Madagascar
A Golden Shower….The Starbucks
Tour of Madagascar….Blown off course onto the Bolivian Altiplano …Whale calls in
the forest….Party leaves 400 dead ….Introducing the condom index
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see the full size picture
Our trip to Madagascar
(October-November 1999)
We flew Air Madagascar from
Johannesburg to Antananarivo (Tana) enjoying French wine and beer, British gin,
Dutch tonic and South African food on the plane. The bike ride into Tana was
through rice paddies similar to those around Katmandu, the city road surfaces
were as poor as those in the Congo, the traffic pollution like Bangkok or
/Bratislava and we ended the day with a fantastic meal at an Indonesian
restaurant. Globalization may not have arrived in Madagascar yet, but our
arrival day sure felt International.
Over 2 days we sent south 340
kilometres via taxi-brousse (bush taxi) which are often Peugot 404 or 505's in
varying stages of decay full of passengers in varying states of discomfort. Our
mountain bikes were roped on the roof racks (pas de
probleme).
Our first challenge was 25
kilometres of 'categoire I' road which turned out to be rocky, hilly, dusty and
bloody hot. Travelling at an average speed of 9 kph, we wondered 'why are we
here?' and 'why are on bicycles?'. Then suddenly, tarmac, rainforest and a
fantastic river valley appeared and all pain was forgotten and then we arrived
at Ranomafana National Park and its lovely campsite.
Sheila was showered with gifts on
her birthday including a present from the park warden and with numerous lemur
encounters. While standing below a Golden Bamboo lemur (a species only
discovered in 1986), Glen remarked 'If he decides to pee, we're going to get
wet". It happened. Instead of a cake and candles, we smeared banana on trees at
a feeding-station and were joined by the star attraction of Ranomafana; the
energetic, nocturnal mouse lemurs (weighing in at 45 grams). Oh yes, the giraffe
weevil joined in the birthday festivities too.
At Ranomafana we met a group of
Americans (Jerry, Pam, Blair and Jennifer) who had just completed a rainforest
hike in North-East Madagascar and they kindly gave us their surplus food
supplies. We left the park with panniers bursting with among other goodies,
Gator-ade and Starbucks coffee. With Madagascar awash with bananas and scoring
high on the banana index, it was fitting that we also left with banana flavoured
Jello pudding and dehydrated bananas!
We pedaled down and up a further
150 kilometres to the coast on a deteriorated paved road with negligible traffic
through mixed bush and farmland (rice paddies, bananas and some coffee). The
people are incredibly poor; everyone is barefoot, mostly in rags. The constant
smiles and greetings made us feel like the King and Queen of
England.
Mananjary has a great beach if
you don't mind the sharks or the undertow, so we just ate fish instead. Back up
in the highlands (8 hour taxi-brousse ride) at Fianaratsoa, many of the
televisions are cabled into a satellite dish owned by the mayor. He is the local
media mogul with his channel surfing remote; whatever he selects is what
everyone else watches.
From Fianar, it was back on the
saddle through a curious mixture of rice paddies and vineyard to Ambalavao,
followed by 2 days of scenic riding through more incredibly poor villages and
granite mountains to Ihosy. After a big climb powered by Starbucks coffee up
onto the Morombe plateau, we picked up a terrific tailwind and thought we had it
'made in the shade'. There is by the way no shade in Southern Madagascar. Alas,
we hit 40 kilometres of rutted, sometimes corrugated dirt/sandy road. It was
surreal: blown along a bad road across a grassy plain dotted with thousands of
termite mounds with mountains in the far off distance. It felt like the Bolivian
altiplano and we fully expected Indian ladies to pop up wearing bowler
hats.
At Isalo National Park, it was
more lemurs, lush canyons and great walking amidst the sandstone range. We
accepted the generosity of Eric and Alexandra (Lyon, France) and accompanied
them to the west coast in their 4WD vehicle. We deprived ourselves of up and
down cycling in the blistering heat with water hard to find. Perhaps it was
nostalgia or yearning for those days with 'Magnum', the Mazda 4WD, or perhaps it
was the flu that knocked Sheila on her back, but it was a sign that we are
getting soft.
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see the full size picture
A few days on the western shores
of Madagascar at Ifaty beach (very good French seafood), an unsuccessful 5 hour
attempt to fly to Morondava (space for us but not for our bikes) and we began
the grueling return back to Tana. In another nostalgic twist, we took a Tata bus
(made in India) for 10 agonizing hours on the first leg. Twin seats are built
into the bus aisles requiring a Rubic-cube like precision to loading the
passengers and is always the case in Madagascar, 4 people sit where 3 would be a
very tight fit. Strangely, bus staff handed out free cokes to all passengers
mid-way through the journey while our bikes rode on top with the chickens.
A dizzy taxi-brousse ride, the
constant hounding of 'pousse-pousse' drivers (hand drawn rickshaws) In
Antsirabe, then we cycled onto Tana. Enroute we were greeted by hundreds of
hysterical children who judging by the frenzy must have mistaken us for the
Spice Girls.
In Tana, we were no longer chased
by armies of adoring fans but we did face a brigade of mozzies in our hotel
room. As we were without a mosquito net, we smeared on insect repellent and
lighted two 'Big Tox' mosquito coils almost asphyxiating ourselves. On our ride
to the eastern edge of Tana, the traffic pollution was probably equal to
lighting a whole boxful of 'Big Tox' coils in a hotel room. We took a bus 40
kilometres east of the city and purchased an extra ticket enabling us to sit
sideways (our legs are apparently longer than the Malagasy
standard).
