1. Marooned, shipwrecked on an island in the middle of the Atlantic are the little family in the villa Teresa at the top of the mountain. No views, no sights, in fact where are we. We can see no further than our noses because of the mist and the stair-rod rain. Does anybody know we are here. We are isolated and the airport is closed.
2. What is this place called Madeira, full of flowers and sunshine? Have we arrived at the wrong place.
3. The mountain is steep - the levadas are steep and all the steps up to activity are steep and the rain comes down like cats and dogs. How lucky we are to have a courtesy bus we can call upon. Just call 872 and they will come to take you to civilisation - to a mini market, to a games room, and an indoor swimming pool.
4. We are coming down the mountain, without rain, we are coming down the mountain without rain. Singing ey, ey yipee, singing ey, ey yipee. Funchal - gracious did we spot some blue sky up there. We walking along the harbour in the blustery wind; we wound our way along trailing two young tots, jumping on and off walls.
5. How different this all is from expectations. What is this place on a mountain in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean?
1 comment:
Memorable is probably not the word you would use to describe your opening days. Deplorable, not what we were led to expect by that nice young woman in the travel agency, perhaps the pilot got it wrong - these words are the more likely ones.
Persevere, of course. Persevere. Indeed, you may be reading these comments in bright sunlight, in the company of people who are speaking English, wearing hats with slogans such as 'Arsenal', who are checking their e-mails.
There'll be blue skies over the misty mountain, just you wait and see.
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