14-15th of July

Early start, still dark. Haven’t done it for ages, at least for 3 weeks, since we’ve finished school. Feels like ages ago. Excited like a kid. Remained with me from my childhood, when going on vacation was limited to 2 weeks at the lake Balaton. Back then everything was special. Traveling abroad meant visiting the neighbouring communist countries. Been to Bulgaria twice and have fond memories of both trips. We visited again last summer, going down memory lane, a retro trip, but we did enjoy it immensely. Wasn’t exactly a 5 star hotel, food was ok at best, but my son loved it. There were water slides, sea, lots of sand to play with.

Now where was I? Oh yes, sand. We wanted to experience the sandy beach of Porto Santo. Sadly Madeira’s beaches are mostly pebbled ones. The funny thing is that I’ve just found out that the beach covered with sand imported from North Africa is in Machino. I honestly thought that Calhetta beach is the sandy one. Been there last time and I was kind of disappointed, kept looking for that golden sand. My apologies.

So we took the boat to Porto Santo. Loved it last time, was really looking forward to the the pleasant trip, the nice breakfast, gentle breeze in my hair while standing on the deck. How I wished later on that we opted for the plane instead. There are flights from Funchal, I was told that it only takes about 15 minutes. We visited it in last October. Nice place, lacking the lush vegetation of Madeira (mentioned the rabbit theory earlier), but it has a gorgeous golden sandy beach, over 9 km long. Why can’t we have that in Madeira? The plan was to spend a night there, this way we have almost 2 days. This trip almost ended my budding “career” as a blog writer, at least for a while.
Sea was stormy, huge waves, wind was howling, yet I still wanted to take some pictures. Abdullatif decided to come with me, him wanting to smoke. Followed him through the door, almost made it, when it slammed on my right hand. Remember screaming, ex got it out and had me sit down. Someone from the crew looked at it, got bandage, painkillers, managed the day with them.
Pain apart, we had a wonderful time. We booked a night at the Pestana Colombos. The room was quite big with a bathtub in it. Very romantic. Even got a bottle of sparkling wine. Used the ice bucket it was brought in for plunging my swollen hand into it for instant relief. Not quite what they had in mind.
This hotel is an all inclusive one, operates for only six months. Connected to the other Pestana hotel, is right on the beach, just had to cross a wooden bridge to the shore. View was nice, sand dunes with ocean in the background. Immediately we went to discover the pools, gardens. Fell in love again, this time with the desert landscaped gardens, grasses, gorgeous reddish ones swaying gently in the breeze, lots of succulents. Others were: Lantana Camara, Bougainville and quite a few Albizia Julibrissin. My sister’s absolute favourite, got a lovely scent. Have never seen so many Pennisetum setaceum rubrum in one place combined beautifully with other drought tolerant plants….Piet Oudolf might like it, though might be too barren for his taste.
The courtyard was inviting with lots of tables, chairs, loungers with relaxing music in the background. Pools were nice, but honestly haven’t been to them. Why should I when I have the sea/ocean right there. Got a bucket and a spade with Mish and down we went. Waves were huge, my son thought that somehow he got Poseidon, the God of the sea angry. Jumping up and down in the crashing waves, trying to walk all the way to the “end” of the beach got us really tired. Luckily in the cold water my hand didn’t hurt that much.
Later we did go into the “center” of Vila Baleira, the capital of Porto Santo. My ex husband’s comment:” They definitely don’t have to worry about traffic jams.”
Vila Baleira is the only major town on the island with a few restaurants, shops. Last time we visited the Christopher Columbus museum. They believe, though it hasn’t been proven, that he actually lived in this house when he was married to the daughter of the founder of Porto Santo, Filipa Moniz. Inside we saw some maps of his travel, a model of one of his boats, memorabilia of Columbus. Very interesting, even for kids.
In October we took a bus tour around the island, stopped by the Golf course. Many people come here for the golf as well. It is a sleepy little island with a very relaxing atmosphere. Another thing we missed is their famous “Lambeca’s” ice cream, next time maybe. Apparently they’ve been using the same machine since they opened over 40 years ago.

We did enjoy walking around the little streets aimlessly, pink oleanders everywhere, kids sitting playing games on their phones, chatting just like anywhere else in the world.
A day at the beach and walking got us hungry. Planned to eat at the Marrakech, a Moroccan restaurant but opted for Maramao instead. It was right across the hotel, so we were home in a minute. Was a very friendly place, though getting a pizza took ages. Everyone was so patient, 3 guys next to us must have waited over an hour for a few take away pizzas, drinking limoncello shots one after another. So I went with the flow and relaxed with my wine. Did help with the pain a bit. The following day was spent on the beach, chasing waves, building sand castles with my son. The sky was so dark, took some amazing pictures. Had I had more time and 2 properly functioning hands, would have liked going on a jeep safari. There is also horse-riding, walks, pedal karts, diving to be enjoyed, and let’s not forget the Thalassotherapy & Spa which is one of the best equipped in the country when it comes to balneotherapy.

Luckily we had a very late 6.pm checkout, so we had plenty of time to relax and enjoy their nonstop snack bar. The amount of food that goes to waste is so sad. People think that if they payed for an all inclusive trip, then they can take as much food as they like, even if they don’t eat it. Their motto is:” I payed for it, so I take it!” Once I saw a lady piling up 13 peaches on a plate. Yes, I did count it, as she was building a small pyramid of them.

Going back to the ship we had a lovely 74 years old taxi driver, been living in Porto Santo all his life. Wonder what it must feel like growing up, then spending your adulthood at the same place. Is he contended, did he dream of another life?
Reaching Madeira, as I inhaled the salty, humid, heavily scented air I felt light headed, almost giddy. I’ve arrived, I was home.