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608km from Morocco and 1000km from the Portuguese mainland, Madeira holds the oldest tourist tradition in Europe. This is mainly due to its all year round summer climate, its lush scenery and exotic vegetation, flowers that bloom everywhere and its gentle atmosphere - especially towards us Brits. They actually like us!
In 1419, a chap called Joao Goncalves Zarco was sent by Henry the Navigator of Portugal to find riches in Africa but was blown off course by a storm and landed in Madeira instead. He christened the place he found Funchel after the word Fennel because of its sweet smell.
The whole of the island is covered with 'terraces', mainly built by African slaves in 1452. The idea was simple. In order to turn fertile mountain woodland into farm land, you rip down the trees and then level off a few yards creating stairs up the side of the slope. At each level, a different crop is then produced, which is why Madeira's markets are not to be missed.
In the centre of Funchel, the capital, you find the Madera Wine Lodge - the largest of all the wine companies which of course produces the famous Madeira Wine. It was the English who got the trade rolling and today there are still two English directors, from the Blandy family. Madeira started life as a sailors grog. They found that when the grog was carried over the Equator it turned into a fine wine. For years they could not work out why it changed so dramatically, so they took boat load after boat load out to sea and then back again. It was some time later that it dawned on them that it was the heat that was responsible for the change, not the roll of the waves, so the production stayed on dry land.
In 1852 there was a cholera outbreak on the island that killed so many people that the wine trade was not able to function. The daughter of one of the wine merchants, Elizabeth Phelps, decided that the island should have another trade to fall back on so she set up an embroidery business that still does well today.
To the west of Funchal is what is claimed to be one of the tallest cliffs in the world. At 580 metres, it was all I could do to hold on to the wall that runs along the top of it.
A journey up into the mountains is a must but you have to remember several points. The roads are awful, pot holes everywhere, road works around every corner, and with no pavements you can often find locals walking sometimes up to three abreast on them. Once you reach the top it could well be snowing, so take warm clothing. There is a game played by the locals where they build a snow man on the bonnet of their car and see how far down the mountain they can get before it melts. It is also quite likely that the mountain will be covered in a thick mist, but don't let all that put you off as the contrast between hot coast and almost 'Lake District' style country side has to be seen.
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