Madagascar is the second-largest island country and the fourth-largest island in the world. It has a population of about 26 million. French and Malagasy are the official languages and it is one of the poorest countries on earth.
Since the arrival of humans about 2,350 years ago, Madagascar has lost approximately 90% of its original forest cover with a conservative estimate of 40% since the 1950s to 2000.
Madagascar rates as one of the unhappiest places on earth with almost 70% living under the poverty line of $1.00 per day. The official minimum wage is 160,000 Ariary/month which works out to approximately $2.00 CAD/day.
The two largest cities are first, Antananarivo, the capital, and second, Antsirabe. We drove (inched our way) through both and as mentioned several times in our posts when you drive through a town big or small, you drive through chaos.
All towns generally have very narrow potholed streets and typically markets line both sides. There are rarely any sidewalks and the roads are filled with pedestrians, tuk tuks, trucks of every imaginable size, motorcycles and bicycles loaded to the hilt with death-defying bundles of everything under the sun.
Something we noticed was the lack of litter and garbage. We think the Malagasy people take pride in cleanliness and it was obvious in comparison to countries such as India, Jordan, Zambia, Tanzania etc. etc.
We especially noticed the lack of plastic bag garbage. There was essentially none and it is probably due to the fact that practically everyone uses reusable straw or cloth bags. There is a lesson to be learned here for the many countries choking on plastic bag waste.
Most, if not all of the lodges we stayed at were French-run and/or owned and we found that if you didn’t speak French, then be prepared to be seriously frustrated. It harkened me back to the late 70s when I first visited France. If you don’t speak the language then you are shit out of luck however we really only experienced this with the lodges.
It could be very challenging and maddening. Even if I spoke the limited French I know I would be met with blank stares and/or a rapid reply in French and this was especially true when trying to order lunch or dinner from a menu.
To be fair there were a couple of places where, if the servers weren’t sure of what you wanted they would go and ask for help from someone who spoke a little English but this was rare.
The language challenge we faced was next to being on par with some of the challenges we faced driving. It really was difficult and surprising considering we’re from Canada where everything is bilingual French and English and we do have a basic knowledge of the language. C’est la vie!
Although we know that most of the forests of Madagascar have disappeared, the scenery was still spectacular and one can only imagine how it was, like many places in the world one can assume, way back when.
What was quite striking though was the amount of erosion happening throughout the country. The primary surface cover is a clay/sand mixture and vast gorges of every size dot the landscape. This has led to serious siltation in many of the seaside areas with the rain washing tonnes of clay and sand down the barren hillsides into swollen rivers and then on to the Indian Ocean.
Vast areas of hillside have been terraced to allow for the growing of rice and other foodstuffs. If you didn’t know you were in Madagascar you would be excused for thinking you were in Bali or another Southeast Asian country.
Rice is a main staple here and they can’t grow enough. Madagascar leads by far the major rice growing countries in terms of volume. The average person consumes about 120kg/year compared to China at 77kg/year. Only Vietnam eats more rice at 144 kg per inhabitant. Some of the first people who came to Madagascar were from Indonesia and Malaysia more than 1,000 years ago with rice cultivation starting around 1540.
The facial features of the Malagasy people are distinctly different than mainland Africa and reflects the Asian influence although the food didn’t tend to reflect the spices you would associate with this influence.
Breakfast is heavily French-influenced so be prepared to eat primarily bread, croissants, butter and jam and occasionally a half-brown banana or overripe mango and if you were really lucky, a few pieces of soft pineapple.
Of course there are eggs but an omelette is essentially eggs beaten in a bowl and then fried. If you are lucky to have them “avec fromage” then you will have a small thin slice or two melted on top of the fried eggs.
Don’t even bother asking for over easy eggs. There is no “easy” and the eggs were usually fried in a heavy oil so they tended to be oily/greasy.
We never saw any bacon however there was the odd time you could order sausage and it was okay but you couldn’t help wonder in the back of your mind how old they were.
Lunches tended to be cheese or omelette sandwiches served on a foot-long or longer loaf of French bread. No butter, no mayonnaise, just bread and cheese or bread and fried egg. Sometimes the bread was fresh.
Of course we had the occasional decent lunch but not very often.
Dinners weren’t too bad and we had some great seafood on the west coast and the odd pizza or pasta dish was a nice change from the tough zebu meat served throughout the country.
Through our travels and the many cases of the “cramps and trots”, basically food poisoning, we have become a little less daring in our food adventures so I am certain we missed out on some very delicious and local roadside stall food so I will not criticize what I don’t know.
