Sailaway

I was just in time to see the Christian Radich say farewell to the harbour in Funchal. The pilot boat was close by …….

I’d headed down to Sete Mares, the lovely coffee shop where the pasteis de nata are baked fresh every morning. I burned my mouth one day (in spite of being warned) but today I was careful and simply enjoyed the warm softness of this very special Madeiran treat.

I strolled around an unbelievably humid Funchal, as bands and entertainers were getting ready. 

A visit to the prizewinning chocolate shop, and then an early snack in Ristorante Londres for bacalau a bras (half portion of course). 

I decided against watching the game in the fan zone, but I did stroll through - very quiet with three hours to go.

The buses were packed and our stroppy driver was shouting at us to move along. I’m neither tall enough to swing from the roof, nor young enough to cope with the mad cornering. I’d had enough and just got off when he stopped to have a more forceful tirade.

Not far to walk, and I was richly rewarded. There was my only Monarch of this very rainy week, just waiting as I wandered back for the game(s).  He’s my extra.