Category: Madagascar 2018

Many of the best decisions I’ve ever made have been spontaneous.

I was actually researching a trip to South Africa (watch this space!) when I decided to go to Madagascar. I was on Google Maps (other online map services are available) when I saw a large land mass to the east. I dragged the map over and Madagascar presented itself in all its glory.

I decided right then and there that I wanted Madagascar to be my next adventure and asked Rudy very excitedly that night whether he’d like to go. The decision was made in less than a minute.

In my mind, Madagascar was all about lush, green rainforests swarming with wildlife. Mostly lemurs. I was half right – whilst vast swathes of the island are, in fact, dusty and dry (partly because it was the end of the dry season), the wildlife encounters were like nothing else on earth (literally).

The things I’ll miss most about Madagascar are:

• The lemurs: I could have watched them for hours
• Zebu: mostly their meat which was consistently good, but also their presence passively overseeing the smooth-running of Mada
• Colour: everywhere was vibrant and colourful, lifting the atmosphere
• Strangers: who were mostly very welcoming

Things I won’t miss about Madagascar are:

• Mosquitoes: nuff said
• Undrinkable tap water: this obviously isn’t unique to Mada by any means, but I always return home and are grateful for our high-quality water supply every time I turn on the tap for the next few weeks
• Mosquitoes: did I mention these?
• The expense: I was, maybe naively, expecting Africa to be reasonably cheap compared to Europe, but despite not being very touristy they’ve worked out what we’d pay in Europe and charged just slightly less – a cheap trip it was not
• Mosquitoes

Wherever we went, the locals were friendly, the food was good and the wildlife was abundant. Lemurs were my main reason for visiting, and they did not disappoint. But the other wildlife was amazing, too. Lemurs, reptiles, fossa, birds, plants and trees – I’ve been privileged to see them all in the their natural environment.

Madagascar, you were incredible.

I’m not proud. Three ladies were getting up from the table, leaving hot drinks and a large muffin almost untouched. Bingo. I swooped. I wanted to write that I delicately replaced them at the table, but swooped is a more honest assessment of the situation.

I was at Nairobi airport. It was 7:15am (local time, which is the same as Madagascar). I’d been up since 1:45am and I was hungry. English breakfast (or an approximate equivalent) was on offer… for a mere $20. The Chinese soup looked like better value at $5… until I saw the size of the bowl. A latte it would have to be… until the kind ladies donated me their breakfast 🙂

Eighteen hours after leaving the hotel in Ivato, I was walking through my front door.

One falafel wrap later, I was in bed and fast asleep, dreaming of lemurs, chameleons and baobab trees 🙂

Roads

Main roads out of Tana are in good condition – the ones east, west and south(-west) anyway. But as soon as you’re off the main road, you need a 4×4. And local people are paid by the government to repair the roads, which could explain the good condition. It’s a scheme that appears to be working for all parties.

Lateral thinking

Lateral thinking is not Madagascar’s strong point. For instance, on the way out of Kirindy, the workers repairing the road were clearly desperate for water. But nobody at the lodge had mentioned this, else we could have filled our numerous empty bottles for them. I asked Alain to let his next tourists know that water would be welcome on the return journey – the thought clearly hadn’t ever occurred to him!

As an aside, I did ask why they just didn’t bring more water. He hesitated and then explained that they couldn’t carry much. It was only afterwards that I realised that it’s also because they don’t have any empty bottles.

Another example was at the restaurant we stopped at on the way back from Kirindy. We told the waitress that we would have a swim before lunch. But when we went to order at 2:10pm, we were told that lunch had finished at 2pm. Despite there being only two parties (including us) in the restaurant, it hadn’t occurred to anyone to tell us! Nor did they mention it at the start. *sigh*

Beds

These have been almost universally uncomfortable, but in a variety of ways. There’s the “big dipper” with a massive dip in the middle, meaning you end up in a banana shape. Or they’re very hard. Or so old you can feel the slats through the mattress. But it’s difficult to complain with any real feeling – I bet the ones the local use are much worse, and they don’t have a nice, soft bed to look forward to at home.

Crime

RN2 (to the east) is safe because it’s used all the time, being the only route between the main port and the capital city. More traffic means more safety. So whilst night travel is highly discouraged, it’s also a potential solution to the banditry problem.

