Madeira Madness: 300km by bicycle on the atlantic island

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Technical data

Bikepacking Madeira

ITINERARY DETAILS

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Start/Arrive	Madeira airport
Time	8 days
Elevation gain	8.700 m
Lenght	297 km
Terrain type	Asphalt 75% Gravel 25%
Suggested bike	Adventure bike Touring bike Gravel bike

RATING

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Difficulty
Panorama

WHEN TO GO

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Madeira by bike: information and advice

I covered this itinerary on Madeira by bikepacking in 8 days (plus a couple of hours of travel on the day of arrival) and due to the unstable weather I didn't completely cycle the planned route, cutting especially a day at altitude.

Not only is Madeira very humid, being on the route of the Gulf Stream, but it is particularly mountainous and there is no plain, so even on the coast the roads are a continuous ups and downs that are satisfying but tiring: be prepared to sweat a lot!?

To get all the more operational details, I refer you to the tabs at the bottom of the article where you will also find some useful links to organize your trip.

As always when you cycle on an island, the suggestion is to do it counterclockwise, to have the sea (and therefore presumably also the panoramic points) as close as possible. Also in this case, therefore, the itinerary I followed was undertaken in an anti-clockwise direction but nothing prevents you from following it in the opposite direction too: the cycled paths can be traveled in both directions.

Madeira by bike: bikepacking or cycle tourism?

The shape of Madeira makes it definitely more suitable for mountain biking than for classic cycle tourism, also because there is no shortage of paths where you can quench your desire for adrenaline. There are gravel roads but they are not very many and they are all at high altitude: mine can be defined as a gravel trip, in the sense that I traveled along roads, levadas and dirt roads that could also be done with a gravel bike but the percentage of asphalt far exceeds the dirt one.

Before describing the route I followed, I offer you an overview of the main routes that can be followed so as to be able to give you a complete picture. This information will be useful to you if you want to plan your own bike trip, while if you want to follow my itinerary you can skip reading this chapter and go directly to the next.

Roads

There are paved roads, but especially on the north coast the only practicable route is largely made up of tunnels, while the The old ER101 present on the maps is now a path without maintenance and invaded by rocks that have fallen from the high walls above (and at each access you are reminded that you proceed at your own risk) except in some short stretches.

To the south the road is much more pleasant even if it is undulating and I think that in summer it is invaded by many more cars than there are in winter.

The asphalted secondary roads are usually ramps that go straight up on the slopes of the central chain of the island with dizzying slopes that make even the worst ones pale in comparison garage ramps that you know of.

For this reason, being able to cycle off the roads makes the journey more interesting.

Gravel

There is no shortage of dirt paths and gravel roads on the island but to reach them you will have to sweat a bit because in most cases they are located at high altitude.

In particular the south-east area and the gentler slopes to the west are the areas where most of the dirt roads are concentrated, very pleasant to pedal because they often go up or down following the contours of the terrain entering and exiting the various valleys. A spectacular alternative but to be followed carefully are thelevadas.

Levadas

Over the centuries the abundance of water in Madeira's hinterland has been exploited to colonize the coast. But not all coastal locations had running water and in order to bring it, a dense network of irrigation canals called levadas was created, which made it possible to cultivate throughout the island.

This network ofover 3000 km with negligible gradients is flanked by more or less wide and maintained maintenance paths. On the route I followed, I happened to cycle some levadas, from the simplest and widest to some narrow and exposed sections to be done on foot, not recommended for the less experienced and to be absolutely avoided with cycle touring bags or bikes very busy (there are also some stairs to pass). In particular, the levada dos Tornos followed on the first and last day of the trip.

Madeira Madness: the path

But let's get to the essence of the article and try to describe the route of this bikepacking itinerary in Madeira.

Cachico, the trail and the first levada

The island's airport is on the south-east side and I set off from there, reassembling the bike directly at the airport. Since it was already evening, I tried to move east to find a comfortable and quiet place for the first night of free camping.

Literally passing under the airplane landing strips, along the seafront, I unfortunately discovered that the coastal road (Estrada da Queimada) was closed and I was forced to go back up a bit before finding a nice sloping path downhill towards the bay of Machico. A quick sandwich for dinner and off we go, we go up the regional road 214 towards Caniçal until just before the entrance to the summit tunnel. On the right, a road branches off that leads to the Pico do Facho where there are antennas, a miradouro (viewpoint) and, just below, a meadow where I decide to pitch the tent at sunset.

It's a shame that that very evening the inhabitants of Caniçal had decided to organize a mountain running event that would pass along the path alongside which I had decided to camp: there was nothing left for me to do other than go out and join the fans who in the meantime had gathered next to my tent.

