The Robson Travel Blog

Having to do something with our down time in Morondava we took a tuk tuk (I always love saying that) to L’allee des Baobab, the area that hosts baobab trees lining the dirt road that heads north to the Tsingy and is famous for the photos that probably everyone has seen when looking at or reading information about Madagascar. Us and about 100 other people had the same idea so you know you will not get the National Geographic photos that you expect. Something like the famous photo of an elephant on the road in Kruger National Park with a traffic jam of photo seekers. We expected this however the site was a bit anticlimactic. It was beautiful of course but the photos everyone sees are taken without people and just the right lighting but I must say, if you Google L’allee Des Baobabs I think Joyce’s photos are just as spectacular as the Google pics. So there!

We got our shots and decided to leave before the crowds. It was a dusty road and we didn’t feel like eating dust for dinner.

The final leg of our 4×4 journey took about 4 hours to cover approximately 90 kms.

There were a few good stretches of sand tracks and very few rocky stretches which was nice but we encountered some of the worst washboard stretches we have ever driven. Our truck has heavy duty suspension so washboard is the worst possible condition to drive.

We encountered several deep mud crossings and a couple of fairly deep water crossings so the thought of getting stuck again was always in the back of our minds.

About 20 kms away from pavement, and feeling a little more relaxed, we encountered more mud, and it looked really deep. I picked a route and as I accelerated through the quagmire we hit what sounded like a large rock submerged in the mud. Yikes!

The truck kept a rollin and we escaped unscathed and continued on but wait… what’s that scraping sounding noise that is emanating from the right front wheel-well whenever we hit a large bump? Must be mud stuck on the mud flap, no?

No it wasn’t. We stopped and upon inspection I could see the right front wheel had zero clearance in the wheel-well. We must have blown a shock absorber.

Fortunately this happened at the very end of the day of our driving adventure and we were getting close to tarmac. Had we had more mountains to climb and rivers to cross a blown shock could have been a very serious situation indeed.

We proceeded on and finally, just up ahead, tarmac! Civilization! We had accomplished what no man has accomplished before, we, oh never mind, you get the picture, we made it.

We limped into the town of Morondava, picked up some phone data from Orange, withdrew 1.2 million Ariary (worth about $420.00 CAD) from Bank of Africa and then pulled in to a local automotive mechanics shop.

They identified the problem immediately, it wasn’t the shock absorber but I think a steel suspension link or something and they didn’t have the part on-hand but they could get one delivered quickly.

After about 1 1/2 hours of hanging around the oil stained hot and humid car repair pit and hot garage we finally got a ride to our hotel and we prayed the truck would be fixed by tomorrow.

To our surprise and relief the truck was delivered around 8:30 in the morning. Our Pisteur, Antonio showed up to tell us. What a guy! Excellent service!

We don’t know the cost of the repair as it was picked up by our rental company, Roadtrip Africa/Madagascar. Their service and response to any issues we have faced along the way has been great. More on that later in my final Madagascar review.

We spent the first two nights at Chez Maggie, a nice lodge with bungalows near the ocean side.

We had booked two nights but needed two more due to what I will explain below but unfortunately they were booked up but the lodge next door, Laguna Beach had a room and it had air conditioning. This was going to be a treat. The room was large and cool with a big shower and lots of space.

The food in the restaurant was very good, quite pricey relative to everywhere else we have been but good but this is lunch that I’m talking about. The breakfast was way overpriced and the serving staff didn’t seem to have a clue what they were doing. The first breakfast we did get our juice after asking and our coffee a little hotter after our first cup, and a napkin after asking but the second breakfast was a disaster and we walked out refusing to pay. We were first served lukewarm coffee after asking specifically for hot coffee and after having to wait 15 minutes. Then came the the first plate of food, 1/3 of a rotten banana, dried out banana bread and a whole unpeeled mango. What are we supposed to do with a whole unpeeled mango? We don’t have a sharp knife and we don’t have a napkin. Then, my so called omelette shows up.  Where is Joyce’s omelette? Where’s our bread, you brought the jam for crying out loud, where’s the bread? And the juice, where’s the juice??? We had enough, got up and left rather ticked off. We really are not that hard to get along with. Joyce and I are the nicest people in the world but at some point you have to draw a line. It sounds like we’re whining here but they really had no concept of service and not a clue of what their breakfast was supposed to consist of. It’s written on the menu, in french, english and malagasy so get with it management or you won’t understand why no one stays at your place.  Enough said. Now on to why our plans were altered.

