Nuns Valley Madeira

 More spectacular views as we visited Curral das Freiras ('Nuns Valley') A small parish nestling between almost perpendicular mountains in the heart of the island. We stopped at the viewpoint at  Eira do Serrado and Paredão to look down on the valley way below.

In 1566 the nuns from the Santa Clara convent fled from pirates attacking Funchal and found safety here. They also lugged with them the treasure from the convent ensuring the pirates left virtually empty handed. The area is famous for it's chestnuts and seem to be used in all sorts of cooking.  I believe they also have a yearly festival dedicated to the chestnut.

We almost didn't make the trip as our mini bus didn't turn up. We only got on this trip after sitting through the most tedious and boring 3 hour time share presentation (never ,ever again). So there was no way this was not going to happen.  We marched back up to to the office and demanded action. Thankfully common sense occurred and a taxi was ordered to catch us up with the errant mini bus.

On arrival in the Nuns Valley we were ushered into one of the local cafes. Part of the deal or ordeal as it was turning out was to have coffee and cake. Naturally it was a slice of chestnut cake and very nice too . Could well have been walnut, hazelnut or peanut really. Then a waiter started bringing out some gharishly coloured liqueurs for us to dry.
The first was bright green and was some sort of menthol flavour? Tasted just like the stuff the dentist gives you to gargle with but not so nice. The second , surprise surprise was a chestnut liqueur that looked and tasted like cold Horlicks. The third was a little better and made from the Ginja berry. It is like a sour cherry and compared to the previous two was almost palatable.
The problem came when we got up to leave and were expected to make a purchase. I politely declined and hastily exited stage left not for the first time.

 I found the small Parish a strange place really and in truth not really wort the visit. I thought that I was doing my good citizen bit when I heard banging coming from a padlocked garage door. The garage door was attached to a large white building. I had just read a Peter James novel involving a hostage who had been left locked away and immediately my mind was racing. I tried to communicate with who or whatever was banging on the door to no avail. What could it be , someone trussed up until the ransom money was paid? Still the banging kept happening with no answers to my 'Hello , is everything alright' ?... I decided to fetch assistance in the form of two non English speaking locals who seemed bemused , more with me than the contents of the garage really if i'm honest. Another local appeared after a hasty phone call, he was armed with some bolt cutters. I was starting to worry a little now just what we might find lurking behind the door. I decided to retreat to a safe distance at this point. 

The Church at Curral das Freiras

As soon as the shackles were lifted and the door opened an elderly lady exited at a rate of knots  nearly knocking the men over. She disappeared up some steps and out of sight without so much as thank you. It was only later back on the bus I found out from our guide that the building with the garage was the local asylum ......

Scene of my 'rescue'