe, Madeira is the main island of the same-named autonomous archipelago belonging to Portugal (it has its own flag, but it can only be legally flown next to the motherland’s banner). And, save for blueberry plants and terrifyingly fugly yet edible fish called black scabbard, the region doesn’t have much of note that’s endemic. (Madeira is allegedly the birthplace of the ukelele, but don’t unleash that hot take around any Don Ho stans in your life).
It makes sense Madeira had to perfect the art of hospitality in order to welcome in the best of the rest of the world to do a little decorating. Here’s why and how to revel in it.
He’s super fly
Yes, Cristiano Ronaldo is the John Wayne of Madeira — in that he is a problematic male idol with a quirky li’l airport named for him. With a relatively new sevenish-hour nonstop on Azores Airlines from JFK to the beakless kiwi-shaped island, it’s where you’ll touch down in Santa Cruz, a quick 15 minutes from the capital of Funchal.
May the pours be with you
You’ll learn about two things straight away upon arrival to the 286-square-mile island. First, despite being fortified and tasting very much the same to the lay inebriate, Madeira wine is not port — you might get shot on site for even suggesting such blasphemy. You’ll find the marvelous nutty, usually sweet grape squeeze nearly everywhere thanks to the island’s alpha-maker, Blandy’s — whose potent potables are anything but — and a handful of other vineyards. And secondly, an upcoming Leslye Headland-created series in the “Star Wars” universe, “The Acolyte,” is being or has been filmed here on the DL, thanks to the island’s extraterrestrially scenic beaches, mountains and forests. Booze paired with blasters? You can’t beat that.
Bed, bask and beyond
Escape the very Euro-style metropolitan feel of Funchal — narrow cobblestoned streets jam-packed with pedestrians scarfing down pregos (mad-yummy sammies) — and head to the altitudinal and gastronomic-focused Socalco Nature Calheta, which has an infinity of stairs but rewards those bold enough to scale them with stunning sea views and stray cats (from $158 a night). Or, embrace it and stay in Funchal’s Vine Hotel which sits above a mall where you’ll find that electrical adapter you forgot to pack (from $181 a night). That’s OK, too.
This bud’s for you
“The birds and the bees” get all the limelight for nature’s carnal urges, but “the flowers and the trees” get in on the action, too, don’t forget. This fact will not be overlooked during the 70th annual Madeira Flower Festival, running May 2 to 26, an entire month dedicated to flowers: There will be flower carpets in the streets, there’s a flower-themed garden golf classic and, of course, a flower float parade. If you still haven’t gotten your fix of petaled pomp by month’s end, there’s always the 17-acre Monte Palace Madeira Garden, frilled to the gills with exotic art and 100,000 plant species from, of course, all over the globe ($16 for adults, kids free).
And for all you anthophobes, we see you, we hear you, we stand with you: Instead, try the Madeira Classic Car Revival, running May 24 to 26. It delightfully is what it sounds like.
Tunnel vision
As if wine, soccer and chestnuts weren’t enough, Madeirans have another addiction: tunnels. Mountainous as all hell, the vast labyrinth of some 153 tunnels and the nearly litter-less roads running through them must double as an MC Escher work from space. The island is an automobiled spelunker’s dream, so either rent some wheels or jump on a tour with Discovery Island Madeira to experience them if you’re a fellow fiend.
’Cuz we sled so
Uber? … Lyft? Pft, so basic. To get from must-see Monte Church (where the last emperor of Austria is entombed, long story) to Funchal, all the cool kids call on a toboggan to traverse its downward sheerness. You just load into a wicker sled (their word, “sledge”), piloted by a duo of carreiros, i.e. super-yoked dudes dressed in all white, add a dash of gravity and boom, you’re there. Enterprising paparazzi are strategically stationed along the route — snag a snap of your 10-minute descent for a few extra bucks at the bottom (rides with Carreiros Do Monte start from $30).
