Tag Archives: Water

Travel Guide

Travel Guide: Madeira

2 Comments

Funchal

Madeira is a Portuguese island off the coast of Morocco, and I knew little else about it when my partner and I decided to spend a week there. For reasons that immediately became apparent upon our arrival in the capital, Funchal, the island is known as the “Flower Island”.

The temperature on Madeira remains constant year-round and the island is full of microclimates, which was the most amazing part of our trip. The vegetation and foliage are more diverse there than anything we’d ever seen in a similarly-sized area, and the landscape was made up of different worlds.

In Funchal, we delighted in old buildings lining winding streets . . .

. . . the botanical gardens in the centre of town, which contained tropical species I haven’t seen since living in Singapore . . .

. . . and proximity to the harbour. . . .

Funchal also has an excellent street art scene in the Zona Velha, the old part of town that used to be comprised of fishermen’s cottages and is now made up of buzzing restaurants and shops.

Unbeknownst to us before our arrival, dolphin and whale watching tours were on offer, and we were happy to participate. Once a pod is spotted, the boat is only allowed to spend 10 minutes there so as not to overwhelm the animals, which we appreciated. We saw several groups of pilot whales, which are common in the area.

That afternoon, we visited the Mercado dos Lavradores, which seemed more touristy than we would have liked. A salesperson gave us tastes of the seven different species of passion fruits that grow on Madeira and we bought one each. A few items that we hadn’t selected ended up in our bag, as well, and we certainly paid for them. However, everything really did taste as good as it looked.

Interested in the views from lookout points, we walked through Forte de São Tiago later that day, the yellow paint striking against the blue sky.

The steepness of the island is hard to understate, and this is something we didn’t fully understand or appreciate until we rented a car later on, but we were beginning to get an idea.

The following day, we took a cable car up to the Monte Palace Tropical Garden, giving us an excellent perspective on the elevation of Funchal. The air was noticeably cooler than at sea level, and we were fascinated by the hundreds of plants from all over the world that looked completely at home. In the centre of the gardens was a lake with a small stage and live music. It was relaxing, idyllic, and a wonderful oasis away from the bustle of city life, even on an island.

The Monte Church, located just around the corner, stands at 598 meters, and the view down to sea level was impressive.

Traditionally, one descends from the palace into the city by way of the Carreiros do Monte, essentially a wicker basket sled guided from the rear by two porters. Nowadays, the ride is only two kilometers (we walked the rest of the way) and we enjoyed every minute of it.

Machico

The following morning, we took the bus to the airport to pick up our rental car, and then headed down the road to the beach town of Machico, which we had chosen due to its proximity to the hiking trails for which Madeira is famous. We arrived to weather significantly cooler than what we had experienced in Funchal, though the two locations are only 25 kilometers apart along the coast. In recognition of the slower pace and change of atmosphere, we made ourselves comfortable on the rocky beach and just watched the waves.

That afternoon, we drove out to a lookout point on the eastern end of the island, gradually gaining elevation on narrow, twisting roads. The landscape changed from tropical trees and flowers, to cacti and beach grasses, to red earth with scrubby brush.

We walked along the edges of cliffs looking out into the sea, clearly in the shape of the caldera left behind from the volcano that created Madeira Island.

The next morning, we took what was probably the wildest drive of the trip, climbing serpentines for about 1300 meters from where we began at sea level. We wanted to hike up to Pico Ruivo, the highest point of Madeira Island at 1862 meters.

At just under three kilometers, the trail is straightforward though steep, and it winds through an incredibly diverse landscape. We started in terrain that was almost sub-alpine, mist in the cold air . . .

. . . climbed through and above the clouds . . .

. . . and ended on the south side of the peak in a dry, scrubby landscape with signs of fire damage. . . .

By the time we got to the summit, I was very aware of my pregnant and rapidly changing body. I had needed to go more slowly than usual to regulate my breathing, and I tried to skirt the stairs that caused my stomach muscles to engage, resulting in cramps that are best avoided. But there’s also a feeling of confidence that comes from being pregnant in such terrain (I wasn’t the only one, either!) and I enjoyed that very much.

Upon returning to the car, having thoroughly enjoyed the hike and wanting to explore more of the island, we drove about five minutes back down the road and again into the clouds. Pulling over when we could, we walked the easy, flat trail from Queimadas to Pico das Pedras. In sharp contrast to the morning, this trail took us through a rainforest. It had been cold and sunny on the summit, but we needed a jacket for the rainforest.

And what a forest. Moss hanging in clumps from old, gnarled trees; water running below us and along the sides of the path; ferns everywhere. We walked mostly in silence, smelling the muddy earth and the effortlessly lush vegetation, marvelling at finding ourselves in yet another climate zone.

From there, another winding, twisting drive took us yet higher into the cliffs to the short walk named for its outlook point, Vereda dos Balcões. We were in a cloud forest at that point, walking along the side of a cliff that looked down into one of the many villages dotting the landscape.

