Totally Tropical

Sustained by a good breakfast we ordered a taxi for the trip up to the Monte Palace Gardens (referred to by our airport driver as the Tropical Gardens). It only took about 15 minutes as we wound our way up the hills, around the switchback roads and through the little hamlets. The driver dropped us  by the gates at the end of the cable car run. Conde Nast Traveler rates these as one of the thirteen most beautiful botanical gardens in the world. The Gorse Fox would not dispute this. He would rate them as the best he has ever seen.

We started with a coffee on the terrace looking down through the dense foliage. Here and there you could make out pathways, streams, bridges, and arches. This was going to be interesting. As we perused the map and discussed the route we realised that while the gardens occupied 70,000 sq m, there was a lot to see. That started with the ceramic pot just behind the SIlver Vixen. This must have been 8 feet high and was certainly large enough to house a family of four and their dog.

We started down through the glades. Waterfalls and streams tumbled and trickled down by the well maintained walkways. Oriental styled bridges and arches led to new viewpoints, stone Buddhas lined the paths and grinned from the undergrowth. Huge Japanese stone lanterns sat watchfully, lining the route. It was quite magical. Slowly we made our way down, zigging first this way and then zagging back the other. There was so much to see and every sight had multiple viewpoints.

Eventually the denser planting open out to a central lake. Water played across the surface from several fountains and a huge cascade. A few small islands were  accessible across causeways or bridges and a high-level path led round, overlooking the whole view. We took the high level route and wound our way past koi ponds to the very edge of the garden. Here we found the boundary road which is famous for the wicker toboggans that whisk people down the mountain side. We watched in amusement as people hurtled past - in some cases screaming. Would the Gorse Fox or Silver Vixen do this? Not on your nelly.

We stopped for a while near the bottom of the garden and just sat and took in the view over the Bay of Funchal. Behind us was a statue of a woman pulling a young girl. The caption immediately came to  mind 'No, Ellie, there's no more cheese!'

We moved on passing the Monte Palace itself. This had once been an hotel but closed when the owner died. The whole place was then bought by a businessmen who had made his money in minerals. He set about creating the whole venture as we see it today and donated it to a foundation, which he funded.

We looped back round past the lake and down into the southern Oriental garden. This was more Chinese in style (the upper garden being more Japanese). Koi grazed through the streams and water trickled everywhere. It really was quite magical. It was also time for a beer. We made our way to a terrace in the south eastern corner and grabbed a beer and a cake and just sat under the trees watching the world go by. Finally it was time to move and we looped back up through the eastern side of the garden. As we went we read the huge ceramic panels that illustrated the history of Portugal back through the ages.

Back near the top of the garden was museum. Two level showed Africa art - essentially stone carvings. Now the Gorse Fox knows what he likes and concludes that he is a Philistine. He though they (and there may have been close on a 1000 items) were ugly and wouldn't give them shelf space in an outside loo, let alone in a museum. The third level of the museum, however, was a collection of minerals. Again there were about 1000 exhibits but these were superb. Nearly all of them were from Brasil but illustrated the various crystalline structures lurking in the banks of the rivers there. It really was intriguing.

Finally, after three or four hours, we were done. The garden had filled us with joy and made our spirits soar. It was time to join them, so we climbed aboard the cable car and took off into thin air, dangling in a pod hanging from a cable strung between pylons that strode down the mountainside right down to the marina where we had been yesterday. The Silver Vixen had been nervous about it but decided she would face her fear. Half way down, the immortal words 'Are we nearly there yet?' indicated she was not enjoying it too much.

Back at the marina we decided that we would walk back to the hotel rather than get a taxi (which had been the original plan). What a day that had been.