Madeira, Day 1: Levadas

Oh how I wish that I had remembered the USB cable which would allow me to connect my Nikon SLR to my computer. Then you’d see more than just this one picture of the western coast of Madeira, taken with the iPhone while I stood on the precipice of Madeira’s western-most point. When I say precipice, I mean just that. It was quite literally a thousand foot drop (or more) to the rocky shore below. It’s a dramatic image, seeing the coast from this view. The seas, normally quite calm, spewed angry ten foot waves against the rocks. At the coastline in the image above you can see the muddy water. This side of the island has been spared much of the destruction caused by flooding. For whatever reason, though the entire island has been deluged with rain for four months, the water that the ground couldn’t soak has decided to flow south and east. Even so, last night a storm lashed the island the likes of which our hosts at Summerplace say they have never seen here (they’ve been here for five years). As we drove along the western and northern side of the island, we passed downed trees, rocks in the road, crews out trying to clear the debris.

We walked along a popular levada at the Ribeira de Janeia. Levadas are basically waterways or aqueducts that were built to carry water from the mountains through the farm land that covers most of the mountainsides. In addition to allowing water to flow, they are also popular hiking trails (since most of them have walkways along them used to access them for maintenance). Barry (one of the owners of the guesthouse) told us the Levada de Ribeira was one of the most popular levadas on the island, one of the widest and easiest to traverse, therefore probably well maintained and not blocked by mud or fallen trees. It took about forty minutes to drive to the entrance, and after about an hour of walking we were informed by other groups who had passed us and were heading back that the way was blocked. (These groups of mostly German tourists all glanced quizzically at my feet as they passed, which I’ll get into momentarily.) We walked on, about another hundred meters or so, and found a crew frantically attempting to dislodge a fallen tree that had fallen across the path and into the levada, blocking the water. They seemed to care more about unblocking the water channel than about reopening the path, and none of them spoke English so I was unable to converse with them. (I worried asking anything in my rudimentary Spanish for fear they would answer in more Spanish or Portuguese than I know.) Suffice it to say, even on the relatively unscathed northern side of the island, these storms have caused a lot of damage. The walk was still beautiful, taking us through the mountains and beneath eucalyptus trees and past ferns and birds of paradise desperate for sunshine. When the rain finally passes and spring hits this island, it will be spectacular.

I mentioned the German tourists admiring my feet. Remember the Vibram FiveFingers? I brought them with me and wore them on the trail this morning. Let me tell you, it was absolutely wonderful walking through the woods barefoot. I didn’t care about stepping in mud puddles or fear of getting my feet wet. They were bound to get wet anyway, so I just walked. We walked an easy pace; I was in no mood to break speed records. Yes, the Germans were looking at me funny, but I have found now that there is nothing more wonderful than feeling like you’re walking barefoot through the woods. It feels as though this were the way I was intended to walk. If not for the cold and the fear of cutting myself on a sharp rock, I’d be willing to go all the way, completely unshod. The FiveFingers, however, are the next best thing. When we got back to the room, I washed them out in the sink and hung them to dry. Then readied to go for a run. I put on my running shoes, which made me a little sad. Psychologically I’m ready to give them a try on the trail, but I don’t think my legs are ready yet. By the end of the week I’ll take them out for a run and see what happens. On the run, I had to go through a stream and I took off my shoes and socks to wade through, not wanting to spend the next forty minutes to an hour sloshing through wet sneakers. If I had my Vibrams, I thought, I would just go through and not care. But with shoes I feel like I should care. In part because if I don’t they won’t dry as fast as the Vibrams. On my way back to the guest house, I stopped at this little stream and, shoes off again, knelt in the cold running water. Despite the chill and the cool breeze, the cold water felt good on my legs.

Maybe it’s the fact that the guest house is partially run by a man from Germany, and the fact that the island is only four hours flight from Frankfurt, but this place is a popular winter destination for the Germans. Last night, another couple were staying here; they were from Weimar. Tonight, two new couples check-in, both from Dusseldorf. Helmut, from Weimar, told us over breakfast that winter in Germany has been bad–lots of snow. Sounds familiar. I’ve read that my home is covered under lots of snow. I don’t mind so much the cool Madeiran weather because, like the Germans, New York has had a hard winter. So they come here to get away from that. I can understand. This is a beautiful island. Did you see that picture? Perhaps soon, if I can find a computer store (or someone to loan me an A-B USB cable), I’ll be able to show you more.