Tana was officially closed. Even the beggars were taking a day off. A few cafes and shops were open, but mostly the place was quiet and empty. It made a nice change, but also meant that there wasn’t much to do. So we spent my last day in Madagascar chilling out, starting on our balcony overlooking the city:

Followed by a walk to the park to sit under the beautiful Jacaranda trees – so great that we’re here in October when they’re in full bloom.

And they cry – as I stood waiting for Rudy, there was a slow but steady drip.

A detour back to the hotel unexpectedly revealed a nice view of the lake, complete with statue and the city sprawling into the distance:

Smoke started coming in from behind us. We were sat in the back of the taxi as the front passenger seat was rocking, throwing me back every time the driver braked. MOT-worthy this car was not. “Pas problem” (“no problem”) the driver kept saying as we tried to alert him to the smoke, and he pushed our window down further to disperse the fumes. He explained that there was a hole in the exhaust pipe. Given the state of the rest of the car, this did not come as much of a surprise.

After agreeing a price, (the taxis here don’t have meters so it’s important to settle on a price for the journey before you start), we walked to his car. It had clearly seen better days. Mind you, most things had seen better days than this tin can. Virtually nothing worked – the dashboard was long since dead, the windows didn’t even have handles to wind them down and the inside door release had departed some time ago.

Immediately after setting off, he pulled into a petrol station. That’s another thing – they only buy the fuel once they’ve got a ride. It was at this point that he asked us for money to buy the petrol. Rudy was having none of it. I figured we’d just advance him some of the fare, but Rudy explained that they’ll still request the original fare once you arrive, and if you’re in a place with lots of their cronies, it’s difficult and potentially dangerous to put up a fight.

Our hotel was down a long, narrow alleyway and I didn’t relish the return journey at 2am the next morning. But inside, it was a nice place and, after a quick trip to check out the airport, I settled in for my last zebu dinner in a don’t-know-how-long.

To bed for my last half-night in Madagascar.

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Random stuff from today:

These type of sweets (see top left) were banned in England a long time ago – cigarette biscuit, anyone?:

Morning wake up call from the indri – I could get used to this – and a relaxed morning in the restaurant and bungalow just enjoying being in the rainforest. The second shift of indri calls was ruined by a screaming child, but the third was enjoyed unadulterated.

I said goodbye to our lovely bungalow reluctantly – I’d really enjoyed being here, and if I’d been travelling for longer I would have stayed a few more days. But I had to get back to Tana, so off we set… into the traffic jam. Despite being Saturday, dozens of lorries were making the journey from the port to Tana, crawling up the hills and round the tight bends. Most drivers are very good (for instance, the lorry driver will signal to the cars behind whether the road ahead is clear to overtake) but it was a diesel overdose in the middle of the beautiful hills of the rainforest.

Arriving back at our original hotel in Tana was a little surreal. It reminded me of a piano piece by Rachmaninoff where the original, haunting theme returns at the end. My teacher explained that although it was the same music, it was different – the first time it was new, but the second time was affected by all that came before it so it had a markedly different quality. Just like coming back to the same place at the end of my trip – it was still the same hotel, same staff and good food, but now it came imbued with all my experiences and memories since I’d been there last.

After dinner (I’m stocking up on zebu for the fast that is coming), an almost-bald middle-aged man and an older lady arrived at the communal table. “Andrea” is an Italian doctor who set up his own company seven years ago providing online ENT consultations. He was due to fly out tonight, is trying to visit all the countries in the world and has an enormous ego. Andrea only wanted to talk about himself, at one point even talking over the other two when I’d given him my attention for a split second. At one point, after taking a phone call, we interrupted our conversation with the line: “By the way, that funny language was Vietnamese”. He speaks 16 languages. Apparently.

In contrast, Ibolya was quiet, interesting and polite.  And she does, indeed, speak many languages (at least six came up naturally during the course of our conversation). A Hungarian social worker living in The Netherlands, she had a burnout a couple of years ago and now travels more. Unfortunately, she’d also gone to the “Lemur Park” where honey had been put on her face and she’d enjoyed the captive lemurs licking it off. It took some discrete and gentle suggestion that lemurs were better in the wild (which, interestingly, she totally agreed with – it’s funny how people mentally compartmentalise to justify and feel comfortable with their values and actions).

