The Arrival

Our smooth landing in Madeira promised a good start. I’d heard about the island’s challenging runway and frequent go-arounds. Thankfully, we had no issues.

Four Nights at the Cliff Bay Hotel

At the Cliff Bay Hotel, they welcomed us with a generous late-night treat. We melted into a cushy settee with wine, fruit, and sweets.

Our suite felt more like a classy master bedroom than a hotel room. Everything was in its place.

The balcony view looked like it was staged for a Hollywood production. I was speechless.

The lawn was trimmed to perfection, like a velvet carpet.

In fact, I had to touch the grass to make sure it was real.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” the guardian of the grass inquired. I smiled politely but thought to myself:

“No. I don’t need your help touching the grass.”

The hotel staff—a small army of polished professionals—were always around, wherever you looked. They were eager to answer questions in hushed voices and dutifully open doors.

One dedicated staff member pressed the elevator button for you, and another kept you company when you wanted to stare at the Atlantic Ocean.

The infinity pool at the Cliff Bay Hotel

The atmosphere around the pool felt like a mix of a high-end sanatorium and a summer library.

Books were everywhere. Some even served as sunshades, while others became headrests for afternoon naps.

At one point, my rubber flip-flop slipped off.

Flop!

A couple of heads turned in my direction as if to say:

“No noise, please, madam. People are relaxing here.”

The lack of music, the hushed conversations, and the long hours spent with books – all suggested that people took relaxation very seriously.

The food

In general, I enjoyed the food as much as the service. However, some of the elaborate dishes left me indifferent. I prefer simple food. I’d rather have a hearty seafood soup than a microscopic portion of some unidentifiable delicacy.

Venturing into Funchal’s Old Town and Rua Santa Maria

After swimming in the ocean and relaxing by the pool at the Cliff Bay Hotel, we set out to explore Funchal. Late that evening, we ventured toward Rua Santa Maria.

I had read about the street art project there and wanted to see it for myself.

The project, Arte de Portas Abertas (The Art of Open Doors), was a collective initiative by local artists to help revive the area after the devastating 2010 floods.

The project breathed new life into the neighborhood by opening restaurant, café, and shop doors, making Rua Santa Maria one of Madeira’s most fascinating destinations.

Rua Santa Maria is a narrow street lined with outdoor restaurants, where the painted doors become inseparable from street life. At night, it turns into a living, breathing organism, with restaurant offerings as imaginative as the artwork on the doors.

The boundaries between inside and outside dissolve, and so do the formalities between people. Everyone is exposed. Tourists continuously snap photos with their iPhones. My husband scolded me for taking a picture “almost in someone’s plate,” as he put it. But nobody seemed to mind. In fact, it felt almost expected.

With everyone facing outward and sitting within arm’s reach of one another, it becomes easy to strike up a conversation or share a joke. It is one of those places where you can ignore convention and enjoy the luxury of just being.

The Mountains

Over the next two days, we toured both the eastern and western parts of the island, exploring Madeira’s unique landscape, where the ocean is inseparable from the tremendous vastness of the mountains.

My heart was beating faster with anticipation.

However, we weren’t about to knock ourselves senseless chasing another batch of photos. We wanted to slow down and keep our eyes open, not just our iPhones.

Some sights were especially magical.

The Valley of the Nuns

Curral das Freiras is a village named after the nuns from the Santa Clara Convent who fled there in 1566 to escape French pirates. The village at the bottom of the valley looked like a miniature I built with the kids.

Looking down into the deep, unforgiving canyon, you feel its enormous power.

At the top of the mountain, you gasp in gratitude for the privilege of witnessing such untouched beauty.

Fanal Forest

The fog-wrapped trees of Fanal Forest looked as though they were lost in time.

Their presence was equally eerie and magnificent. It felt as if an invisible line between the past and present lay right before your eyes. Cross it, and you enter a portal to another world.