After our explorations of the east side of the island, we drove out the next day towards the centre to hike the Levada das 25 Fontes, a trail named for its 25 waterfalls. The easy walk led downhill from where we parked, and its status as one of Madeira’s most famous walks was immediately apparent from the number of people following the trail. We had to look for stillness here, which we managed to find.

And then, ready for stillness to find us, we followed a trail turnoff that would take us back to the car in a slightly different direction than the out-and-back that we knew most people would follow. Alongside Spanish moss, trees with low-hanging branches, and irrigation canals, we found ourselves exactly where we wanted to be – entirely alone.

From there, we continued our drive to Porto Moniz, the northwestern most point of the island. We walked along the water and gazed down into the natural pools created by the ocean.

The drive back to Machico completed our circuit of the island, which had left us in awe of the diversity we had experienced. We have both had the fortune to see a few places in the world, and neither of us had been anywhere quite like this.

The next morning, our last full day on Madeira, I settled myself on the rocky beach while my partner took a surf lesson . . .

. . . and we spent the afternoon hiking the Vereda da Ponta de São Lourenço, the trail on the eastern end of the island that reaches the highest peak in that area. This time, we walked through desert and along sea cliffs, and were almost always in sight of the ocean. Every so often, a particularly spectacular rock formation came into view, and we just had to stop and take in the colours.

The sun made this walk strenuous because there was absolutely zero shade, but the rocky paths themselves were gentle enough with a relaxed variety of ascents and descents. And like we had seen literally everywhere in Madeira, there were snacks and drinks on offer (upon return, of course!) from multiple food trucks in the parking lot.

Returning to our favourite restaurant for yet another delicious meal of fish (locally caught) and vegetables (locally grown), we toasted a local beer and a local juice to the week we had experienced. We had seen plenty of families underway on Madeira and smiled at the thought of being there with our little one. It is hopefully not our last time on this beautiful island, and we departed early the next morning with beach air in our noses and the sunrise in our eyes. One cannot ask for more than that.

Travel Guide

Travel Guide: Venice and Burano

6 Comments

My family travelled to Italy when I was 16, and it was there that I fully formed the fantasy that drove my search for a university, a fantasy that never quite materialized. We spent several days in Venice on that trip and, nearly twenty years later, I was excited to return with my partner for his first visit.

We were rather more strategic with our planning of Venice than with the rest of our summer travels, which was to our benefit. We made as much use of the Venezia Unica city tourist website as possible, thus saving time and money, as well as guaranteeing a parking spot in a very convenient garage. We had a few changes of clothes in backpacks and easily managed to pick up gelato for the walk from the car to our blissfully air-conditioned hotel.

After a shower and changing into appropriate clothing, we walked the four minutes through twisting alleyways to reach Basilica San Marco, where we had timed tickets and could skip the line. I was pleased to see that everyone had followed the dress code, which isn’t always the case in places with posted dress codes. I hadn’t been inside on my first trip to Venice; according to a story my dad tells, the family voted in favour of gelato instead. I don’t remember that, but it sounds right.

This time, my partner and I made multiple rounds of the Basilica interior, stunned by the plethora of gold, the intricate mosaic covering every surface of the floor, the saints celebrated on the walls. We tried to match the Latin names to what we knew in German and English, often coming up rather short. I have always been fascinated with the lengths to which people go to honour that which they wish to honour.

After changing clothes again (Venice, much like living in Singapore, required breaks in air conditioning and yet another shower before pursuing the next activity), we headed to the meeting point for our walking tour, always my favourite way to see a city. The tour took us through all six of Venice’s districts with a focus on the northern part where the locals live. As the tour guide explained, her job was to take us to places we wouldn’t find on our own. She told us about the history of Venice and about Venetian culture today, which we really enjoyed. I had taken a course on the history of Venice in university and I was surprised at both what I remembered and what I had forgotten.

We walked over to the Rialto Bridge that evening and took in the view of the Grand Canal . . .

. . . and returned in the morning to visit the Rialto Market, a favourite activity whenever possible. Tourist kitsch aside, the primary ware was seafood, which should come as no surprise.

From there, we made our way leisurely through little alleys and side streets until we reached Piazza San Marco.

We walked along the water to confirm vaporetto (water bus) times for the transport passes we had purchased in advance . . .

. . . before returning to Piazza San Marco for our timed entry to the Doge’s Palace, again avoiding the long line.

Much like Basilica San Marco, the Doge’s Palace is grand. The wealth that the former Republic of Venice had enjoyed, and the power that came with it, was awesome in the original sense of the word. The gold, the art, and the sheer size spoke volumes.

Afterwards, ready to escape the crowds for a while, we took a vaporetto for the 45-minute trip over to Burano, one of the neighbouring islands. Being on the water gave us some relief from the heat, but I would not recommend July as the time to visit Venice.

Burano is tiny, whimsical, and famous for lace-making, evidence of which could be seen in nearly all shops. What we were there to see, however, were the brightly-coloured houses that practically glowed against the blue of the sea and sky. We walked around, patronized a local café, and took photo after photo of this storybook come to life.

