We left Cascais on 30th July and had a fabulous sail all the way down to Porto Santo, arriving and dropping anchor early evening on the 2nd Aug. Gave the boat a quick tidy up whilst Franco sulked looking at the shore that he clearly wasn’t going to be allowed to scent as his own until the morning, once we had checked in.
Right in the Atlantic Ocean, Porto Santo, 11km long and 6km wide, is known as the Golden Island, for its 9km stretch of golden sand and turquoise sea. It’s a quick hop for people in Madeira to visit, which many of them they do on the weekend. Apparently if you bury yourself in the sand it has healing powers. I realised this after we left otherwise I would have gone full on turtle and still be buried there.
Our main aim was to get to Madeira where Lee was looking forward to catching up with an old work friend, but our pals Rob and Nerys from Ghost Rider had recommended this as a stop so why not. After checking in with a grumpy policeman who told us they spoke Portuguese, not Spanish and went on to say it was like Scottish and English, they were 2 completely different languages, Lee escorted me out before I could say anything that would get us thrown off the island.
And off we went for an explore! There’s pretty much 1 main road and the shops are off this. There’s a lovely beach and a big mountain. We had some good coffee, stocked up on some supplies and yet again I saw some sardines and caved in, utterly determined to like the bony bastards. Bag of sardines in one hand and crate of beer in the other we made our way back to the boat. I proceeded to BBQ the hell out of those fish which, finally, like a ray of light shining through a cloudy sky, we got it. They were AWESOME!!! I had finally fallen in love with those fishy little fuckers. The trick is to buy tiddlers and BBQ them. That done we drank beer and covered the boat in fenders due to all the idiots surrounding us that seemed to think we were a pontoon. It may have helped if the website for the marina had been updated to say it was completely closed for repairs but they hadn’t.
The next day we ended up chatting with a lovely couple who were on a cat heading back up to the UK via Portugal. So the reverse of what we had done. They hadn’t realised the angry Orca issue so we lent them our pinger, we had a beer and they told us about a lovely hike they had done. We planned to do this the next day, complete with lunch at the restaurant they had suggested at the mid way point.
Up nice and early the next day we followed the directions we had been given. Helped by All Trails (best app EVER if you like walking BTW, and don’t be a tight wad. Upgrade! Worth every penny) we left the marina and turned right.
The hike was recommended by non doggy people. Something we will bear in mind next time!! Although really beautiful it was all scree and hugging the cliff sides while hoping Franco didn’t get side tracked and launch himself and Lee off the cliff edge. We were looking for a tunnel which didn’t seem to be there.
Eventually we found the tunnel. And a jeep with bloody tourists in who had taken the safer option and driven!! They were kind enough to take our photo and we carried on, all the while they were still wondering where the hell we had appeared from.
After the tunnel we carried on along a dirt path around the rugged North Coast, which although beautiful was a little terrifying with the fierce waves crashing against the barren rocks. We were pleased to find the restaurant as planned, and walked up the hill only to find the bloody thing closed. Hungry and now sulking (me, might I clarify!) we walked back down the hill and then realised there was one road out and it had no pavement. And some heavy, industrial traffic with drivers who thought they were at the Nurburgring. With no pavements, a dick dog with zero road sense and idiot drivers we decided it was safer to carry Franco. Up a mountain. Tag teaming the carrying (read I did it twice) we finally reached the top.
And realised it was a view point with even more idiot drivers, still no pavement and a very long way home carrying the dog. He seemed quite happy at this arrangement so we carried on and eventually got back to the boat via a quick supermarket pit stop.
Once back to the boat we settled down and I made Lee his favourite; mussels but with a chilli kick. Then an early night and after 3 days an early start to head to Madeira.