MADEIRA – Portuguese for wood – is an appropriate name for a profoundly forested island; but, more than that, it is not a huge leap to get from wood to lumber, and its alternative definition: to move in a slow, heavy, awkward way. That suited our journey perfectly. We had been moving slowly, heavily and awkwardly for days now.
Ryan, my 19-year-old son, fancied a physical challenge. Josh, his older brother (25), was curious – and the old man seemed welcome too. A rushed exchange quickly settled on Madeira, but I knew Madeiran mapping to be short on detail. Research into long distance trails uncovered the Madeira Island Ultra Trail (MIUT), as well as a GPX download to help keep us on track over its 115km and 7100m of ascent. I also learnt that true wild camping isn’t allowed, and news of fines and rangers to enforce them led me to look at alternatives. I tried the ‘wild camping’ sites permit system, but attempting to calculate our pace over demanding terrain in advance proved impossible, and using this free service impractical. We hoped to evade local bureaucracy by bivouacking – pitching
