This article first appeared in The Times
Madeira’s waterfalls often reveal themselves at the end of a long mountain hike, so I warned our daughters, aged seven and three, that we might not see one. More fool me. We had just made a pitstop at a supermarket on a road linking the island’s south and north coasts, when in the car park we saw a waterfall crashing down beyond a line of shopping trolleys. As the spray drifted behind a billboard advert, I realised Madeira’s natural attractions were more accessible than I’d imagined.
Forests and waterfalls are Madeira’s thing. The lush Portuguese island is less than four hours away from the UK, but its volcanic landscapes and subtropical rainforest have seen it called Europe’s Hawaii. I used to love trekking with my husband and we have fallen out of the habit of going on walks together with the children, which we did a lot in the Somerset countryside during the pandemic. For these reasons Madeira seemed a great choice for an October half-term break and we hoped the kids would let us explore the island’s Unesco-protected forests if we promised them pool time afterwards.
Easygoing is how I would describe Funchal, Madeira’s capital, though a storm was raging when we arrived. The downpours meant we couldn’t ride the city’s road toboggans, but I didn’t mind too much.
In the land of the school run I take a firm stance on the use of seatbelts and car booster seats, so I could hardly afford to lose face in a wicker basket car where the only brakes were the soles of a man’s shoes.
It was still drizzling as we explored Funchal’s botanical gardens, which were our first indication that we were only 310 miles off the coast of Africa. Ferns spilt over terraces, while purple-spiked succulents and hot pink begonias led up to a cable car station. We floated up to Monte in a giant bubble, a cruise ship disappearing behind us as we dangled over terraced slopes and a hardy flock of sheep.
A taxi returned us to sea level and we ticked off Funchal’s volcanic stone cathedral, plus Rua de Santa Maria, which is lined with colourful murals. During lunch at Taberna Ruel we convinced our eldest daughter to try a limpet (too chewy, apparently). A safer bet was the crispy black scabbard fish, while we also tucked into a typical goat stew (mains from £15; tabernaruel.com).
The next morning was dry and it coincided with us driving from Funchal to Madeira’s north coast, where we based ourselves in Sao Vicente, 35 minutes away, for a few days. It was time for our first family walk.
Madeira’s humid, emerald forest covers its mountain ridges like a luxuriant, rumpled cloak. According to Unesco, this laurel forest was widespread across southern Europe many millions of years ago. The majority of the “laurisilva” now lies in the island’s north, where the primary forest rolls, undisturbed, down steep valleys. From here, waterfalls tumble onto the old road that clings to the island’s sides, while waves smash at black coves beneath.
This is where comparisons with Hawaii come in, but forget the surfboard and pack your walking boots. Hiking along Madeira’s irrigation channels, or levadas, is a popular way of getting deep into the laurel forest. These walks aren’t suitable for children in their entirety, as they can last for up to six hours and often have narrow paths, with a steep drop to one side. There are, however, a couple of wider woodland sections of longer levada routes that are safely away from cliff edges, where young children in wellies and raincoats can walk if they are supervised.
We found a couple of accessible sections by driving inland on the road from Ribeira da Janela on the north coast. For ten minutes we wound up past eucalyptus plants that, after the rain, gave off a sweet, musky scent. Sunlight filtered through the tree canopy here, in contrast to the dark, dripping quiet of the laurisilva that followed.
We spotted signs to levada walks PR 14 and 15 — PR stands for “short route” in Portuguese — that faced each other on opposite sides of the road, close to some parking bays. Of course it’s cheating slightly to drive up to the easiest section of a hike, but this beautiful patch of level forest seemed a safe place for our kids to get their first taste of a levada.
The trail paths were like tunnels, with branches knitted tightly overhead. We followed the gently trickling stream round one corner, then the next, while the paths were wide enough.
Lichen-clad trunks twisted low, their limbs stretched towards dense forest on the other side. The girls found sticks and amused themselves by “fishing” for leaves in the levada, scooping out debris so that the water could run free, eventually winning a pair of lost sunglasses for their efforts.
