From Land Cruisers to Levada Lanes — My First Drive in Madeira
Stunning winding roads
When I lived in Doha, my biggest driving fear was the Land Cruiser. Those things ruled the roads like 4x4 royalty, fast, fearless, and fond of tailgating at 140 km/h. I genuinely thought I’d seen it all.
For context: I was driving a Hummer H2 at the time. Big. Loud. Indestructible.
Then I moved to Madeira… and swapped it for a Golf.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, prepares you for your first encounter with a full-sized bus on a mountain road that barely qualifies as one lane. A cliff on one side, banana trees on the other. I nearly fainted at the wheel. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, just me, my little car, and a bus driver who looked deeply unimpressed that I existed at all.
No friendly wave. No reassurance. Just a look that said this was not his first time, and definitely wouldn’t be his last.
I had to reverse. On a curve. Slowly. Terrified. The kind of moment that ages you about five years.
Once you recover from the mild heart attack, something unexpected happens. Driving in Madeira becomes… addictive. Looking back now, it’s almost funny, though I’d prefer not to relive that particular manoeuvre.
The roads are pure theatre. Winding, dramatic, breathtaking. One minute you’re in the clouds, the next you’re staring at the Atlantic, wondering how this road was ever built, or why you agreed to be on it. You pass waterfalls cascading beside the road, disappear into tunnels carved straight through rock, and watch locals park on slopes that seem to ignore both gravity and common sense. It’s equal parts chaos and charm.
And here’s the part that still surprises me.
I’ve been here nearly ten years now, and I never get bored of driving these roads. The light is never the same twice. The sky shifts, the colours change, the island feels different every single day. What once terrified me is now something I genuinely love.
Driving here isn’t just about getting from A to B. It is the adventure. Every bend feels earned. Every viewpoint feels like a small reward. And somewhere along the way, the nerves give way to a strange sense of confidence, or at least acceptance.
Yes, your palms might sweat. You may question your decisions once or twice. But you’ll also find yourself pulling over far more often than planned, just to breathe it in, to stare, to remind yourself that this is real.
Because that’s Madeira. It doesn’t do gentle. It does wild beauty, dramatic roads, and moments that stay with you long after the engine’s switched off.
Kellie xoxo
P.S. Roundabouts here are wonderfully logical. The outside lane is for the first exit only. Once you know that, everything flows, traffic, tempers, and your chances of being silently judged.
