Autumn dominates the landscape with its golden tones and green dry blankets, in the heavens the common buzzard give us a welcome, in between we listen to the whispers of the river that can be seen at the bottom of the ravine . Throughout the levada we found several of the famous drilled , caves penetrating the basaltic mountain and we are toasted by wild ripened chestnut fallen on the ground . The memories of my childhood gain colors when I gather these generous fruits front floor and return an old habit, peel them and eat them raw. But not only are the urchins who stand on our tour , fallen tree trunks that storms rip apart cover part of this journey of water, which over the centuries has led to life to the small farmers' crops of Madeira . In the past, this whole landscape intersected by man's hand was covered with various shades, each denounced the fruits and vegetables grown, now, the brambles and weeds cover this whole history dug on the ground. The barns, small compartments, where they kept the animals and the fruits of daily toil, are doomed to abandonment, but it matters little, nature once again usurped their territory, everything is covered in a thriving green, cut by the gray skeletons of trees that remained of the last fire that almost mortally wounded landscape of Gaula. Life, however, is reborn. And the landscape begins to humanize the approach the end, at Camacha, where we can see homes and people that shamelessly invade the route. The path continues to Monte, but for today, it ends in the Madeiran capital of popular culture. Until the next walk.