Surf and Turf
March 17-27, 2025
Thanks to its subtropical climate, dramatic landscapes, and lush vegetation, Madeira has been nicknamed “the Hawaii of Europe” by many people who think America is the center of the world. Stunning images of Madeira have popped up on our social media algorithms for years, and in early 2025, we finally decided to go see what all the fuss was about for ourselves. At this point in our traveling lives, escaping the tail end of the interminable Berlin winter and kickstarting spring has become an annual tradition. This year, we decided to warm up our frozen bodies in a self-described “hiker’s paradise” in the Atlantic Ocean.
We explored some other Portuguese islands, the Azores, back in 2022. The nature and hiking on those islands were exceptional; our only gripe was the food. Almost everything you eat in mainland Portugal is delicious, but that commitment to high-quality cuisine didn’t seem to extend out to their main Atlantic archipelago. Researching Madeira, we were heartened to discover that these particular islanders take great pride in their food.
After arriving in the capital city of Funchal with some time to kill before we could check in to our Airbnb, we lugged our bags to A Nova Celha, an unassuming “snack bar” with excellent reviews online. The local booze in Madeira is poncha: a small glass of sugar cane brandy mixed with sugar and lemon or other fruit juice, usually served with a side of peanuts as a salty counterpart. The sardines and mussels we ordered were perfectly seasoned and grilled. Mazz, a true lover of seafood, was thrilled. Kirb, who contracted the worst food poisoning of his life from a “fresh” sardine in Morocco, thankfully also enjoyed the fare.
Funchal is the largest city on the island, with a bustling central district filled with shops and restaurants. We rented an apartment on the promenade in the old town and were thrilled to find that it was neighbors with both a McDonalds and a Pizza Hut. So authentic! The main goal of our first night in Funchal was to find the internet-infamous bust of Madeiran hero Cristiano Ronaldo. Created by a local artist with no particular expertise in brass sculpting, the unflattering bust made headlines around the world for all the wrong reasons. We thought the piece was located at the aptly-named Cristiano Ronaldo International Airport, but the bust outside of the terminal there was much too flattering. We learned there was another statue of the footballer next to the CR7 museum downtown, but when we arrived, we were saddened to find that it too was not the hideous visage that had amused us online. Apparently, Ronaldo personally asked that the bust be replaced several years ago. What an ego on that guy! We tried not to let this devastating revelation ruin the rest of our vacation.
One of Madeira’s defining characteristics is its steep mountainous terrain. The island’s volcanic origin means there are dramatic cliffs shooting into the sky almost everywhere you look. Funchal is built on an incline that rises from the sea up to some very tall hills, with a gondola that can take you from the old town all the way to the top. At the peak is Monte Palace, a museum and 70,000 m² terraced tropical garden with 100,000 plant species from around the world. After a few hours of strolling through exhibits from local and international artists, an impressive collection of gems and minerals, and what felt like only a corner of the gardens, the sky opened up and began to dump on us. We took shelter in a café, bought a second umbrella, and tried to wait out the weather. Even when the rain slowed to a patter, strong winds threatened to turn our umbrellas inside out, and our nice stroll through the garden wasn’t particularly pleasant anymore. We had planned to walk back down into town, but pouring rain and the realization that there wasn’t a footpath aside from the road quickly led us to jump on a bus instead.
Much like port in Porto, Madeira has its own traditional fortified wine. Though we are big fans of port, we knew next to nothing about Madeira wine, so we took a tour at Blandy’s Wine Lodge. While port is mostly sweet, Madeira wine comes in four styles: dry, medium dry, medium sweet, and sweet. After sampling the range, we found we preferred the aged, sweeter varieties that tasted most similarly…to port. As is the case with many wines, the good stuff is expensive, so we only splurged on a little bottle to bring along to our next destination.
