Achada da Cruz

One of the day trips we had planned was a visit to the Achada de Cruz Cable Car, located on the northwestern coast, which transports visitors 1,500 feet down the cliffs to one of Madeira’s Faja’s.

The cable car, costing just $3 Euro per person, claimed to have a vertical drop of 98 degrees, the steepest drop of any cable car in Europe and I thought it would be cool to give this a try.

Arriving at the viewpoint, everything about this cable car was low tech and we loved it. To buy a ticket, you had to go into the booth and ask the cable operator. While he was operating the controls, he took our cash and handed us our tickets. Then you waited in a short queue until there was less than six people waiting and boarded the next car – it only seats 6. The car had automatic doors and when one car started down, another from the bottom started up in order to reduce any turbulence during the descent being caused by crosswinds.

Prior to our trip, I walked over to the edge and took a few photos of the destination down below and a cable car during the initial descent, where the grade is virtually straight down until you reach Faja de Quebrada Nova.

A Fajã is a Portuguese term used to describe a small flat piece of land, generally cultivable and located by the sea, formed of rocks and other organic materials which have fallen from the cliffs, and are distinctive features of the Azores and Madeira.

On the short ride down, the cable car provides a spectacular panoramic view over the beautiful blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean and verdant greens cliffs on both sides of you.

Like all the cable cars on Madeira, the Achadas de Cruz was originally built to help the local farmers get to their land and bring back their harvested produce, but is now mostly used by tourists. Historically, the farmers walked down to their plots of land and today, that very same trail, the Vereda do Calhau, is considered a difficult hike.

From above, Fajã da Quebrada Nova looks like a tiny village, but nobody really lives there any longer. The Faja was once home to hundreds who tended to their livestock and agriculture on this fertile piece of land. Most of the small, traditional homes still there have been unoccupied for years.

After touching down, you get an immediate sense for the isolation of the place. Towering cliffs wrap around the small piece of land, providing three very protective walls. Of course, the land itself is open to the crashing waves of the ocean but seemingly, the land itself has enough altitude to protect it for storms.

There is a well built, meandering stone trail which runs for well over 1.5 kilometres along the shoreline and rocky beach and it’s easy to spend two hours here.

On our way back, we noticed a sign that pointed into the cluster of buildings and by following that trail, we were led through what at one time was a neighbourhood and which, at one point in history, produced it’s own wine. Unfortunately, the wine press doors were locked so all we really got to see was through a stone window six feet off the ground but wandering through the village was interesting.