Madagascar : paradise in poverty
In the middle of my African backpacking adventures in the mid-90s, I decided to fly over to Madagascar for 3 months. This was an iffy proposition. I didn't know much about it, my French was rusty, and the place could have been a total dud. But it seemed too interesting to pass up. So I flew from Nairobi to Antananarivo to begin one of the most unique and memorable legs of my journey.
On the flight over, I sat next to a nice lady whose husband was a government scientist. They had a big house, so she invited me to stay with her family whenever I was in the capital. I accepted. She also happened to be friends with the American ambassador who was throwing a July 4th (Independence Day) party that very day, so she promised to get me over to the embassy for it. What a hoot! After arrival, we quickly dropped our bags at her house and the whole family joined me for the festivities at my embassy. A rare treat for me.
But Tana was dangerous, at least according to the family I stayed with. So they didn't let me out much. A bit awkward, and claustrophobic, so I left the capital to explore the country.
Antsirabe & Tsiribihina River
From Tana I went south to the pleasant little town of Antsirabe. I spent a few days there acclimatizing to Madagascar's Central Highlands. I met some young people my age, practiced French with them, went on excursions to nearby lakes, and danced in their discos. I also got into the Vietnamese food that was on offer: flamed bananas. Yum. Then I heard about a 4-day canoe trip from the nearby village of Miandrivazo west along the Tsiribihina River to the ocean. Sounded too good to pass up.
I joined a couple of female academics who were spending some downtime in Mad after their research stints in Mauritius. We organized a couple of guides to take us down the river. The trip was spectacular! As we glided down the shallow, wide river in a dugout canoe, we were surrounded by high cliffs where birds, monkeys, lemurs, and other animals flitted about. We cruised along through sandbanks, which stopped our progress quite often. We stopped at an incredible waterfall under which we showered. We met lovely people in a host of villages along the way. And, at night, we camped in the river on sandbanks, eating fresh fish and rice. Though my bum hurt like hell from sitting so long, I enjoyed soaking up the countryside.
Eventually we made it to the river mouth that empties out into the ocean. The river widened until it was indistinguishable from the sea. When we climbed out of the pirogue we were greeted by a gorgeous landscape of baobab trees, including the one pictured below, known as the "Avenue of the Baobabs." It's one of Madagascar's most famous sites. After threading through the baobabs, we found a lift on a nearby road which took us to Morondava, a tranquil beach town where I laid up for a week.
Tulear : edge of the world
From Morondava, I headed down to Tulear. Of course, there was no road going straight down the coast to link the two cities. That would have been too easy. So I had to go back to the interior and then to the coast again. At least an 800km detour, plus two more days bouncing around in crappy buses on heavily-rutted dirt tracks. A real joy.
But despite Mad's huge distances and horrible roads, I always met nice people to chat with along the way. While Celine Dion blared from the bus speakers ("The Power of Love" - hell yah!), we spoke our broken French together, it being a foreign language for us all.
Funny enough, locals seemed to love the fact that I couldn't speak "proper" French. It made them more comfortable around me. They became less self-conscious about their own poor language skills. And they relished being able to teach me a thing or two. They could have shied away from me as a "rich foreigner," but they seemed charmed that I kept mauling the language with my childish sentences. Really, there was nothing for me to do but laugh at myself along with them. [LESSON: locals rarely enjoy the company of smarty-pants foreigners, so I always found it was better to take a humble approach. Gotta know when to play the fool, or in my case, simply be the fool that I am.]
Anyway, spent a week in Tulear. A weird place. It's a windswept coastal town that feels like it's at the edge of the world. Very atmospheric in a Mad Max sort of way. Tumbleweeds blowing down the empty streets - that sort of thing. I'm pretty sure I was the only tourist there. The only other foreigners I saw were business-types hanging out with bar girls.
I ended up meeting a cool family who took me in for the week. We had met on the bus and they took pity on me. As it turned out, they had a daughter, Philea, who was my age. She made it her mission to show me the sites of the city. OK, to be honest, there wasn't much to see, but I did get to meet lots of friendly folks, eat lots of rubbery chicken with rice, and dance to lots of Phil Collins songs at the nightclub. ("You can feel it in the air tonight" seemed to be the club anthem.)
Toalanaro : perfect peninsula
I ended up meeting a wonderful family who took me in for the week. We had met on the bus and they took pity on me. As it turned out, they had a pretty daughter, Philea, who was my age. She made it her mission to show me the sites of the city. OK, to be honest, there wasn't much to see, but I did get to meet lots of nice folks, eat lots of rubbery chicken with rice, and dance to lots of Phil Collins songs at the nightclub.
I ended up meeting a wonderful family who took me in for the week. We had met on the bus and they took pity on me. As it turned out, they had a daughter, Philea, who was my age. She made it her mission to show me the sites of the city. OK, to be honest, there wasn't much to see, but I did get to meet lots of nice folks, eat lots of rubbery chicken with rice, and dance to lots of Phil Collins songs at the nightclub.
Mahajanga & Nosy Be
Antsiranana (Diego Suarez)
Antananarivo & Toamasina