We struck out on getting a reservation at one of the restaurants with live Fado music, so instead we made our way to another internet-beloved snack bar called Bela 5. The waiters here were surly and sarcastic and the grilled dorado was delicious. After suffering through a lot of bad meals in the Azores, a part of us was waiting to be let down in Madeira as well. But after two fantastic meals in Funchal, we were starting to feel confident that this island really valued good food like the mainland.
The weather forecast, unfortunately, did not look so optimistic. The wind and rain from the previous day was a portent for “Depression Martin,” which was making its way toward the island, and though we woke the next morning to dry, unthreatening clouds, our weather apps promised that severe rain was on its way. “Depression Evelyn” had stranded us in the Azores for several days back in 2022, so we knew firsthand how serious the storms could get out on these small Atlantic islands. The main objective of this trip was to go hiking, which we planned to do as soon as we got our rental car and left Funchal for the mountains. Thanks to the storm, every trail on the island was now closed until further notice. As we left the city and drove into the center of the island, we found ourselves surrounded by green cliffs and terraced hillsides that made us yearn to play outside. But a storm was coming. We had to be patient.
Around noon, we pulled into a hilltop restaurant on the northern side of the island called Restaurante As Pedras and no one appeared to be home. Eventually, a woman came out from the kitchen, and though she didn’t speak any English, she did speak French, from which Mazz was able to glean that there were two items we could order for lunch: steak or fish. We ordered one of each and sat in the dining room facing the ocean. By the time we finished our meal, the storm had rolled in and rain was falling steadily. Thankfully, it was only a short drive to our secluded Airbnb in the mountainside town of Ponta Delgada. The tiny house we had booked was particularly cute and cozy and the owner had welcomed us with local wine, honey cake, and fresh eggs from her hens. We instantly felt at home.
Unfortunately, we still needed groceries, so we headed to the nearby town of Sao Vicente in the pouring rain. The winds were intense close to the coast; we found several destroyed umbrellas outside of the market. When we were done shopping, the few moments it took Kirb to close his umbrella and unlock the car was enough to completely soak him from head to toe. But by the time we got back to the house and dried off a bit, the worst of the storm seemed to have passed, and huge beams of sunlight were coming down through the clouds and illuminating the misty coastline. We took the opportunity to explore Ponta Delgada and found some beautifully manicured personal gardens filled with plants and trees we had never seen before. A particularly friendly goat tied up in someone’s yard was thrilled to meet us and demanded we give him head scritches, to which we happily obliged.
Walking back to the house, two men in a shack began to call out to us. Mazz instinctively ignored them and continued walking, but Kirb could hear something invitational in their tone and decided to engage. They were drinking wine, and offering us to join. Alfredo, the owner of the shack (and the house it was next to), said he doesn’t drink alone – today he was accompanied by his son-in-law Werner. Alfredo was a bus driver for 46 years, evidenced by the local bus honking in recognition as it passed by on the street outside. Many people in Ponta Delgada have their own vines, and Alfredo’s wine was crisp and tasty, made with Portuguese jacquet grapes and another variety he simply called “Americano.” Werner was a diligent translator for us, but at one point he and Alfredo got into a long, heated debate in Portuguese when Alfredo insisted that the water at the top of the Pico Ruivo mountain trail comes all the way up from the sea. Werner attempted to explain to the old man that this is simply not the way that water or gravity works, but the old man refused to concede. Over the course of our visit, Alfredo insisted that we drink at least 2 shot glasses of wine, and then ended up pouring us more than seven or eight. We all shared the same small glass, rinsing it in the spigot outside between uses, and then Alfredo hung it up on its own special hook when we were done. We left the shack enamored with the village and content with the choices in our lives that had led to experiences like these.