I’m only speaking of what was available at the average mid-priced accommodation that we stayed at most of the time with the exception of a few lodges mentioned in previous posts. We used to have stomachs of steel, me more so than Joyce so I guess our gut biome is a little less resistant to all of the stuff we’ve thrown at it over the years and sometimes it rebels.
The roads…? My guess is probably 10% of the roads we drove were good enough to drive 70-80 km/hr without the risk of surprise potholes. Otherwise they are very bad and you are lucky to average 40 km/hr.
It seems like the government has just given up on maintaining them and they are rapidly turning into treacherous, dangerous and next to undrivable routes that the people have no choice but to use.
The roads are also very narrow and very winding in many areas with tight steep curves where I found myself straining to look to either see what is coming up and over a hill or around a hairpin curve.
Most vehicles travel in the middle of the road, large trucks especially so you are often gripping the wheel and trying not to go off of the side of the road while trying to avoid collisions and the gaping holes and cracks that line the roadside. The roads are full of pedestrians, bicycles, zebu carts, and flatbed carts loaded with whatever you can imagine being pushed and pulled by boys and men of all ages.
The bottom line is the roads are very hazardous and require your complete attention and concentration when driving.
The Malagasy people are generally warm and smiling but often there seemed to be an undertone of sadness or the recognition of a life they have little or no opportunity to escape.
This seemed to be somewhat regional and I can only guess why.
Some areas seemed more prosperous and were generally well developed farming areas or they were on the tourist routes but the people didn’t necessarily seem happier however in many of the poorest rural villages we drove through we were met with smiles and waves.
I think it was the bigger towns/cities that people seemed the saddest because the poor of the outlying areas who came to the cities for a better life have been bitterly disappointed and have a worse life in the city, their hopes dashed.
Maybe the poorest villages way off the beaten track with no cell phones and little outside influence are more content than those being influenced by social media. That’s my guess.
Madagascar’s tourism is developing and the forecast was for 500,000 visitors in 2019. We’re not sure if they’ll hit that number but without a doubt, tourism is helping the locals, their wellbeing and the economy however we think that without fairly substantial infrastructure investment, the current situation will definitely become more strained and could act as a deterrent to further growth.
Madagascar is a fascinating country with wide regional variations and we think the best way to see the country is by either a self-drive 4×4 or with a hired driver and guide. We chose to self-drive and loved every minute of it (almost). Yes it was challenging but we, at 61 and 63 years old are not quite ready to give up the freedom to self-drive in countries where it is possible to so.
We had time on our hands to self-drive where many didn’t so our hats are off to them for at least getting into a 4×4 and traversing whatever parts of the country they could. The rides they had were just as bumpy and thrilling as ours!
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We departed Arba Minch on November 4th and made our way north to Sabana Beach Resort on the shores of Lake Lagano.
It was a great drive back to Arba Minch. Rather than backtracking we took a different route that was far more scenic and a little more adventurous. We drove narrow gravel mountainside passes, crossed a couple of rivers and drove along dry riverbeds. It was a nice change from potholes and cows and goats.
In the afternoon back in Turmi there was a “jumping of the bulls” ceremony which is a rite of passage for young Hamer boys transitioning into manhood. The boys must run across the backs of seven castrated bulls which are covered in dung (to make them slippery) without falling. If they fall more than four times they must wait another year before trying again to reach their manhood. Another part of the ritual involves young girls being whipped with birch sticks. The women ask a boy to whip them on their backs and the boy obliges. It is believed the greater the pain the higher level of submission and loyalty they are showing to the boy and the scars left on their bodies are a symbol of the loyalty they are to receive from the men in return. The idea is at some point in the future the girl may need the young man’s help and will show him her scars as if obligating him to provide the required assistance.
We knew this would be happening at the ceremony and had no desire to see women getting whipped by men. We have seen the huge welts on the women’s backs and regardless of this being a cultural tradition, it’s probably time to stop this rather barbaric practice. We talked to several tourists who did attend and their observation was there were more tourists in attendance than tribal members and at 800 Birr admittance fee, it would seem this has become more of a cash grab than the continuation of a centuries-old practice although as mentioned in our previous post, good or bad, their livelihoods are in turmoil and survival and cash is a strong motivator to continue to draw in the tourists.
We departed Antoremba Lodge on the 19th and headed back by boat to Nosy Be, caught a ride at the wharf, proceeded northeast and then caught another boat to Constance Tsarabanjina located on a tiny private island about 70 km from Nosy Be harbour. This is a luxury all-inclusive resort with 24 bungalow-style villas spread out over two beaches of white powder sand and surrounded by the most amazingly clear aquamarine waters. 