I planned and booked our whole time in Madagascar. One evening about a week ago I was reviewing our itinerary and noticed a, shall I say, slight error. Our plan was to spend two nights in Morondava and then head north to the Tsingy de Bemaraha, a protected UNESCO world heritage site of  immense beauty but it was not to be. The drive would be approximately 8-10 hours, part of which would consist of military escort with a convoy of 4×4’s heading north to the Tsingy. We had three nights planned to allow for some time to explore the area. What I didn’t factor in was the drive back to Morondava thinking we could drive straight to Miandrivazo. That would have been a 14+ hour drive. Damn! We decided it just wasn’t worth the 16+ hour return drive to have one full day of exploration. We missed a beautiful site so we’ll save the Tsingy for next time.

Morondava is probably one of the nicest towns we have been to. The main street is wide and clean with sidewalks. One area is devoted to the food market. Fish, fresh veggies etc. Further along is a section devoted to cheap chinese footwear and other crap that will fall apart within days but hey, the price is right. It is a stop off or starting point for tourists wanting to head north to the Tsingy and those (us) who made their way from the south with intentions to continue north. It has an airport so it is a very convenient place to start your adventure whether it be north or south.

Next, a short trip to L’allee des Baobabs.

We spent two nights at this gorgeous location at Hotel Entremer. The hotel is owned by a very nice French (Canadian) women, Laurence. She was an excellent host and a french trained chef. The food on order was primarily fresh seafood and it was delicious and cooked to perfection. Aside from breakfast we had seafood for every meal. The beach was untouched by civilization other than the local fishing village community. The water was an aqua marine colour and the tide was an amazing 4.5 metres. We strolled the beach in the morning to visit the local fishermen and then stayed in the shade for most of the day. It was incredibly hot outside.

The below two pics are a solar water heating box. The water is used for a hot water bucket shower and works very well. The temperature of the water reaches close to 80 degrees celsius.

Next stop, Morondava.

Okay, so when will this ever end or maybe, how will this end?

The road to Manja takes anywhere from 7 to 10 hours depending on, well, the road and a small ferry crossing across the Mangoky river.

We were expecting much longer travel times but the Chinese have come in and “fixed” some of the bad parts of the road, (we were told there are precious stones in the area, hmmm and surprise surprise!) so there was a few times where you could actually travel at about 40-50 km/hr.

When we got to the river Joyce decided to get out of the vehicle before I attempted the ferry loading which we were told could be fun.

The reasons for her abandonment was first, she was afraid she would go down with the truck, and second, we needed to have this on video to show how adept I am navigating the most challenging situations presented to me or, totally blowing it! LOL!

It was a blast and I probably gave the truck a little too much oomph as I became slightly airborne after hitting the ramps a little too fast.

I was quite proud of myself. I can’t say I’ve met many people who have done this and I didn’t go flying off of the other side of the barge so, success.

The barge is moved completely by manpower. There were several men in the river, ropes in hand who pulled the barge to the other side where we made a smooth exit onto dry land.

We continued on for another 80 kms negotiating the ever changing road conditions through bush, mud, shallow creeks and rocks until we finally arrived in Manja, our pit stop for the evening before continuing on to Belo-sur-Mer in the morning.

Manja is a small dusty town with one hotel and a new hotel annex where we stayed for the night. It was very basic accommodation. We had skinny barbecue chicken with pomme frites and a few cold beers before calling it an evening.

After a fitful nights sleep we proceeded onward for the 5 hour, 90 km journey to Belo-sur-Mer.

The timing of our arrival was important because the lodge is surrounded by tidal flats so the only times you can access the lodge is during low tide. The sand was quite deep as we neared the lodge so our anxiety level rose but we made it without incident.

 

It couldn’t get any worse could it?

Antonio, the pisteur of few words except “okay” implied no, just some rocks and sand, not too bad. The last leg was really quite bad and we started to lack confidence in his words. Maybe this is part of the psychology they use to ensure you don’t just throw up your arms, say “screw it” and call in the rescue team.

We departed Tsiandamba on the 28th where we had a one night pit stop at Five Senses Lodge, another french run lodge where no one spoke english. It was like pulling teeth to get any information on what the english translation was for the menu offerings, what came with what and I could go on and on but I’m sure you are sensing the frustration that has been building so far with our experiences that, although I haven’t really touched upon yet has become a very  big sore point for us to date. In most counties we have travelled, the hosts go out of their way to accomodate you, the french don’t seem to share that sense of hospitality. If you don’t speak french you are ignored most of the time and you wait forever for service. We’re from Canada, an english/french speaking country. We don’t speak french but everywhere else in the world, english is usually on the menu. Not Madagascar. They are influenced by the french and I’m sorry, but it really pisses us off.  Anyway, we continued on to Andavodok where we could hopefully unwind with a two night stay at Laguna Blu, what a lovely sounding name and it was a lovely setting but again, french run, for french speaking people with a scatter brained french owner. She did however speak italian, we don’t so c’est la vie! What a mess!

