Hawaii Six-O

Hawaii of the Atlantic. A nickname which Madeira very much lived up to. Not that I’ve been to Hawaii. But still. 

After failing to find suitable flights to Portugal for a surf camp trip, a friend and I settled on Madeira, having heard good reviews from a scattering of friends and relatives.

After a surprisingly smooth landing for one of the most dangerous runways in the world, supposedly, we zoomed up to our hostel on the hill above Funchal, Madeira’s main city. Arriving in the dark, we hit the hay and waited till dawn to take a look at our surroundings. And when I say ‘wait’ I mean it quite literally, for a singular mosquito kept us up most of the night with its piercing scream. Safe to say, daybreak was a relief. 

We ventured down to Funchal for breakfast in the bustling fruit market. Alongside coffee and croissants, we tried orange dragonfruit, a spectrum of pomegranates and the sweetest, tiniest mangoes you ever did see. A good start to the day. We then walked along the coast, passing a couple of eyesore hotels erupting from beautiful flora, before arriving at Praia Formosa, advertised on google as one of Madeira’s best ‘black sand beaches'. There wasn't much sand to be seen but the stretch of black shingle was pretty spectacular. So after a peak into a cave at the back of the beach, we opted for the natural pools and beach club and spent a glorious few hours wallowing around and drinking coffee from the little beach shack. If Wes Anderson were a beach club, that was it. To round off day one, we ate sardines and ‘tuna on the rock’ in one of Funchal’s squares before procrastinating sleep and the inevitable, unwelcome visitors.

We woke up the next day surprisingly refreshed and hopped straight into a taxi to the east of the island. We planned to spend the day at Praia Alagoa before a surf session later that afternoon. Having selected a random pin as drop off point for our Uber driver, we were just as amused as he was to be tipped out half way up a hill. Perhaps the Uber map ought to reflect contours… Anyway, it was a fabulous view over the beach and across to the looming cliff opposite. 

Keen to explore before pitching camp on the beach, we set off up the hill and came across a path (we think) which took us onto several people’s roofs and past the most incredible, high-altitude veg patches. After descending, a little wobblier on the legs than before, we had a dip in the sea off a quay of sorts. It was a ‘plunge and scramble for the ladder as quickly as possible’ situation, to avoid being caught in the enormous swell and joining the waves which were breaking over the walkway! It turned out to be just a taste of what was to come. 

Picnic consumed and books read, we wetsuited up for our surf session with Cecilio - one of Madeira Surf Camp’s long-locked instructors. After an initial ‘oh Jesus’ at my technique, he braved the waves with us and we had the best time. There were a couple of moments where I wondered if it was the end as I was dishwashered for what felt like minutes, unsure of which way was up, but we all emerged unscathed and perhaps a little more pro? 

That evening we refuelled with pasta and paella, ahead of a brutally early start the next day. 

What I hadn’t quite twigged before our final day was that due to Madeira’s latitude, the sun rises much later than in the UK, so our 05:30 am pick up for a sunrise hike felt like the middle of the night. After about 30 minutes we arrived at the foot of Pico de Arieiro, and watched the sun rise above the clouds. Spectacular is an understatement. What came next though was even more beautiful, as we meandered downhill through pastures of yellow Broom flowers, under sweeping pine trees and across rushing streams. We only lost our way a couple of times and barely saw a soul the entire time. The landscape was like nothing I’d really seen before. Similar to many - the mountains beyond Krakow and the pastures of Austria came to mind - but ultimately unique. 

Topping one of the most beautiful mornings ever felt like an impossible task, but the afternoon we spent at Funchal’s local lido certainly came close. Once again, we were transported into the 50s as we dived off the concrete walls, read books on blue sun loungers and bought coffee in paper cups from the kiosk. Madeira knows how to do life. 

Our final dinner meant it was time to try Madeira’s specialty - fried scabbard with banana and passion fruit sauce. An epic combo. 

Then we braved the runway once more and headed for home. 

If you’re looking for a getaway with a mix of activity and chill, Madeira really is the one. I can’t wait to return with a car and explore the north, east and west.