We rode down to the rainforest of
Périnet and met up with Esther and Howard (cyclists from Birmingham, England).
We all chased Indri, large teddy-bear like lemurs and their peculiar cry, a
cross between a whale call, an oboe and the high pitch sound of air escaping
from a balloon. The chameleons were spectacular, as were the dwarf lemurs that
put on a performance in front of our bungalow one
evening.
Just up the road at Matahadia
National Park we stayed 2 nights at a 'top ten' campsite. It was amidst an
archetypal rainforest with plenty of frogs at the base of a jungle waterfall and
beneath an 8 metre tall tree fern. A red nocturnal snake worked in tandem with a
mouse, creating a diversion to allow the mouse a chance to grab some of our
food. Indri lemurs provided our morning wake-up call so that we wouldn't miss
our sightings of Sifaka lemur during the day.
We stayed at the cockroach hotel
enroute to the coast. A sandy track led us to Ambila-Lemaitso so that we could
swim in the Pangelin Canal, listen to semi-tame lemurs tap dancing on our
bungalow roof and chow down some superb seafood at 'Les
Alyzés'.
At the Ivoloina lemur
'rehabilitation centre', we watched some over anxious Black & White Ruffed
lemurs in the kitchen digging through the trash can for mango peels while the
rest of the lemurs waited rather impatiently outside.
Click on the photos to
see the full size picture
At this point, the cycling took a
turn for the better. The Indian Ocean was on our right. We had frequent fresh
coconuts and watermelon slices from roadside vendors in the lush tropical
environment. Early starts (6:00 a.m.) permitted afternoons at the beach: this is
what all bicycle touring should be like. We like one spot so much that we stayed
3 nights (Fénérive Est) and enjoyed the beautiful white sand beach and nice
bungalows before continuing on.
A 2-hour boat ride brought us to
Ile Sainte Marie only to discover that we were late. We were 300 years too late
for one of the greatest parties of all time. The island was once a pirate
hangout; on one occasion, pirates partied on the contents of a commandeered ship
carrying a bellyful of whiskey. 400 died of alcohol
excess.
Our Ile Sainte Marie was a great
deal less exciting. A tablecloth caught fire from a banana flambé. A lemur
sitting on Glenn's shoulder had a tantrum because Glenn wouldn't share his
Coca-Cola. We watched the tree people sitting precariously on branches while
they harvested the clove crop. But mostly we just swam, snorkeled, lounged,
read, ate seafood and fresh lychees and cycled around the delightful island
wishing we had 3 weeks not just 2 weeks on the island.
So our Madagascar trip started
out disappointing (the south) but we ended it, wishing we could stay
longer!
TRAVEL
NOTES
On the road to Budapest: we
traveled with a Hungarian map of Madagascar. The only connection we could see
between the 2 countries is that town names are equally unpronounceable.
What happens when 2 vazaha
(foreigners) cycle through a Madagascar village: even the dogs stare. Then the
smiles break out. The kids start running to the road. The hands start to wave
and greetings come from everywhere.
Vanilla Ice Cream: 80% of the
world's vanilla is grown in Madagascar, Réunion and the Comoros. 90% of the crop
goes to the USA for Ice Cream making.
Painted on an Ile Sainte Marie
taxi's hood: Tout est beau.
MADAGASCAR: THE REAL STORY
Poverty: this is the most obvious
characteristic of the country. Children sift through garbage heaps. The World
Bank ranked Madagascar's per capita GNP183 out of 203 countries. It is
shocking.
Health Risks: Malaria and
Bilharzia thrive. There was a cholera epidemic when we were there. We had no
tummy problems. We took Lariam as a malarial prophylaxis with its delightful
side effect of lucid dreams. Another Lariam side-effect can be paranoia but we
were unaffected by the pink elephants (from Puros Namibia) and the giant green
lemurs which always followed us.
Drinking Water: The tap water in
many towns is full of all sorts of interesting floating particles. Many village
water sources are from dirty rivers.
Eco-tourism: Some of the micro
National Parks are stretched, particularly in August when, for instance, 400
tourists/day descend on Ranomafana chasing after the same lemurs.
Why do tourists go to Madagascar?
The French go there in droves because it it's a third world country where they
don't have to speak English. Everyone else goes there because they think the
French are onto something. Then no one admits that it wasn't terrific after
paying all that airfare to get there. Some even return a second time to prove
they didn't waste their money on the first visit.
FOR THE
RECORD
Banana Index: 60 for 1
USD
Mango Index: 60 for 1 USD (west
coast)
Condom Index: 20 packs of 3 or 60
for 1 USD (widely available)
Kilometres by bicycle:
1725
Flat tires:
1
Number of times chased by dogs:
none
Kilometres by taxi-brousse:
1020
Kilometres with Eric &
Alexandra: 365
Most passengers in our
taxi-brousse (Peugot 404): 32
Other Cycle tourists seen:
8
Madagascar tent nights:
11
Lemur species seen in the wild:
Eastern Woolly, Greater Dwarf, Golden Bamboo, Grey Bamboo, Indri, Ring-tailed,
Brown, Red-fronted, Red-bellied, Brown Mouse, Diademed Sifaka, Milne-Edwards,
Verreaux's Sifaka and Black and White Ruffed