The next day I get on the bike again andtry to get familiar with the bikepacking bags of which I have never been a great lover. The process of filling and connecting to the bike goes smoothly and I resume pedaling, retracing my steps for a few hundred meters.

At the beginning of the tunnel, on the opposite side of the road, the Levada do Caniçal ends which brings water to the easternmost village on the island.

I take it and I immediately realize that I will have to hone my driving skills to follow the narrow path and not end up in the canal. The clear sky immediately gives mebeautiful views of Machicobelow. At a certain point the levada, instead of following the profile of the mountain as it has done so far, goes straight and enters a tunnel. At first I think: here, the fun is over, I have to go back and take the road. In reality, the tunnel dug into the rock is high enough to allow a person to pass through and so all that remains is to turn on the front light and continue.

The negligible slopes and the possibility of pedaling, even if at a reduced pace, make me have fun but unfortunately the levada ends near the Morocos locality and the road immediately presents the bill with double-digit slopes towards Santo Antonio da Serra (also abbreviated to Santo da Serra).

Santo da Serra and the poncha

A final terrifying climb, even if it's asphalted, forces me to get off and push for a few hundred metres.

A gargantuan plate of picado is the right reward for so much effort.

Unfortunately, the fog descends quickly and humidly, accompanying my adventurous afternoon along the Levada dos Tornos. The irrigation canal will prove to be rather exposed halfway up the slope in some valleysrocky and wild. First some trunks crashed into the canal forcing me to do a tightrope walk with the bike on my shoulders and then a stone staircase into the void puts my vertigo to the test.

You can however avoid this levada by going up the regional road 110.

In Aguas Mansas, just outside the levada, I find the regional 110 and a pub packed with people watching a match and drinking a yellow drink. I ask what it is and I am told: "Poncha".

"But is it alcoholic?" I ask

"There's only a little rum" the bartender reassures me

"Awarded" I say since the climb is now over and I have nothing left to do except look for a meadow to camp.

I will then discover that poncha is the regional drink par excellence, both lemon-based and maracuja-based.</p >

After warming up my soul, I get back on the bike and immediately find a nice dirt road that takes me back east until I enter another canal, this time much wider and easier to cycle on, the levada da Serra do Faial</ strong>.

I end the day by placing the tent in a clearing alongside the canal, among eucalyptus plants that howl above my head whipped by the wind.

Bring it and the missed freeride

The next day, the awakening is kissed by a purple dawn that colors the sparse clouds on the horizon. I resume the route after spending over an hour preparing the bike. The levada da Serra do Faial continues, fun and easy to cycle, up to the locality of Lombo da Raiz where it crosses and joins the levada do Furado. I follow it, on what has now become a wide and carriageable road, for a few hundred meters and then continue on the wider route in a steep descent which from Lamaceiros takes up the asphalt again up to the Portela locality, as the name suggests eastern gateway to the north of the island.

On the map, however, I noticed a path that goes around the mountains on the coast and it seems interesting so I take the road, dirt road and wonderfully panoramic, towards the south. The forest road crosses the serra das Funduras going down and up the south-eastern valleys until reaching the pico do Furado, panoramic and windy.

A large wooden sign broken in half indicates that the path from here on is a freeride route.

Reading it doesn't reassure me at all but I try and start a straight away and technical descent which forces me to get off the saddle. A couple of hairpin bends and I realize that this track is too technical for my means. I stop, think and decide to return, not without difficulty, upwards. The alternative would have been to continue towards the bay and the Vereda do Larano but the risk of having to go back up later makes me quickly give up. I plan to keep this trail on hold for any future explorations of Madeira by MTB.

It takes me about an hour to walk 200m of path and return to the peak in the heart of the Serra das Funduras. I retrace a few kilometers of forest road and at a crossroads I decide to try another gravel road, different from the one on the way out, to return towards Portela, from where I will then continue on asphalt.

The choice this time is right and the fun and fascinating route, immersed in the forest. Once on asphalt I also find the slopes of the secondary roads, with peaks of 19% which take me back to the pass in just a few kilometres.

It's not yet midday and just beyond the center (four houses on a cross), a stunning panorama opens up on the north coast of the island and Porto da Cruz.

An arch over the ocean

The dive towardsPorto da Cruz is cool because it is completely exposed to the north. Also in this case I leave aside the path I had thought of following by studying it on the map (but full of staggering steps and dizzying slopes) and I put my heart at rest by getting off the asphalt. As soon as possible I leave the regional road even if the traffic at this time and in this period is negligible. The gradients, if possible, increase further and I bless the hydraulic brakes in the last panoramic straight line which catapults me directly into the small and sleepy village of Porto da Cruz.

