and then had a beautiful devotional time together: “When time was right, I revealed Myself to you… I sang you a Love song, whose beginning and end are veiled in eternity. I infused meaning into your mind and harmony into your heart. Join Me in signing My song. Together we will draw others out of darkness into My marvelous Light” (Young, p. 18). Such penetrating truth and imagery! Soon after breakfast we made our way to the city, not by shuttle bus today, but walking about a mile along the “Pontinha” (the little point) which was the name of the part of Lisbon that we lived in for a couple of years. We decided to go with taxi driver, Sr. Leonaldo, instead of the yellow tour bus option. 
His black Mercedes, his command of historical and local knowledge confirmed that we had made a good decision going with him. He said that we really needed to see the island from the highest point, Cabo Girao, at 580 m (over 1800 ft) straight up from the sea. Whew. I’m not much for heights but it was spectacular. 
So much of our two hour drive reminded us of Azores or parts of Portugal! – fishing ports crowded with brightly colored fishing boats, their colorful fishermen and lots of sleeping dogs on the docks,
cafes with small metal tables and chairs spilling onto the sidewalks, fish split open and hung-up to dry, farms terraced up and down the sides of the high hills, pastel painted houses with clay tile roofs built along narrow, asphalt roadways that wind around the hills, a few gypsies hanging out at the look-out point, a cross at highest point of the island. Then the city center charmed us with her familiar characteristics -- we could have been in Coimbra or Lisbon or Angra do Heroismo – seeing architecture so purely Portuguese (except for the castle that we knew instantly was Spanish), visiting the centrally-placed cathedral, seeing flowered-filled boxes, gardens and parks everywhere
and walking on sidewalks laid in swirling designs with white and black rocks in mosaic. We each had our little coffee “bica cheia” and cabbage soup “caldo verde”, VERY traditional treats.
Back on board the ship
a folk group from Madeira presented a show of song and dance. The four couples of the group wore traditional outfits, danced and sung songs from the 11 Catholic parishes on the island.
and walking on sidewalks laid in swirling designs with white and black rocks in mosaic. We each had our little coffee “bica cheia” and cabbage soup “caldo verde”, VERY traditional treats.
Back on board the ship
a folk group from Madeira presented a show of song and dance. The four couples of the group wore traditional outfits, danced and sung songs from the 11 Catholic parishes on the island. 
The island needs rain desperately; the yellowing, dry leaves on the small trees that lined our walk along the dock told that story. On Tennerife there has been no rain all year. But there is no dryness in the style and motifs on Madeia!
What a trip down memory lane! We lived from 1974-79 in Portugal, then 1983-1990 in Portugal again plus in the Azores. Those years provided us a full passel of lovely memories! Today was a “day spent in Portugal” for us – delightful! My only wish was that our children, the 4 couples of them, could have shared the time with us.
What a trip down memory lane! We lived from 1974-79 in Portugal, then 1983-1990 in Portugal again plus in the Azores. Those years provided us a full passel of lovely memories! Today was a “day spent in Portugal” for us – delightful! My only wish was that our children, the 4 couples of them, could have shared the time with us.
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