Ronaldo's island: why travellers are flocking to this scenic Portuguese gem

So, how was the landing?" asks the smiling passport control officer. I'm not used to such cheerful welcomes at immigration and certainly not to questions like that. But we've just arrived at what's widely touted as one of the world's most exciting (or scariest) airports to land at. Backdropped by craggy green mountains, Madeira's runway is suspended on concrete pillars above the Atlantic Ocean and regularly buffeted by strong winds, testing the mettle and technical skills of pilots and threatening to send passengers' pulses sky-rocketing.

As it happens, our landing, like most, was calm and trouble-free, but others aren't so smooth (watch the videos on YouTube). Fittingly, this airport is named after one of the most thrilling and temperamental soccer players of all time, Cristiano Ronaldo, born 40 years ago on Madeira, the largest island of the subtropical Madeira archipelago. Formed from volcanic eruptions about 5 million years ago, it was first settled by 15th-century Portuguese seafarers and remains a self-governing region of Portugal - though, anchored 500 kilometres off Africa's north-west coast, it's actually closer to Casablanca than Lisbon.

Another popular entry point is the port of Funchal, Madeira's ocean-hugging capital, a half-hour drive west of the airport. Cruise ships call in year-round and outside the cruise terminal, travellers are greeted by an oversized statue of Ronaldo, plus a hotel and memorabilia-filled museum in his honour. Tour guides can lead you to the player's humble childhood haunts, hidden in Funchal's hillside districts, while Ronaldo's name and image graces shirts and souvenirs in gift stores around Madeira. We're told he still has friends and family here and visits fairly regularly, often by private jet.

Many holidaymakers hire a car and road trip around this Singapore-sized island, stopping for sundowners and sleeps in picturesque coastal villages and restored clifftop quintas (hotels on former estates of wealthy merchants who got rich from the island's wine industry and transatlantic trade). We base ourselves in Funchal, a vibrant yet relaxing and walkable city home to almost half of Madeira's 250,000 population and embellished with pastel-hued villas and churches, many funded by fortunes made from Portugal's one-time African and Latin American colonies.

The swankiest place to stay, have afternoon tea and relax by the pool is Reid's Palace above Funchal's harbour. It counts Winston Churchill, Roger Moore and Gregory Peck among past guests. Our budget doesn't stretch that far, but we're happy with our self-catering apartment on Rua de Santa Maria, a super-quaint lane in Funchal's rejuvenated Old Town, where reasonably-priced cafes and seafood restaurants spill out onto the cobbles. We enjoy dining at Gaviao Novo and Santa Maria, an acclaimed pair offering grilled, locally-caught specialities like lapas (limpets - similar to mussels) and espada (scabbard), an eel-like white fish typically served with rice, banana and passion fruit.

On your Old Town strolls, breezing by former fishermen's cottages, you'll see doorways decorated with murals highlighting Madeira's nautical heritage and natural splendour. The island is said to have 16 microclimates but is generally blessed with mild or warm weather all year, rarely reaching 30 degrees even in high summer. We've come in late February, when northern Europe is still in a wintry vice, but daytime temperatures here are pushing 20 degrees with plenty of sunshine and occasional showers.

Conditions are ripe for Madeira's luxuriant gardens, where native plants flourish alongside species from across the globe. Australian ferns and palms soar by Brazilian, Siberian and Madagascan trees and shrubs at the Madeira Botanical Garden, from whose ornamental floral terraces we savour glorious views towards the Atlantic over Funchal's terracotta rooftops. A little higher - 550 metres above ocean level - are the magnificent, multi-tiered gardens of Monte Palace, where we find exotic flora and flamingo-dotted ponds hedged by contemporary African sculptures and ornate Portuguese azulejos (glazed tiles).

A slick cable car links Funchal's waterfront with Monte, but some visitors descend - part of the way at least - on toboggans. Hand-made from wicker and wood, these sledges were created in the 19th century to transport Monte villagers to Funchal. Now they're a magnet for tourists, who are pushed downhill by straw-hatted drivers called carreiros. They use the thick rubber souls of their boots as brakes to control the sledges during the ride from Monte's baroque church to the suburb of Livramento, from which taxis venture back to central Funchal.

These outings whet our appetites for exploring Madeira's rugged interior, which is knitted with hiking trails (Funchal-based tour operators offer transfers to and from several sign-posted routes). Some paths ascend mountains like Pico do Areeiro, which spears more than 1800 metres high. Others weave through Madeira's misty UNESCO-protected laurel forests or past precipitous gorges, thunderous waterfalls and the island's man-made network of levadas. First built in the 1400s, and expanded over the centuries, these irrigation channels now course more than 2500 kilometres, fuelling Madeira's hydroelectric power and ferrying rainfall from the island's damper north to the drier south, where terraced slopes are laced with vines, tropical fruits, sugarcane and more gorgeous hiking trails.

Back at Cristiano Ronaldo International Airport, awaiting our flight home, we're faced with another friendly soul at passport control. Like so many Madeirans we've met this week, he speaks excellent English. "Did you have a nice holiday?" the officer asks. We did. Like its most famous son, Madeira scores highly in multiple ways.

The writer travelled at his own expense