We travel along the sea. You see more and more cultivation in terraced plots. At our height there are squat banana plantations, higher up there are vineyards. No big growing operations, just small rectangles extending over the mountainside. We find ourselves in Pico da Torre, which overlooks a little village of fishermen, a place Winston Churchill used to like to come to paint. Every fishing village has a specialty, and here the men have learned to throw out 3000 meter long lines to catch the black swordfish, a species found nowhere except in Madeiran waters.

The highway takes us through 5 tunnels to Quinta Grande, and across pine and eucalyptus forests to Cabo Girao which rises majestically in the south at 580 m above sea level, making it the second highest sea cliff in the world. On this point you can admire the jagged southern coast of Madeira from Ponta da Cruz to Ribeira Brava.  

Here you'll find the last "museum village," some 30 km west of Funchal. Shops, cafés, a pretty 16th century chapel: it's a perfect stop before the big adventure. This is where the authorities plan to develop the second most important tourist development on the island, after the capital.

Before reaching Campo Grande, the "ceiling of Madeira," at 1700 m above sea level, the winding road takes us on a breathtaking adventure through a deep gorge and steep cliffs, the horizon capped with clouds. The higher we go, the more lush the vegetation. First, thousands of nasturtiums adorn the ditches. I, who have a few of them in my garden to garnish my plates, think that here they've gone mad. Higher, you'll be fascinated by the wonderful deep blue cereus flowers on little trees with candelabra-like branches. At about 800 m, the cliffs are covered with cascades of yellow flowers. A number of lookouts, or "miradors", along the road provide enchanting stopping points to gaze out over the terraced plots and the little red and white villages nestled among the greenery. The effect is indescribable. It's as if the cliff facing you is velvet, as if you're at the edge of the world. If you've been to the Andes, you'll have seen this combination of the unreal and wild beauty. At Encumeada, halfway along the road that crosses the breadth of the island, you can take in the north and south in one panoramic view.

At Encumeada, 1007 m in altitude, we turn straight west. Having gone through tunnels and edged along numerous cliff precipices, we've reached the great plateaus of Campo Grande, 1620 m high.

The road is wide and goes through the clouds. Sometimes when the ceiling is low, they're actually below us, a strange sensation, as if we're in an airplane. We're in a plush vault where time has stopped. Goats, cows and sheep graze on the tender ferns. Along the way you'll no doubt see a heifer sitting on the road or a white cow ruminating in the centre of the highway. They'll look at you, but not move. You're just a fleeting benign vision in this lost world where man only passes through.

You'll want to breathe in the dry, pure air. If you're here in January or February, don't be surprised to see the plateau covered in a white carpet of snow. With the white of the clouds, paradise has descended on the island.

You'll see all of the Riberia de Janelo valley at your feet. The road continues from lookout to lookout. Near Fonte da Pedro, we're back at 1022 m in elevation and the vegetation that had begun to look tundra-like is back to its dense exuberance. We descend again through the terraced field. In the distance are the sea and the black volcanic rocks on which the waves are breaking, and the little village of Porto Moniz, clean and white, on the far western end of the north coast.

The road winds downward and the crops are protected from the north winds by reed hedges.

Here the scene changes. The lava has modelled black sculptures that emerge from the sea. Tiny Porto Moniz has become a favorite destination for those who appreciate nature in all its wildness. Don't be deceived by the name: there's no port here, just a lot of inhospitable reefs. An immense natural basin in the lava has been fitted out with low walls and stairs so that swimmers can head down to the sea without danger.

Take advantage of the stop to dine on the patio of the Orca restaurant, which offers a delicious traditional menu: fish soup, and grilled or fried fish. But the specialty is certainly swordfish, that sleek black creature typical of Madeiran waters. Its tender meat is lightly battered in flour and eggs and served either "à la delicia" (with bananas), with kiwis, with passion fruit, or with mushrooms and cream.

You'll find a few houses clinging to the rocks that might impress even the mountain goats.

We return by following the northern coast with its savage beauty, the road pressing against the cliff face, splashed occasionally by the dizzying waterfalls that make their way even into the tunnels. Here rhododendrons grow along the highway, their roots clinging to a clod of earth against the cliff to provide a note of white and purple against the background of the rock or sea.

The little village of Seixal is dedicated to vine-growing and fishing. If you happen to pass through on January 17 for the feast of St. Anthony, the community's patron, the entire village will be celebrating, the local dry white wine flowing..... which can prove dangerous if you were planning to continue on your return journey!

In Sao Vincente, don't miss stopping to admire the landscape, where you'll see low little huts, used as sheds, among the reeds in the centre of the plantations. This is one of the oldest villages in Madeira, tucked away on the mountainside and whipped by the winds. It has been completely rebuilt according to the original architectural design and the church restored to its 16th century condition.

Here you turn inland to return to Encumeada, retracing your path to go back down toward the coast. The national highway takes you back to Riberia Brava, Funchal for a well-deserved rest.