It was the tiniest of power cuts, lasting no more than two minutes, but it cast a strangely surreal shadow over my weekend in Madeira. I had been invited on a press trip to Reid's Palace Hotel and - given my deep love of grand hotels and my total ignorance of Madeira - I said don't mind if I do. But then there was the aforementioned power cut at Gatwick just as we were leaving, which meant that all the baggage conveyor belts stopped and we (and several thousand other passengers) flew off without our luggage. Only to learn on arrival in Funchal that there were no more flights from Gatwick that day, or Sunday, so it meant a weekend without clothes.
Normally this wouldn't matter too much but Reid's is a VERY grand hotel, where guests seem to change their clothes almost hourly. They dress for tea, and then change for cocktails and then for dinner. Moreover, we were meant to be going to Reid's Saturday dinner dance, which is the social highlight of Madeira. People take dancing lessons specially - the hotel has a wonderful photograph of George Bernard Shaw with pointy toes preparing to dance the foxtrot with his instructor. But we were told that we couldn't even peep at the dinner-dance unless we were properly dressed. In retrospect perhaps it's as well the airline lost our luggage - I might have turned up at the dinner-dance and been rejected for not wearing enough sequins.
Meanwhile, the airline, with astonishing generosity (possibly inspired by the fact that we were journalists), said that we could buy whatever we needed in the way of clothes and they would refund us. Yippee! we yelled, hareing off to Funchal's biggest shopping mall, dreaming of buying an entire wardrobe at the airline's expense. Dream on. Madeira makes Woolies look like Harvey Nicks. There was nothing in the shopping mall that I could even face trying on, let alone wearing. I was desperate for a swimming costume because the hotel pool looked so inviting, but all the shops said they only did swimming costumes in summer - which is crazy when the whole point of Madeira is that it never gets cold. Eventually someone told me of a remote shop that might have one, so I scurried across town, and reluctantly spent €80 of the airline's money on the world's most hideous cozzy, a turquoise floral cocktail number with glitter stripes.
Still, I was glad I did so because the pool at Reid's is gorgeous, properly rectangular (don't you hate freeform pools?) with lovely marble edges, lawns beyond and a beautiful view of the sea. There is also a seawater pool down by the jetty, which you reach by lift, and a roped-off area where you can swim in the sea. While the others sampled Reid's fabulously well-equipped new spa, I splashed around like a turquoise cocktail walrus with rapidly rusting glitter stripes. Who needs spas when you can swim?
It was very strange creeping around a posh hotel for three days in the same increasingly grubby outfit, washing my smalls in the bathroom and drying them with a hairdryer. On Sunday it was so cold I had to wear my bathrobe to keep warm, which meant I couldn't go on a planned levada walk. This was a pity because levadas sound like my ideal form of walking: paths along irrigation canals that go right around the mountains, but are completely flat so you can enjoy stupendous views without ever having to climb. But actually it was wet that day as well as cold, so the people who did go said it was too cloudy to see anything.
The next day, I managed to shed my bathrobe and try Madeira's unique excitement - tobogganing down the road from Monte, a village above Funchal. Apparently this used to be a traditional mode of transport because all the roads in Madeira are so steep; nowadays you can only do it at Monte. The tobaggans are basket chairs for two or three people, mounted on steel runners, which two men steer with ropes from behind, swinging the sleds in zig-zags to slow progress and braking with their boots.
After this I needed a stiff snifter so we adjourned to Blandy's wine lodge in the centre of Funchal for the statutory madeira tasting. Blandy's is a nice old higgledy-piggledy 17th-century building, permeated with the sweet smell of madeira. This tastes a bit like sherry and comes in four types, ranging from the palest and driest, sercial, to the sweetest and darkest, malmsey. I thought it drinkable in small doses but not something you would want to make a habit of.
I find it hard to see why people get so hooked on Madeira. Its raison d'etre used to be that it was a good midway stopping point for liners plying between England and South Africa, and had - still has - a balmy climate all year round, seldom rising above 28C or falling below 15C, refreshed by gentle sea breezes. A 1928 advertisement for Reid's Hotel promises: 'Happy Sunny Days. No Rain. No Dust. Unequalled Private Sea Bathing. Orchestra playing during bathing hours.' Alas, no orchestra now and either the climate has changed or 'No rain' was a lie. There was plenty while we were there. Another advertisement for Madeira, dated 1931, explains: 'All roads are PAVED, consequently there is NO DUST.' Presumably this made it good for asthmatics.
I'm surprised the posters didn't mention 'No Insects Either' because that is another oddity. Madeira has fabulous flora, especially orchids, but almost no fauna at all. It has one native animal species, a lizard, but no mammals apart from domesticated imports. It has a very limited avifauna and surprisingly few insects. In the Caribbean, if you leave your breakfast on the balcony for 10 minutes, you will come back to find it swarming with wildlife; but you could safely leave it for a day in Madeira. I found it depressing seeing gardens full of glorious flowers, with no birds or butterflies taking advantage of them. Still, I suppose the lack of insects is another plus for Madeira's geriatric fans.
Although I wasn't much impressed by Madeira, I did love Reid's Hotel. I expected it to be faded and fusty (it is more than 100 years old) but it is beautifully decorated and on sparkling form after a recent facelift. It looks nothing much from the road, but that is because it was designed to be approached by sea - it holds a commanding position on its own headland overlooking the port. It is still very quaint in many ways, with a bridge room, a billiards room, a library of bound copies of Punch, and a noticeboard advertising the evening's entertainment - the Madeira Mandolin Orchestra playing Light Classics. But then it has this state of the art new spa, designed to attract younger visitors.
Will it succeed? I feel myself, at 62, a bit too old for the spa and a bit too young for the Mandolin Orchestra - but I could happily live in Reid's swimming pool for the rest of my life.
Essentials
British Airways (ba.com) flies to Funchal, Madeira, from Gatwick up to seven times a week this winter, with one-way all-inclusive fares starting at £59. The lead-in rate for a double king or twin superior room at Reid's Palace (020 7960 0500; reidspalace.com) is from £298.39 per room, per night including breakfast.