Apart from a few gaunt tourists sitting at the bar facing the ocean and a couple of elderly people enjoying the midday sun like lizards, the streets of the village are deserted. I reach a beautiful beach where the path I had thought of following reaches but seeing the cliffs further down the valley I don't regret the choice.

If I have reached the edge of the ocean, I already know what awaits me and I won't let myself be surprised. I lighten the gear until I reach the most agile one in a few pedal strokes. A lookout point on a hairpin bend is a great excuse for a stop. The road winds on the mountain side but this time the climb is neither impossible nor too long. Another quick descent and I reach the Ribeira do Faial, this time without reaching the ocean shores. In fact, the town is located at high altitude and only after spitting blood for a couple more kilometers can I stop at the bar to quench my thirst.

The efforts are not finished and looking up you can see the road that cuts across the slope. It's four kilometers of climbing, this time not impossible. At the top another wonderful panoramic point gives me other glimpses of the wild coast. It's sunset and I'm undecided: a few kilometers further on, in the valley beyond the pass, there's Santana and so I'm tempted by a meal and a warm bed, leaving the tent in its bag for tonight.

Beer and picado close a long day of cycling.

The northern coast and the rain

The next morning the sun shines on Santana and immediately, leaving the last houses, I dive onto another very panoramic and sloping paved path that falls into the bay of S. Jorge. The fun serpentine is wonderful and the narrow canyon that reaches the sea is no different. Apart from a huge building that has ruined the immediate vicinity of the black pebble beach, the setting is idyllic and an old stone road closed by an arch over the ocean will remain my favorite place on this bikepacking trip in Madeira.</ p>

I linger as long as possible to listen to the undertow of the waves but then I set off again: the ascent path studied in advance is impossible and so I go around the obstacle by returning to the regional road 211 which I will never leave until the town of Boa Ventura. 

The first tunnel, just beyond Arco de São Jorge, gives me a single jolt. In reality it is short and well lit even if narrow and governed by a traffic light for alternating one-way traffic. Unfortunately, while I'm eating a sandwich in Boa Ventura, I discover that the road is closed due to construction and even the old ER101 that runs alongside the ocean is now impassable for very long stretches.

I am forced to take the series of long tunnels of the main road VE1 (then VE4), which I had tried to avoid like the plague in my planning. Luckily the period (December) is out of season and there is very little traffic. I only manage to avoid the last long tunnel towards São Vicente by staying on the regional 211 which is passable here.

The center of the village is cute: the cobbled alleys and the houses painted white with all the same window frames. From here a valley goes inland and crosses the Madeira natural parkand allows you to cross the island from north to south.

My plan is different: on one of the slopes of the park a dirt serpentine climbs towards the Ruivo du Paul peak (1640 m). The following day I would like to try my luck and then descend back to Porto Moniz via a series of paths that point towards the north-west. For today I limit myself to getting as close as possible to the entrance to the dirt road: the road climbs rough among the houses up to a hamlet called Ginjas, already at 500 m above sea level. Above the last houses there are two enormous terraces and it is precisely there that the asphalt gives way to bare earth. I stop and decide it's a perfect place to camp.

Waking up gives me a well-known and little-loved ticking sound on the tent: rain, strong and constant.

I stay in the sleeping bag until I feel the intensity of the sound drop a little so I gather courage and get ready. I knew that today could be a bad day and so I immediately make up my mind: I pack everything and retrace my steps, almost immediately locking myself in the first bar I come across to protect myself from a powerful downpour. I'm already soaked and I haven't even done 2 km!

I'll leave the climb to the future: it doesn't make sense with this day and the forecast says it will continue like this all day. Porto Moniz is 20 km away so I'm taking it easy: even today it will be a largely underground journey given the many tunnels on the coastal road but when I enter them I'm almost happy because they protect me from the incessant rain. Among other things, some are uphill and make me sweat quite a bit.

The only happy note of the day is the passage to Ribeira da Janela, where a moment's respite allows me to admire the splendid stacks without rain. This actually should have been today's destination given that here is the only managed campsite in Madeira (the others are all free and inland, you can find more information in the "Where to sleep" tab in bottom of the article) but the crazy weather convinces me to find shelter in a structure in Porto Moniz, a handful of kilometers further on.

The cliffs of the most isolated town in Madeira, exposed to the north-east winds, are wonderful and some even have the courage to bathe in the pools built between the rocks. I take refuge in my room for a while to dehumidify myself, before treating myself to a nice pescado for dinner.

The gravel roads of Madeira

The wind that rose in the evening carried away the dense rain clouds and left some traces that accompanies me as I go up the very hard climb that leaves Porto Moniz. Today we return south and the idea is to do so by climbing a little higher among the forests and meadows of the hinterland, taking advantage of the many gravel roads on this part of the island. But first I go up the slope to Santa where I want to reach a beautiful panoramic point on the westernmost part of the island: in front of me only the ocean and over there beyond the horizon the Americas.