The drive was treacherous to say the least. I don’t have words to describe the condition of the pathways that lead through no-mans land, through small, dirt poor villages, the people probably having lived this way since day one, sustenance farming, raising Zebu (our equivalent of cattle) and getting by. The children and adults were always smiling and we would wave as they would as we passed slowly through the sandy pathways winding through wooden and thatched huts in a dusty sand landscape surrounded by brush or sea side with the sounds of “bon bon” (candy) shouted by the children as we passed.

We estimated our travel time to be about 5 hours and were thrown off track by taking a wrong turn through a very sandy track to eventually be met by a fallen tree blocking our way. I was able to do the turn around dance once more and we headed back to the village where we took the wrong turn and then proceeded in the correct direction.

The road wasn’t too bad and we estimated about 45 minutes until we would make our destination. The land was barren and the surface of much of the area looked white and hard. The gravel road seemed to come to and end. Antonio looked forward towards a far sand dune and said the “lodge is right over there, probably about a 15 minute drive”. I asked if I should go straight, it looked like a decent hard surfaced dried salt pan and he agreed so off we went, for about 3 minutes, maybe 500 metres and then bam, deep mud hidden under the innocent white surface and we were stuck. Really, really stuck. OMG!! So close and yet so far, the last thing you want to happen and the one thing that is always in the back of your mind just before you reach your final stopping point. The time now was about 1:00 pm and in the distance we could see two people. Antonio proceeded towards them and they came to assist. Let’s push us out. Bad idea. We sunk even deeper. Now what? On the horizon, somehow through telepathy a few more men from the nearby village heard the distress call and came to assist. Then several more, then a few women, then some children with their chickens.

For the next 5 hours they walked several hundred metres back and forth to collect rocks, carrying them on their shoulders, the women carrying them on their heads and we dug, and dug, and placed the rocks and tried to get out but there was no way in hell we could get out of the quagmire. The original 7 men and 3 women were eventually joined by what seemed to be the whole village. They argued amongst themselves on the best way to handle this. The hours passed and I kept telling Antonio to call the lodge and have them send a 4×4 to maybe assist. I finally called the truck rental company and they seemed rather nonchalant. Finally, 25 people and chickens and a zebu cart  joined in. I pulled out the heavy duty jack and I jacked up each corner of the vehicle about 4 times (12 times total I think but it seemed like 112), each time placing flat rocks under the wheels until the truck was finally level with the original track. The sun was beating down, we didn’t have anything to eat since breakfast, Joyce was feeling faint, I was feeling a little pissed off because after 12 times of jacking up the truck I was sweating and shall we say a little tired and the men and boys were laughing at me because of my sweat and red white face I imagine and my white hair was not so neatly in it’s oh so white man ponytail. I wasn’t too pleased with the situation but we were ready to give it another try. It was now 6:05 pm and the sun was just below the horizon. One of the men who joined the party late and suggested the jacking up solution was a driver/guide who works in the tourist industry. He asked me if I wanted to back the truck up or should he? I said go for it, I didn’t need any more of this. He did and the final solution worked! We were out, but not quite out of the woods. We of course realized that this would cost us, not a problem but with the original 7 turning into probably 27 people this was really going to add up. It added up to probably $250.00 and it was impossible to please everyone with the payment we gave them, 40,000 Ariary each, about $14.00 CAD or the equivalent of about 7 days of income for the average Malagasy. If we had to wait until the next day who knows what the outcome would be. We figured the truck would have been swallowed up by the mud/quicksand and we would be facing a very large bill and a big change of plans but, it worked out. Hallelujah!

We finally arrived at our lodge, 5 1/2 hours later than planned. It was, take a guess, french run with another scattered brained owner (seems to be the norm here because WTF would want to run a lodge in the middle of nowhere). We had a small dinner and went to bed early looking forward to a relaxing next day. Our morning breakfast was typical, bread, jam, bread, sweet bread, fruit, juice, coffee, bread and an egg fried and rolled so it could be called an omelette. Very typical and we are getting really sick and tired of bread and jam for breakfast! Speaking of sick, after breakfast we went for a walk along the beach. Very remote and pristine and my stomach was becoming very bloated and not so pristine. I was sick for the rest of the day and Joyce also had to visit the upchuck hotel as something she ate hit her also. We had a small pasta dish the night before for dinner and bread and jam and bread and coffee (and some very thin yogurt) for breakfast so I don’t know what hit me but my gut ached to the point that moaning made it feel a little better. Just like a little kid. Fortunately the next morning I felt better because there was no way in hell that we would attempt the 9 hour drive that would follow. Joyce did feel better in the evening and took a few good pics of the area and sunset while I lied in bed moaning and groaning.

