The flowers in Madeira reminded me of my mother’s garden in South Africa. She loved gardening and the plants grew well for her – they really had no choice as she urged and cajoled them into growth. Indeed, they hardly dared not flourish! These were happy memories, but then, as I walked round the Museum of Sacred Art her last day flashed into my mind, unexpected and unwanted, and I felt that awful overwhelming sadness again. I wanted to see her, and talk to her. But somehow, at moments like this when I cry out, silently of course, she is with me; somehow she knows and somehow she is there.
A week in Madeira has been a kaleidoscope of fascinating images. The terrace farming, abandoned terraces, and the stark ravines of the interior spoke of another life which found an outlet in the Mercado Lavradores. And then there were the tourists. And overall the rainbows. I hope these few pictures capture something of what I saw, and felt.
The Botanic Gardens were amazing.
The Blandy Gardens were beautiful, even in the rain – incredibly lush and luxurious – providing a startlingly ‘English’ picture of the Island.