Though the worst of the depression seemed to have passed, none of the trails reopened the following day. The sun was out and it didn’t seem too windy, but we read online that hiking on closed trails carried a €2500 fine, and everyone on Reddit said you were an idiot if you tried. When the trails are closed in Madeira, it means hiking on them is actually dangerous. So, with hiking off the table, we decided it was a fine day for a road trip instead, and began making our way counterclockwise around the north end of the island. Most of the highways in this area are tunnels bored through the coastal mountains, but you can still see sections of the original, precarious road that hugs the outside of the hills. With no real agenda, we stopped anywhere and everywhere that looked interesting, taking unnamed roads back into the hills to find waterfalls and discovering all sorts of neat rocks, much to the delight of Mazz, who often remarks that she really should have been a geologist.
Our friend Dan had given us a tip to drive up to Porto Moniz, and the rugged coastline there was definitely a highlight of our day of sightseeing. Spires of volcanic rock jut out from the crashing waves, with a dramatic cliff face towering above on a nearby island. In the summer you can apparently swim here, but during our visit the water looked like a death trap. We checked online and every restaurant in Porto Moniz had miserable reviews, so we drove steep switchbacks directly up the side of a mountain until we reached the village of Santa Maria Madalena and Talho Santa restaurant. This place served espetada: long metal skewers with salt-coated steak chunks cooked over an open wood fire. We ate our meat with traditional Madeiran fried polenta cubes and crisp vinho verde wine and were thrilled to learn that Madeirans not only love steak, but cook it exceptionally well. Both Kirb and Mazz’s favorite proteins - seafood and steak - were specialties of the island. We began to toy with the idea of never going back to the mainland.
The trails opened back up the next day but the weather was still cloudy, so we decided on an inland hike to a waterfall. There are 23 “PR” routes in Madeira, or "Pequena Rota," which translates to "small route" in English. These sequentially-numbered trails are well maintained and have numerous branching side trips: our hike to Vereda da Lagoa do Vento was PR6.3. Though the hiking infrastructure in Madeira is robust, with one of the best trail websites we’ve ever seen, we still had a hard time figuring out how to get to the trailhead. Eventually, we realized that we had to park in the main lot for the PR6 hike, which was overflowing with cars double parked out into the street. It was only early March and the trailhead was already noticeably overcrowded; we could only imagine how awful things must get in high season. We found a parking spot that only our tiny rental bean could squeeze into and joined the throng of people setting off on the PR6 trail.
We were relieved to find that we were the only people branching off the main route at the PR6.3 trailhead. Before the trip, we found a great summary on Reddit of someone else’s hiking vacation in Madeira and had followed that person’s advice to take this route instead of the overcrowded PR6 25 Fontes hike. The Vereda da Lagoa do Vento trail takes you down a few hundred meters to a huge waterfall, then back up to walk along a “levada.” Levadas are irrigation channels that were originally built into the sides of the mountains to divert water from streams and springs to irrigate crops. The channels are mostly flat, with only a slight grade to allow the water to flow down steadily and smoothly. Many of the most popular PR trails in Madeira simply follow the levadas along the sides of mountains, offering long, beautiful trails without challenging elevation changes. That said, if you do want to hike directly up a mountain, that option is still very much on the table. We certainly prefer hikes that prioritize out over up, and the trail system in Madeira gave us plenty of great options. Surprisingly, this hike was the only loop we did on the entire trip. Everything else was an out-and-back.
Our second stop on the western side of the island was the Fanal Forest. Located high in the mountains and almost perpetually shrouded in fog, this UNESCO world heritage site is filled with indigenous laurel trees that predate settlers on the island. This area was incredible. Each tree looks wildly different from the next, sprawling and twisted, slowly taking form in the grey mist as you proceed. Walking around Fanal felt like being transported into a spooky fairy tale.