Upon returning to Venice and after some much-needed time to cool off, we braved the heat and humidity one last time to enjoy our final evening. Since Venice was designed to be seen from the water, our tour guide had said, many of the oldest building façades seen from the street side were actually the back. A gondola ride gave us a perspective of the city as it was meant to be seen. The sun was beginning to set and the city glowed.

As we rode, we asked the gondolier questions about how one gets into the business (sons are taught by fathers), how a route is chosen (the routes are what they are and do not change), and who owns the gondola (the family). The gondoliers called to each other in Venetian, the language of Venice that our Italian tour guide told us she had learned to understand since moving to Venice years ago but could not speak. Venice is Italy, but mostly, Venice is Venice.

A friend wrote to us that we were in the city of love, though we were pretty sure that designation belonged to Paris. At any rate, we held hands as we watched the sun set over the bridges.

Since we had day passes for the vaporetto, we hopped on board once again to ride nearly the whole length of the Grand Canal, a cruise for the price of a bus ride. It was dark when we disembarked this time.

There is definitely something magical about Venice, something that lends itself well to the mysteries in novels and stories I loved as a kid. The cemetery is an island of its own; the city glows when it grows dark with the lights reflecting on the water; the language is half a secret; mailing addresses function differently here in order to function at all; there are so many twists and turns that we followed a map every time we tried to get anywhere, consistently unable to orient ourselves.

The following morning, we made our way slowly back to the car, managing to cross yet another piazza where we hadn’t been before. We loved our time in Venice but were ready to get away from throngs of people and back into nature. Next stop: Slovenia.

Travel Guide

Travel Guide: Bamberg

2 Comments

Bamberg is located in a region of Bayern (Bavaria) called Franken (Franconia), and the regional slang and cuisine are Fränkisch rather than Bayrisch. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Fränkisch slang really is slang – the people generally spoke Hoch Deutsch (High German) and I could understand the accent. (This was hardly the case when I visited Munich, for example, where Bayrisch is really the local language. And rest assured, I have equal problems when people speak Thüringisch from here in Thuringia. An ongoing pattern when I learn a new German slang word is to clarify whether the word is Hoch Deutsch or Thüringisch; the distinction is important for my sometime-in-the-future German language test.)

These stark regional differences make travelling even a couple hours away feel much farther, and it’s a lot of fun to hear difference forms of language, taste local beers, and experience local culture. We spent two nights in Bamberg and were delighted by what we found. The population is just a little larger than that of Weimar, but the town sprawls across seven hills. We spent our time in the old town and new old town on the opposite side of the river, going everywhere by foot, and we were pleased to see really excellent bicycle infrastructure everywhere. There were bike lanes and bike parking areas on every road, as well as pay parking in areas that would be free by us. And it definitely seemed like the population got the message! The number of people on bikes was correspondingly greater than I have seen in other German cities.

One element that makes Bamberg really special is its location where the Regnitz and Main rivers meet. There are canals that have been built to link the rivers and bridges to carry pedestrian, bicycle, and car traffic, so you’re never far from the water.

It didn’t take long to assess the wealth of this city, extending back hundreds of years. Each of Bamberg’s seven hills has a church, and Bamberg is host to a cathedral and monastery.

The old Rathaus, or town hall, is the highly decorated signal that one has entered the old town, and we photographed it at various times of day from different angles to play with the light.

We essentially stumbled into the courtyard of the old palace . . .

. . . just after a look at the city from the garden of the new.

As always, we climbed to the highest point, this time at the monastery that towered above everything, and looked down. The red rooftops all over Germany never fail to put me right back into a child’s storybook.

Another aspect of Bamberg that I really liked were the tiny alleyways that twisted into each other, occasionally broken up by the large squares that characterize many European cities. The buildings were ornate and detailed, another sign that this was a city that controlled trade and therefore amassed wealth.

Bamberg is known for its beer and Frankisch beer is distinct in multiple ways. Rauchbier, or smoked beer, is really only found there (it can stay, as far as I’m concerned) and the beer styles are somehow crisper in both colour and taste. Each pub is a brewer of its own beer and some have been operating since the 1400s. We visited the beer museum up at the monastery to learn more, and this is clearly a history that runs deep.

Additionally, a local tradition is the Stehbier, or standing beer. You walk into a brewery/pub/bar/restaurant and order a beer (or wine) to go. You pay the deposit on your glass and walk out into the street. The atmosphere was festive, though the environment was clearly entirely normal for the locals. By us, people bring bottles of beer and wine to the park. In Bamberg, you stand in the streets closed to cars. After all, taking part in the local culture is an essental part of travelling.

After two nights in a medieval town full of breweries, bookshops (I really couldn’t help myself), good food, and cheerful people, we drove about 20 minutes outside of town to climb in the famed Frankenjura. There are many reasons why this is one of the most popular climbing areas in the world, and climbing on the limestone there was a new experience. We’ll be back – after all, there’s climbing and beer.