A Voyage in the Sunbeam | Page 9

meet some friends, with whom we had arranged to ride up
to the Gran Corral, and to breakfast there, 5,000 feet above the level of
the sea.
It soon became evident that the time we had selected for landing was

the fashionable bathing hour. In fact, it required some skill on our part
to keep the boat clear of the crowds of people of both sexes and all ages,
who were taking their morning dip. It was most absurd to see entire
families, from the bald-headed and spectacled grandfather to the baby
who could scarcely walk, all disporting themselves in the water
together, many of them supported by the very inelegant-looking
bladders I have mentioned. There was a little delay in mounting our
horses, under the shade of the fig-trees; but when we were once off, a
party of eleven, the cavalcade became quite formidable. As we
clattered up the paved streets, between vineyard and garden walls,
'curiosity opened her lattice,' on more than one occasion, to ascertain
the cause of the unwonted commotion. The views on our way, as we
sometimes climbed a steep ascent or descended a deep ravine, were
very varied, but always beautiful. About half-way up we stopped to rest
under a delightful trellis of vines, by the side of a rushing mountain
stream, bordered with ferns; then, leaving the vineyards and gardens
behind us, we passed through forests of shady Spanish chestnut trees,
beneath which stretched the luxurious greensward.
At ten o'clock we quitted this grateful shade, and arrived at the neck of
the pass, facing the Gran Corral, where we had to make our choice of
ascending a conical hill, on our left, or the Torrinhas Peak, on our right.
The latter was chosen, as promising the better view, although it was
rather farther off, so we were accordingly seized upon by some of the
crowd of peasants who surrounded us, and who at once proceeded to
push and pull us up a steep slippery grass slope, interspersed with large
boulders. The view from the top, looking down a sheer precipice of
some 1,500 feet in depth into the valley below, was lovely. Quite at the
bottom, amid the numerous ravines and small spurs of rocks by which
the valley is intersected, we could distinguish some small patches of
cultivated ground. Above our heads towered the jagged crests of the
highest peaks, Pico Ruivo and others, which we had already seen from
the yacht, when we first sighted the island.
A pleasant walk over some grassy slopes, and two more hard scrambles,
took us to the summit of the Torrinhas Peak; but the charming and
extensive view towards Camara de Lobos, and the bay and town of

Funchal, was an ample reward for all our trouble. It did not take us long
to get back to the welcome shade of the chestnut trees, for we were all
ravenously hungry, it being now eleven o'clock. But, alas! breakfast
had not arrived: so we had no resource but to mount our horses again
and ride down to meet it. Mr. Miles, of the hotel, had not kept his word;
he had promised that our provisions should be sent up to us by nine
o'clock, and it was midday before we met the men carrying the hampers
on their heads. There was now nothing for it but to organise a picnic on
the terrace of Mr. Veitch's deserted villa, beneath the shade of camellia,
fuchsia, myrtle, magnolia, and pepper-trees, from whence we could
also enjoy the fine view of the fertile valley beneath us and the blue sea
sparkling beyond.
Wednesday, July 19th.--We were so tired after our exertions of
yesterday, that it was nine o'clock before we all mustered for our
morning swim, which I think we enjoyed the more from the fact of our
having previously been prevented by the sharks, or rather by the
rumour of sharks.
We were engaged to lunch at Mr. and Mrs. Blandy's, but I was so
weary that I did not go ashore until about six o'clock in the evening,
and then I went first to the English cemetery, which is very prettily laid
out and well kept. The various paths are shaded by pepper-trees,
entwined with bougainvillæa, while in many places the railings are
completely covered by long trailing masses of stephanotis in full bloom.
Some of the inscriptions on the tombs are extremely touching, and it is
sad to see, as is almost always the case in places much resorted to by
invalids, how large a proportion of those who lie buried here have been
cut off in the very flower of their youth. Indeed, the residents at
Madeira complain that it is a melancholy drawback to the charms of
this beautiful island, that the friendship frequently formed between