With clear weather in the forecast the next day, we prioritized a coastal walk. The Vereda do Larano trail is not one of the numbered PR trails, but reviews online said it was an underrated gem that rivaled the island’s most popular coastal treks. On the way, we checked out a traditional Madeiran thatched roof house and then stopped by Porto da Cruz for lunch. There was already a line of people waiting at A Pipa restaurant when it opened, which seemed like a good sign. Limpets are a local specialty, so we ordered some, along with some seafood soup and a steak dish called Picado. Kirb gave Mazz some flak about getting meat at a seafood place, but she insisted that it was as local as anything else on the menu and that we should try it. The seafood soup was nothing to write home about, and once we tried the limpets, we remembered that we had ordered them in the Azores as well and didn’t particularly enjoy the rubbery texture. Then the Picado showed up - a completely unassuming stack of beef cubes covered in fries; so unassuming we didn’t even bother to take a picture before digging in. We thought then that this might be the first bad meal we had in Madeira. It was some of the most delicious beef we have ever eaten. Honestly, it was like magic what that restaurant did with simple roast meat. Marinated in wine, garlic, and bay leaves, that beef was transcendent. We slurped up all the juice with a spoon and decided that we would definitely return to A Pipa again before leaving Madeira.
The first striking thing about the Vereda do Larano trail was how good it smelled. The air was filled with an intoxicating floral scent, which we eventually tracked to a blossoming yellow tree. For the first few miles of the hike, you only catch little glimpses of the ocean between the trees, then the trail opens up completely and you are met with a stunning panorama of the coastline snaking off into the horizon. This trail gave us our first euphoric moment of the trip when we stared off into the distance and realized, “Right. This is why we came to Madeira.”
The PR 16 Levada Fajã do Rodrigues trail added a new element to the levada walks: tunnels. Some were just wide enough that you had to sidestep with your back against the wall, careful not to slip over the edge in the dark and fall into the watery cement aqueduct. This section became particularly interesting when other hikers were coming through the tunnel from the other end and you had to pass one another. Eventually, the PR16 leads to a gorgeous meadow filled with multiple waterfalls and a final, even longer tunnel. We asked some hikers who had just emerged from the entrance whether or not it was worth going through to the other side, and when they sort of shrugged noncommittally, we decided we were perfectly happy with the endpoint we had chosen.
The next morning, we packed up and said goodbye to our adorable tiny house in Ponta Delgada and chose a hike close to our new accommodation in Ilha. We couldn’t check in until the afternoon, so Kirb decided to bring his laptop along in his day bag, unwilling to leave it in the car all afternoon. He wrapped it in a plastic bag to help prevent it from getting sweaty; the section for it in his bag rests directly against his back, which is dependably damp while hiking. This turned out to be a fortuitous decision, as the PR 18 Levada do Rei hike makes you walk directly under a waterfall at one point of the trail. This section of the island was covered in moss and ferns, with the trail culminating in a lush riverside grotto. On the way up to the trailhead, we saw a spritely goat hanging out in front of a traditional thatched roof bar and made a point to stop there at the end of the hike to try and make friends. When we arrived, the goat was sadly gone, but the poncha at the hut was delicious.
The most popular trail in Madeira is the PR8 Vereda da Ponta de São Lourenço. Located on the far eastern end of the island, this coastal trail takes you along a rugged, treeless peninsula with sweeping vistas. From the trail head, the line of parked cars stretched several kilometers all the way back to the nearest town of Caniçal. There were so many people trying to hike the PR8, both heading to the trail and trying to find parking, that we took one look at the scene and decided we wanted nothing to do with it. To us, that many people on a trail negates any enjoyment we would get from hiking on it. So, we decided to head into the mountains instead. Here, we discovered that even though the sky was clear on the coast, it was absolutely pissing rain in the peaks.
Despite the weather, the cars were still lined up as far as you could see outside the trailhead for the PR11 Levada dos Balcões, though nowhere near as many as on the coast. This hike is the shortest of the PR trails but still offers incredible views, making it a favorite for people who want to see beautiful things without trying very hard. The views were sure to be obstructed by clouds when we arrived, so we started the much, much longer PR10 hike across the street instead, deciding to walk until either the weather cleared or we wanted to turn around. We definitely got tired of circumnavigating the pools and puddles flooding the trail before the rain stopped. As we walked, the surely-magnificent view along the side of the trail was nothing more than formless white space; we knew we weren’t going to get much that day from the balcony viewpoint on the PR11 trial either.
