Twenty seconds of The Far West, written for this very spot. On the tour it plays by itself as you arrive.
This is the westernmost point of Madeira, and it feels like it. A lighthouse stands on a cliff nearly 300 metres above the sea (one of the highest lighthouses in Portugal measured from the water), and around it the land just runs out. Green meadows roll to the edge, cows graze right at the lip of the drop as if the precipice were nothing, and beyond the cliff there is nothing at all: open Atlantic, all the way to America.
They call it Pargo after a giant fish, a sea bream, supposedly caught here back in Zarco's day. It's the kind of half-legend that sticks to every corner of this island. The little viewpoint has a shelter and a path to the edge; walk out, and on one side you'll see the wild north coast curling away, on the other the sunnier south you probably drove up from.
And then there's the reason most people in the know come here: the sunset. With no competition for the title, this is the best place on Madeira to watch the sun drop into the ocean. The whole sky goes copper, the lighthouse starts its sweep, and for a few minutes you're standing at the quiet end of the world.
Local tip: time your whole west day to end here at sunset. Bring a layer; the wind picks up the moment the sun's down. Cows have right of way on the approach road, genuinely.
