When I catch a view of Funchal City for the first time, I’m riding in the backseat along the highway. The Via Rápida 1 gives true meaning to the word like nowhere else: rapid. The elevation will have you gliding through the air effortlessly. Perched atop that mountainside, I look down at the bay like how a goshawk sees its target landing. I want to be there.
It was seamless to arrive at the bottom. The streets are laid out so well that transporting around the island proves a smooth transition albeit meandering like a sidewinding snake. We hit the off-ramp and within ten minutes dropped to sea level. My ears pop and crackle while my head spins at the change in altitude. It was merely a half hour from the airport to the city center. And to think—how much longer would that have taken back in the day? Just imagine with a donkey and carriage on the old roads—what a trip!
Everything sinks in when I finally get a grip. I’m here.
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