Yet another impossible ramp takes me to the entrance to a levada which, however, is closed for safety reasons. However, the parallel road is not bad and practically without traffic so I pedal more quickly towards Achadas da Cruz where the dirt road begins which will take me towards the Pico do Chiqueiro, just below the 1000 m. The wet surface is as smooth as ice and equally slippery but the views begin to open up and the silence is broken only by the wind whipping the tops of the trees.

A few meters on the road and I immediately turn back onto the dirt road towards other valleys. In and out, out and in, up and down. I barely exceed 1000 m and the road that remains on the coast becomes a marvel. The only thing that is out of place is all the black ash and embers of a recent fire that devastated this side of the island for hundreds of hectares. The bright green ferns are a strong contrast and indicate that life goes on, but everything else has the appearance of death.

After reaching Fajã da Ovelha I decide to go down to look for some supplies and the descent turns out to be quick but fun, always on a forest road. Having found the asphalt again, I immediately come across a bar where I quench my thirst and eat a coco bowl. Following the main road 222 for a few kilometres, I move to Maloeira where I suddenly regain altitude to find another forest road and look for a place to camp, once again among the eucalyptus trees that howl in the wind and seem as if they would fall on my head at any moment other.

The night passes unscathed and so I get back up again on a beautiful gravel that first requires me a little and then stays halfway up the hill for a while. The final dive is once again one that requires consuming kilos and kilos of brake pads and Calheta arrives quickly.

The south and Funchal

A breakfast, which has now become a brunch, begins the last part of the journey, more touristy and less adventurous. From Calheta onwards, up to Funchal, I will cycle on asphalt, mostly riding the ER222 which climbs up and down to the ocean at intervals. But first I decide to hurt myself by taking what seems like a nice side road. In two kilometers it will take me to overcome over 400 m of altitude difference and I will curse every centimetre.

In Ribeira Brava I spend an early night eating churros and drinking poncha to celebrate my arrival in the deep south. The next morning I rush up the long but pedalable climb which leads me to the Miradouro of Cabo Girão, a balcony overlooking a 580m cliff!

The brushed descent leads me to Camara de Lobos where I take a seafront walkway forbidden to bicycles: I proceed at walking pace, waving and stopping to let pedestrians pass Andat the second beach I decide that today is the right day and sunny enough to take off all my sweaty clothes, keep only the pads on and dive into the waves.

The water isn't bad at all and I enjoy it by spending a couple of hours and taking a quick dip. Funchal is not far and I take it easy also because there are no other rough edges now. I arrive at the port and immediately find myself in front of the statue of Cristiano Ronaldo, the champion born here and the true pride of the island: right in front of the statue is the museum dedicated to him.</p >

Funchal, the capital of Madeira, is a city gathered around the old centre, pleasant and lively. After getting settled in, I leave the bike and stroll through the cobbled alleys, breathing in a bit of the Christmas atmosphere which, to be honest, I struggle to digest at 20°C!

There is one last day of cycling to get as close as possible to the airport but since Santa Cruz is nearby, I decide to extend the tour a little and go up towards Choupana, a suburb at the foot of Pico do Infante. As I have now learned, there is no shortage of ramps and I struggle once again but soon find myself, after a chat with some local bikers, crossing the road Caminho dos Pretos. A final steep cobbled road leads me to the entrance of the Serra do Faial levada, a pleasant and easy itinerary among yet another eucalyptus forest. I spend a good part of the morning here and as soon as I leave I find a little bar to enjoy the last bolo de coco.

In Camacha, after a rapid descent, I encounter another levada that I had already cycled further east on the first day of the trip: the levada dos Tornos. If I had remembered it I would probably have avoided taking it because it was the most adventurous and dangerous one I faced. This stretch also turns out to be narrow and exposed: I'm forced to push the bike for quite a while. I also pass a couple of tunnels but at a certain point a small waterfall falls straight onto the path and I can't help but go under it to go past it. Fortunately, after a good bit of pushing, I manage to get back on the saddle and finish this levada unscathed.

The end of the day is all downhill on asphalt and I soon reach Santa Cruz, a couple of kilometers from the airport.

The following day I have a flight home and I cycle to the airport where I left the box in storage (a drain!) and I can dismantle the bike and pack it comfortably.

This concludes this Madeira cycle and bikepacking tour. The island has given me some wonderful days surrounded by nature and I am sure that if you decide to come here you will not regret your choice, especially if you are trying to escape from the cold Italian winter days.