After an hour of exploring a small way along both the PR 14 and 15 trails, we drove back down to Sao Vicente and rested on barrels at Justino’s bar, sampling aged Madeira wine while the kids chomped on charcuterie (justinosmadeira.com). Sao Vicente has a magnificent setting, hemmed in by green peaks, and we spotted the streaks of numerous waterfalls from the grounds of our villa.
For a free-range wander, the next morning we drove further up the road from Ribeira da Janela, to the forest at Fanal. Here, centuries-old trees predate Madeira’s discovery by the Portuguese in the 15th century, growing gnarled and crooked.
A damp mist had settled in and the girls loved the creepiness of the trees’ strange, silhouetted figures. We pretended the wood was enchanted and at one point the fog was so thick, the only sign we were on a hilltop was the cold and fast breeze rushing up from beneath us.
The smooth, well-maintained roads on Madeira are easily navigated and, over the next few days, we managed to fit in further family-friendly pootles along the Vereda do Chao dos Louros (PR 22) and the Caminho para Todos (walk for all). The former was a pretty, 45-minute loop through a moist tangle of forest, the latter passed traditional thatched houses.
A 4×4 tour was also fun and as we bounced along, off-road, our guide told us that Madeira means “wood” in Portuguese. We also discovered that a bizarre fruit we had eaten, with an elongated, yellow exterior but a jelly middle, was called banana passionfruit. We ended the tour at a clifftop skywalk, where we bravely stood on a glass platform looking down at the white-flecked sea.
Walking the Vereda dos Balcoes (PR 11), another easy trail, we realised the pigeons we had written off as boring were actually endemic Madeiran long-toed pigeons. Yellow flashes in the branches, meanwhile, were wagtails and the jumpy little golden-capped birds, firecrests.
After 25 minutes we reached a natural balcony surrounded by a circle of about a dozen peaks. Mist curled around their craggy tops and crept into soft valley folds.
We lapped up the view but the girls were more interested in trying to feed hungry little Madeira chaffinches. Convincing a three-year-old to stand still is quite impossible but eventually a couple came to peck bird seed from my daughter’s hand.
There was more volcanic majesty in the north at Seixal. A fine, chocolatey beach, smoothed over by turquoise rollers, lay between a sleepy harbour and a sweep of velvety headlands. On arrival, my youngest immediately channelled Augustus Gloop and dug deep into the gooey sand, covering herself in it. Powerful waves nearly knocked us off our feet when we tried bathing to wash it off. Any excuse, though, to try a calmer dip in Madeira’s natural swimming pools, which are hewn from slick, lava rock at Seixal and Porto Moniz.
On our return to Funchal, we checked into the Savoy Palace, an impressive, 16-floor luxury hotel with large balconies overlooking the twinkly port. The girls were more than happy with their reward of swims in the hotel’s 70m, lagoon-like pool and they also enjoyed beavering away in the kids’ club, while I tried a forest-inspired spa treatment. In the relaxation room, the focus was a giant, glowing image of another native tree.
For a change of pace, we swapped greenery for the big blue at Estreito da Calheta, on a whale-watching safari in the island’s southwest. Rather than shushing the children out of respect for the wildlife though, we were clinging on for dear life, as our Rib charged through the waves, flying momentarily, then slapping us back down onto the water.
An hour and thankfully no slipped discs later, we come across a pod of bottlenose dolphins and watched them dart about beside us. The girls were elated. As were we. Madeira had delivered the subtropical island thrills we were looking for. Best of all, we had rediscovered the joys of walking together.
Natalie Paris was a guest of Fleewinter, which has seven nights from £1,775 for a family of four, including four nights at a villa in Funchal and three nights in Sao Vicente, as well as flights (fleewinter.com). She was also a guest of the Savoy Palace in Funchal, which has B&B doubles from £231 (savoysignature.com)
This article first appeared in The Times