To bed early, slowly falling asleep to the sounds of a spectacular thunderstorm outside.

Loud wailing filled the air. Very loud wailing. Indri were calling, checking the position of each other and signalling their territory to rival groups. The male in the tree above me had been grazing on the immature leaves with his partner and their baby when the call came through. He opened his mouth and responded with a loud wail.

Calls were very consistent, starting high and repeating the pattern twice, on lower notes (always the same). Occasionally interspersed with a high-pitched wail on a descending pattern (I don’t know if this was perhaps the female call):

Indri are the largest living lemur species, weighing between 7 and 10kgs. Feeding on immature leaves, they’ve also been seen eating soil – researchers believe it’s because the earth provides additional nutrients they need. Their wail is what makes the so distinct from the other lemurs. And it can travel up to 2km, alerting other lemurs to their presence.

Like most lemurs, indri live in family groups and mate for life. Females are dominant, deciding the route the group will take through the forest with the male taking a protective role.

A variety of species coexist happily within the rainforest. For instance, the indri feeds on immature leaves at about 13m above ground level, and brown lemurs on fruit at 11m high. Some animals are diurnal (active during the day) and others nocturnal (active during the night). The brown lemur is the only species that is active both day and night, alternating between feeding and resting.

And some action shots:

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“Wake up, wake up… lemurs!”

A family of brown lemurs was foraging in the tree outside our balcony. A mother with a baby and her male:

Amazing to watch them so close – I felt very privileged.

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Floor didn’t seem very enthusiastic. Our “guide” was excellent at spotting the animals (which, to be fair, is the important bit), but her lack of enthusiasm was palpable and getting information about what we were seeing proved very hard work. She didn’t provide us with much information or point out interesting things around the rainforest. And I’m sure there were plenty. She’d be a guide since 2000. Maybe she’d lost interest. It was a real shame.

During the night walk, we added another brown lemur, two fat-tailed dwarf lemurs and a mouse lemur (colour unknown) to our collection. No photos as it was too dark, but amazing to see them in the wild – I never get bored of watching them.

A wonderfully lemur-filled day 🙂

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Other random stuff from today:

A green gecko:

Giant fern:

Dazzling green bottle fly:

An elephant-ear chameleon (bet you can’t guess why it’s called that!):

And a white frog (that Floor did identify, but I didn’t understand what she said and she was obviously not interested in explaining):

A very satisfying day, that could have been even better with a decent guide.

Water streamed through the roof and into the light fittings. If you’ve ever experienced a tropical thunderstorm you’ll know that it’s not just rain, it’s like someone’s tipped over a bucket – an unrelenting, intense torrent of water. Oh, and hailstones. Large hailstones. Weird thing was that it seemed to take the staff by surprise as much as it did us. This was clearly not a normal storm. To their credit, the staff not only dealt with the invasion, but also managed to serve our food.

Half an hour earlier we’d been planning our night walk. But this was definitely not night walk weather. Operation postponed until tomorrow.

We’d left Tana that morning with our new driver, Beo, for the journey to the east. The road was well-surfaced, but busy with lorries coming from Tana to Tamatave, Madagascar’s main port. It culminated in a massive lorry-filled traffic jam through a small, dusty village – very in congruous.

Approaching rainforest territory, the landscape became lush and green – much more like what I was expecting the majority of Madagascar to be (although this is almost entirely based on the fictional film):

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“But why? Why do you keep the animals in cages?”

The man stared back at me like I’d just asked him to explain the meaning of the universe. He shook his head and his startled expression gave away that he was not expecting this at all.

“Do you do research?”

Blank, quizzical look.

“I mean, do you study the animals?”

“No.” He was clearly in new territory here.

We’d stopped at the reptile “reserve”. It wasn’t a reserve. The conversation clearly signalled that this was a private enterprise where they’d captured wild animals and were keeping them in cages so I could gawp and have my picture taken with them. Not acceptable.

I told Rudy that I was really uncomfortable and, whilst he was free to do as he wished, I would not be going into the “reserve”, paying for the capture of wild animals. I believe in the power of one. He understood and respected my decision. And made the same choice. We thanked the staff and walked back to the car. “Do you understand?” I asked Beo. “Yes, and the other tourists were having the same conversation with their guide.” Slowly, hopefully tourists can save these creatures. One by one by one.