Monte Palace Tropical Garden

The hilly terrain helps define its separate sections. Unlike Madeira’s wild mountains, Monte Palace Tropical Garden is a landscape-design masterpiece.

Look down, and a Japanese-inspired garden comes into full view. You might question how closely its design follows authentic Japanese aesthetics, but it is undeniably beautiful.

Then glance up, and suddenly a splendid green wall cascades down in a magnificent composition of plants and flowers.

Exotic birds, including peafowl and flamingos, entertain visitors gathered in the square.

Perhaps because of my ridiculous hat with a shiny eye on the front, the birds mistook me for a member of their tribe.

Soon enough, they approached me and apparently claimed my delicious pineapple drink.

I wouldn’t budge.

Then one of the white peafowl decided to deploy all her primal charisma 🙂

She began striking poses as if proposing a fair trade.

“I’ll pose for a stunning Instagram photo! I’ll trade you a perfect shot for your drink, sister! How about that?”

Just in case, I tightened my grip on the drink. Fair or not, I took the photos anyway.

And just like that, I disappeared into the Funchal Cable Car, heading down toward the hotel area. 

Two Nights at the Albatroz Hotel

We had only two nights left before our flight home.

Cliff Bay had no vacancies, so I chose the Albatroz Hotel, mainly for its proximity to the airport and convenient parking.

The online photos of its pool also caught my attention. I thought that staying in a different part of the island would add a few more strokes to my picture of Madeira.

Within ten minutes of checking in, we were already flip-flopping down the stairs.

The infinity pool at the Albatroz Hotel

What came into view was a ridiculously impressive infinity pool.

The first thing that made me scratch my head in disbelief was the enormous, cinematic cave stretching along the entire length of the pool. The concrete pool was anchored directly into the cliff.

It reminded me of the scene in the Odyssey movie when they enter the cave with Polyphemus.

Cautiously, I examined it from the inside. My heart beat faster, as if I secretly hoped for a one-on-one encounter with Polyphemus :).

The cliff looked even more exotic from inside the pool. The cave’s mystery still took hold of me as the ocean splashed me out of my childhood fantasy.

Knock, knock. No Polyphemus. He wasn’t home :).

“Check your map, ma’am,” I heard myself thinking. “You’re in the Atlantic Ocean, not in Greece.” That was hard to argue with.

People were sunbathing right on the concrete slab. No cushy lounge chairs—or any chairs, for that matter.

The setup brought me back to my childhood summers in Odessa, where we spent our days on rough concrete slabs emerging from the sea. At Albatroz, you’re trusted to swim responsibly. No lifeguard.

The Service and the Restaurant

No one at Albatroz escorted you on their cave tour. And yet, you felt well taken care of. The staff was always available whenever you needed anything. You just had more room to breathe. We had a couple of meals at Hibiscus, the hotel’s restaurant. The food was fresh and delicious.

Did I mention the incredible garden?

The garden was my second favorite spot, after the pool.

The trees’ whisper and layers of tropical flowers made me want to get lost in their shade, feel the soft breeze on my face, and admire the glistening ocean below.

The next day, we exited the fairy tale.

The hotel graciously dropped us off at the airport.

On the Plane Back

On the plane, I was thinking:

Some years ago, a luxurious trip like this would have been unimaginable. We had other priorities. Children, work—the usual.

I remember celebrating my birthday at Sbarro Pizza. To us, Sbarro was a top-notch restaurant, and I wore black velvet with glitter. We even managed to dance to the music playing overhead without getting arrested. We laughed our heads off.

To us, going out for pizza was a luxury. We were happy there and proud we could afford it.

At Cliff Bay, I overheard two ladies talking. One told the other how disappointed she was with a travel agent who scheduled her gondola ride twenty minutes later than she wanted.

She was very upset.

“And it was a very reputable travel agency!” she said grimly.

Perfection is the enemy of excellence.