Madeira - O Segundo Dia

We are testing the limits of technology. First, by grinding through the heights and depths of the south coast of Madeira in a Fiat 500. We’ll even make it the diesel. Manual. How much landscape can you cover? Second, we’ll test the ‘ultra-wide’ lens of the iPhone 11. Today is all about “miradouros”: prospects and promontories, lighting effects and framing views. How much landscape can you cover?

We upgraded from the iPhone 6s last year for several reasons, but one of them (for me) is that the ‘Pano’ function basically required other tourists staying out of frame while I swiveled the camera across my field of view. The iPhone 11 adds an ‘ultra wide’ (f/2.4, 0.5x zoom) to the ‘regular’ camera (f/1.8), and is able take these comprehensive shots in one go. But it also adds some distortion when looking up or down - the ’key-stoning’ is hard to avoid with tall or wide structures. The closer your subject, the greater the distortion, but today that should not be an issue. Today is an ultra-wide kind of day.

Our first stop is Câmara de Lobos, just west of Funchal. This small city features a kind of sea-side butte, quite striking, called the Ilheu de Câmara de Lobos. At the foot of this ‘island’ is the Igreja Matriz de São Sebastião, with its elegant “campanário” breaking above the roof tiles. The aspect ratio of the ‘ultra-wide’ image stays the same four-by-three, so capturing a wide landscape is a framing challenge. Sometime you can have ‘too much’ foreground. The regular lens gives me the Ilheu and the Igreja, but I can’t add the steeps slopes at east and west. The ‘ultra-wide’ give me one side, but not both, and adds more roof tile than might be desirable. The ‘Pano’ gives me both, but it is very strange to see the street nearly folded in two (the road is arrow strait, and quite steep). I suppose the ‘Pano’ tool wins this one, but again, seeing that benefit also requires the viewer ‘un-Pano’ by zooming and scrolling.

Next stop is Cabo Girão. It’s a cliff-top balcony made of steel grating and, in the center section, of glass. I am trying to show the cliff: the ‘regular’ camera in portrait, the ‘ultra-wide’ in landscape, and a ‘Pano’. Here, the ‘ultra-wide’ shot really make things feel ‘big’; the railing in the foreground is still the price you pay - it gives context but is also distracting. However, the ‘Pano’ grabs the railing, too, without adding much else. I appreciate the ‘ultra-wide’ lens’ adding some drama in the clouds, seeing the shrubby hills and additional Atlantic Ocean seems to make a better shot. It has more mass, more remoteness. I should add that the regular portrait shot does nicely emphasize the vertical. Point to ‘ultra-wide’, so it’s tied 1-1.

Speaking of best uses of technology, I wonder about that glass balcony. I’m sure it does its job of attracting tourists, but it doesn’t work as a visual enhancement - you really can’t see through it (the dirt, the dots, the reflections). Better to look over the edge so you can guage the colors, textures, and distance. Look at the colors in the water. The glass is only good for the vertigo.

 

Pico dos Barcelos is a “miradouro” in Santo António, inland from Funchal. Similar to the Fortelza de São João Baptista do Pico, there is a “parque infantil” just below the Pico, so another foreground issue, but this time for ‘Pano’. I am trying to add the hills and the church to the right, but you hardly notice those to all the stuff added by the playground. The kids sure to get a great view, though. ‘Ultra-wide’ wins this round, too.

Now we head for a stop along the north coast, to Porto da Cruz, which features another curious formation called the Penha da Águia. Again, the ‘Pano’ suffers from folded-foreground syndrome, without adding a whole lot except a sense of distance. I will add that the ‘regular’ lens misses the desirable foreground and, if you capture the little beach, cuts off the mountain rolling up to the left. The ‘ultra-wide’ also incorporates those clouds - love those clouds.

Our last stop is the “miradouro” over the east-facing bay at Machico. Here, again I’ll show the ‘regular’ picture just to show what the camera misses. The ‘regular’ takes the looming headland as it meets the bay, and the group of decreasingly thin jetties that dissolve into the sea, but misses the shore of the bay. The ‘ultra-wide’ adds the shore as well as the city, the mountains, and a bit of the railing. The ‘Pano’ adds a bunch of features from the “miradouro”, but doesn’t add too much to the view, except to connect the thinning jetties with the islands in the distance. Also, it is nice to see the sun and the horizon, even if you must add a trash can. It’s almost a toss-up, but I got to give it to the ‘ultra-wide’. Of course, the day is set up for this outcome - cover a lot of ground and see as much of Madeira as possible.

Covering ground is also the mission of the little Fiat. Three adults travel over 100 kilometers, maybe sixty-something miles, between breakfast and dinner (rest at lunch), and just a bit or rain. I’ll say the Fiat is a trooper, but it does not inspire confidence. Climbing in and out of the two-door hatch at the stops is a chore. The seats don’t seem to remember where they started, and everything needs to be reset each time. The island is a collection of steep climbs and drops, switchbacks, and quite a few tunnels. The little engine complains mightily on the climbs; the brakes respond by squealing on the drops. There is a touch of ‘roller-coaster’ anxiety involved. The bright-dark of the tunnels, adds to the carnival feel. The Fiat is enthusiastic and whiny, but it makes it through the ride. Though I am not driving, I see downshifts on smooth freeways - uphill, yes, but seemingly older and lesser cars easily pass us. It does a great job with the parking, though. I’ll conclude with: the Fiat may be just enough car for us and this island, just enough.

There is a moment during lunch, as we are in a enjoyable restaurant with a sweeping view of the valley (the first image is from lunch). I am staring at the shadows of the clouds as they drift over the small buildings. José Miguel wonders what fascinates me. I tell him that as a boy, I would mow the lawn, and after,  lay on the freshly shorn grass. As I watched the clouds wander past, directly overhead, I could feel the Earth behind me, like an insect being pushed by a truck in low gear, flowing through space-time. These views are the same. I feel like I’m riding this island afloat on the water. Barely perceptible, but when things are quiet, I feel the globe’s spinning.