But we were already out there, and the PR11 was only 1.5 km each way, so we decided to check it out anyway. Our shoes and pants were completely covered in mud, and we watched with admiration as other tourists in bright white sneakers somehow managed to keep their shoes completely clean. As expected, the views on the balcony were obscured by clouds, but it was still fun watching weather fronts move through the valley, offering brief views in the distance as the clouds momentarily parted. This afternoon was also our only real chance to drive up to the top of Pico do Arieiro, one of the highest mountains on the island. The famous and difficult PR1 hike to Pico Ruivo begins here, which offers some of the most spectacular views in Madeira, but it was closed due to damage from landslides. From the top of Arieiro, it was clear that the PR1 trek was likely all slog and no joy when the weather wasn’t clear anyway, and we weren’t sad to have missed it.
This was the day that it became clear that everything can’t always be perfect in a hiker’s paradise. We went to a restaurant in Santana called Serra e Mar where the food was actively bad for the first time in the trip. Mazz had gotten some frozen gluten free pastel de nata pastries in Funchal and left them out to thaw, and that was when it became clear our final Airbnb had a significant ant problem. Even worse, we’re pretty sure someone connected to the Airbnb robbed us: We discovered that all of the cash was mysteriously missing from Mazz’s wallet, and the only time she was with without it was when she left it in the apartment one day and audibly called out to Kirb, “I’m just going to leave my purse here today.” That said, it’s not impossible that the ants absconded with the money after Mazz touched all the bills with sticky pastel de nata hands.
For our final hike, we chose the PR9 Levada do Caldeirão Verde. This route was also pretty packed with hikers, intensified by the narrowness of the trail. For almost the entire hike, there is only enough room for traffic to move one way, so the people coming back down the trail have to give way by straddling the levada and bracing their right boot on the mossy rock wall. This trail was popular for good reason, leading past multiple waterfalls and sweeping green hills. It had a bit of everything we’d come to expect in Madeira: caves, getting wet, and lots of people speaking German. At the trailhead, there was a little shop selling refreshments and a courtyard full of kitty cats. We finished off our last day by returning to restaurant A Pipa, this time ordering grilled sardines instead of limpets and an even larger portion of Picado. We decided the key of the addictive sauce must be the bay leaves, sourced from indigenous laurel trees like the ones in Fanal Forest. We stopped by multiple shops to see if we could purchase some, hoping to unlock this secret beef in our own home cooking, but sadly, specific Madeiran bay leaves didn’t seem to be a thing you could just buy at the store.
Madeira sells itself as a hiker’s paradise, and that claim certainly isn’t false advertising. We enjoyed some fantastic hikes on this trip. Based on the sheer verticality of the landscape, we expected to be huffing and puffing up hills every day. Instead, the levadas treated us to long, flat, pleasant hikes through gorgeous landscapes that didn’t break our bodies (the stiff beds in all three of our accommodations did that, instead). While not as varied as the different islands in the Azores, the nature in Madeira was still unexpected and exciting to us, with tons of trees and plants we had never seen before. For being the “Hawaii of Europe,” most of Madeira doesn’t feel overcrowded with tourists. But even in the offseason, some of the trails and parking lots already felt like they were at critical mass; we could clearly see the line of cars outside the PR8 in the air from the plane. The food was everything we could have hoped from a Portuguese vacation, with good wine and simple dishes prepared perfectly. There are endless places to visit and explore, and if we do ever go back to Madeira, it will probably won’t be for quite a while. But if you forced us to pick a place in the EU to relocate tomorrow? Madeira would certainly be near the top of the list.