Well that was quite the experience and not one we will soon forget. Next stop, Manja.

 

After spending the 26th and 27th at the Residence Eden Lodge in Tulear we met our Pisteur.

A Pisteur is a guide who “intimately” knows roads and the changing conditions of the terrain that would we would drive for the next 6 days.

His name was Antonio and he spoke english, sort of, however without his help navigating the myriad of trails, paths, villages (do we turn right, left or go straight?) that we encountered on our first day we probably would have had a problem driving the route by ourselves.

Our route took us through deep sandy tracks, rocky paths and beautiful seaside vistas. There were a couple of dicey situations but our Nissan 4×4 with locked hubs pulled us through to our final destination.

We drove the “notorious RN5” a little while back and if you recall my first sentence to describe it, it was “Holy Crap! Well, let me tell you here and now the RN5 was a walk in the park, a piece of cake, a sunday afternoon drive compared to what was in store for us over the next few days.

Now to be honest we only drove the RN5 to Mohambo and our understanding is it get seriously worse north of there but oh my god, this, the beginning of our off-road adventure was definitely an eye opener and we really can’t imagine how the RN5 could be worse. Maybe you need winches and stuff to get you through, I don’t know but this was a challenge.

Our destination was Five Senses Lodge, another beautiful wild beach location.

We arrived at about 1:00 pm and had time to relax, had a very nice cheese sandwich for lunch and a delicious meal in the evening. Good preparation for the next day of travel.

The 26th was another sunny warm day and this was the day we would finally hit the south west coast of Madagascar.

We were staying at a french run Resort, The Residence Eden Lodge which was supposed to be about 45 minutes south of Tulear and it was another “here we go again” with our Google Maps and Maps.me navigation systems not necessarily being accurate.

From Isalo NP the road was very good and we made good time. As we approached Tulear our navigation buddies suggested we hang a left off of the RN7 and take the gravel road which would lead almost directly to our accommodation. The road junction had a few signs, none of which mentioned our lodge so we stopped off of the side of the road and contemplated our next move.

Right near the junction there just happened to be a police road stop, which are many when travelling through the country, so we figured we would ask one of the policemen.

None of them spoke english.

Not surprised we showed them our destination on our maps and we showed them the actual village name and address from an email from our iPad. They commiserated and came back to tell us that no, this road you want to take is tres mal! You must go an additional 500 metres down the road and then turn left.

Okay, glad we asked and then proceeded to travel 500 metres, 1 km, 1.5 kms, curse and swear and then turn around and go back to the police stop!

This time there is another fellow who pokes his head into our open window. Maybe he’s undercover because he didn’t have the police issue gendarmerie uniform on but he insisted that we do not take the route our maps suggest. He said drive 5 kms, not 500 metres and then turn left and you will eventually find your hotel and he was absolutely correct!

Our Maps.me did eventually display this new road leading to our lodge and we did verify by stopping several times to ask if we were indeed on the right path and indeed we were.

The last stretch of the road to our lodge was a little sketchy and at one point we drove probably about 1 km along a very narrow road with a cliff on one side and a “you are dead if you go off the edge” drop off on the other side. It kind of reminded us of the Facebook videos that have circulated of some of the mountain side “roads” in the Himalayas but not quite as harrowing fortunately becaused Joyce would have walked right there and then. Most of the road was okay in relative terms so aside for the direction mess up we made it to the lodge in probably 1 hour to cover 30 kms.

The lodge was really quite nice and we had a very large bungalow with living area, outdoor tanning beds and a view of the turquoise waters of the Mozambique channel.

The owners also had a penchant for pets, probably 8 cats and several dogs who acted as if they had never eaten a meal in their life when we would try to enjoy our dinner, breakfast or lunch. They were a big pain in the ass and to top it off, the morning of our departure while eating the standard bread, butter and jam breakfast with a cold “omelette” thrown in to justify the cost, the local pet lemur decided to stop by and steal our banana bread.