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The indri sitting in the tree on the hillside opposite our bungalow was a wonderful welcome to Andasibe National Park:

Indri are the largest species of lemur and the main reason for our visit. Their Malagsy name is “Babakoto” and their scientific name is “indri indri” – so quite difficult to choose as both sound pretty awesome! And they look very like teddy bears.

Really looking forward to meeting them properly tomorrow.

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Our bungalow was the furthest possible point from the restaurant and reception, so we paid a little more to move down to bungalow with it’s own balcony overlooking the river. It was to prove a fortuitous decision – as the storm took hold we quietly congratulated ourselves on the relatively short walk back to our beds.

Another travel day. It’s impossible to avoid them in a country this vast, but it’s all part of the adventure and we were actually kind of looking forward to the 12-hour drive – it’s a much more rewarding and satisfying way to see a country than jump on a plane. It’s all about how you think about it.

Bags were loaded on top of the van (hard cases on the outside to anchor the protective sheet on top).

A quick breakfast stop. I have to admit that whilst lunches and dinners have been delicious, Malagsy breakfasts don’t have much to recommend them as they mostly consist of fried stuff (the best of which is banana – I can leave the rice, bread and flour creations – but it’s all very heavy in the stomach).

Oh, and you remember I said that each “region” has its own speciality? Well, this one had stalls lining the road selling massive catholic statues:

Baobabs gave way to rice fields as we made out way back to Tana. One hour of the 12-hour (700km) journey was spent getting into the centre of Tana, and back out to the bus station. We arrived at our hotel at 7:50pm, almost 15 hours after we’d left our hotel this morning.

Jimmy was waiting for us! With Beo (pronounced “Bee-oh”, like the individual letters that in English stand for “body odour”), who would be our driver to Andasibe.

Our original hotel being full, we’d booked into another. The shower was, shall we say, of an alternative design that I hadn’t seen before (and hoped not to see again!).

“Dormitory” beds were in one large area (and none of them had lockable doors) – glad we booked a private room.

But it had a nice vibe, and they’d tried hard to make the place welcoming.

Breakfast started with the baobab fruit we bought at the avenue – a marshmallow-like consistency with a sweet, almost fizzy taste (although that might have been because it off!):

Morondava is another place I’d have lingered if it wasn’t for the pre-agreed itinerary and tight schedule. But I had to keep moving.

A rickshaw to our next hotel, moments away from the bus “station” due to our 5am departure tomorrow:

Where it was good to see their awareness of how their facilities may be abused and how to report it:

 

For lunch we found a local cafe overlooking the sea and offering delicious shrimp in sauce with rice for just over £2. Result 🙂

An after-lunch wander round the market:

 

… where you could buy pretty much anything. Solar panel anyone?

The trip was curtailed due to the extreme heat and the lethargy it induced.

After a look in the other direction from our hotel:

… we went back to the same cafe for dinner (when you’ve struck lucky, why keep looking?) and got talking to the man at the next table. He works for the government’s agriculture department visiting rice farmer to persuade them to grow particular crops. He admitted that it has little effect as they grow what they want anyway, almost certainly dictated by economics, rather than government policy.

A beautiful sunset:

Along with locals, including a group doing an informal photo shoot and someone working out with rocks (very resourceful):

A sweltering night because the electricity got switched off at 10:30pm… but they didn’t tell us and when the fan stops working, the mozzies come to feast 🙁

Avenue of the Baobabs was so good we did it all again at sunrise. A totally different but equally magical experience – and it’s interesting to see the difference in the quality of light:

And back for a leisurely breakfast, watching the fishing boats come in… with no karaoke in sight 🙂

An afternoon stroll to the beach saw us take in a local football match:

It was notable for three main reasons: it was 14-a-side on a pitch half the normal size, there was virtually no fouling and everyone played bare-footed.

Pitch-side, women watched the match and fishermen tended to their boats:

And Rudy’s camera (and mine, for that matter) once again brought out the performers:

Souvenir stalls lined the street leading to the beach. Each was selling almost exactly the same thing… small ornaments carved out of wood that can’t be taken out of the country without a permit, decorated turtle shells (*sob*) and shark jaws:

Madagascar needs a serious re-think of its tourist offering 🙁