We were supposed to meet our Pisteur at the lodge at 9:00 am and finally at 10:00 we received a phone call to inform us his taxi broke down on the way to meet us. Surprise surprise! A little ticked because every hour of travel time is very valuable, we departed the lodge with a 10% discount due to no hot water, hey, it’s an ecolodge afterall excuse, and made our way back along the gravel and rocks to meet up with Antonio, our guide for the next 6 days of off road 4×4 adventure.

 

 

 

Departing September 24th knowing we will miss the extraordinary scenery of Andringitra we hit the road to make our way to Isalo National Park, about 220 kms south west and about 230 kms from the west coast of Madagascar.

The RN7 on this portion of our journey was excellent and we cruised at an average of 80 km/ hr. There were still the occasional surprise potholes but the going was generally smooth and uneventful. Traffic was very light as we passed through wide open vistas of endless uninhabited grassland and distant rocky crags.

The land so far in our travels has primarily been composed of red clay with limited farming potential. The area here seemed unsupportive of agriculture as it was flat and not conducive to building and cultivating rice terraces so villages and people were few and far between, just wide open infertile land.

We reached our destination, Isalo Ranch, in 4 hours. It is such a luxury to be able to travel 200+ kms in 4 hours!

The “Ranch” is a collection of bungalows located right off of the RN7 just outside of the town of Ranohira, the gateway to Isalo NP and the sandstone canyons and forests that dot the most visited national park in Madagascar.

There are 20 nice bungalows, a swimming pool and bar and restaurant area populated by seniors groups seeing the sights in three weeks, couples with their drivers and us, the only couple anyone had met so far who are driving independently through this country.

In our travels to date we have seen maybe 3 cars/4×4 vehicles that had a white driver and white passenger so we know there are others doing what we’re doing but they are few and far between. When the locals ask us if we are with a group or a guide and we tell them no, they seem impressed, it’s unusual, and in our opinion it’s the only way to fly!

Andringitra NP was established is 1962 and is the third largest park in Madagascar. The landscape is giant sandstone canyons, some up to 200 metres deep and lined with tropical forests, meandering creeks and shallow and deep pools among the boulder strewn landscape.

There are several species of diurnal and nocturnal lemurs as well as the elusive and rare Verreaux’s Sifika, aka the dancing sifika. Sifikas are part of the lemur genus but belong to the Indriidae family. These animals run on two feet and can jump up to 10 metres between tree branches. We were told we were very lucky to see this sifika and quite up-close as well.

We also came across Ring tailed lemurs, a large name unknown chameleon and a Madagascar Hoopoe bird.

It was another great hike, the beer was cold back at the ranch and we prepared for our next and first stop on the south western coast.

 

 

The reason Ranomafana is a rainforest is well, because of the rain and it was raining lemurs and chameleons when we departed on the 22nd at about 8:30 am.

We were expecting another 5.5-6 hour drive and this time Google Maps was fairly accurate. We did the drive in 5.5 hours.

The traffic was very light and being a Sunday it seemed there were far fewer trucks and passenger busses on the road which was surprisingly good with few pot holes and some stretches where we could hit close to 80km/hr however the last 45 minutes was gravel, rock and clay with some serious bumps along the way.

Our accommodation for two nights was at Tsara Camp nestled in the Tsaranoro Valley in the Andringitra mountains surrounded by great mastifs in the west and tall craggy peaks in the east. A very stunning location.

Andringitra National Park is a World Heritage designated site established in 1999 and is part of the Rainforests of the Antsinanan and covers 31,160 hectares.

As in most places to date the lodge offered wifi but as we have said many times before the service is actually ” why try”. First world problems but a hassle when you want to keep your blog up to date.

Our lodging was a permanent tent with an outdoor shower with very hot solar heated water, great views, good food, great staff and an a amazing location. The road to access the camp off of the RN7 was about 23 kms and was very bad. A regular car probably couldn’t make it to the lodge so a 4×4 in our opinion is a must. A great place and we highly recommend it.

Some local residents

The area was truly beautiful and we took advantage of it by doing another 4 hour hike and fortunately this time our knees stood up to the challenge.

We walked about 1 km along a dusty clay road with a panoramic view that was out of a travel Madagascar brochure, past a small village to the “Guides” office where we hooked up with Evenie, a young female guide who happened to speak very good english.

She has only been guiding for four months and has plans to continue on in university to complete her nationally recognized guiding certificate. We were told that to become a guide in Madagascar requires about four years of study and apprenticeship. Guides are required to know the latin and local names of all of the flora and fauna of the area, the medicinal properties of the flora as well as the cultural and historical facts of the area(s) they guide.

We hiked for 4 hours through mostly flat trails with some challenging vertical thrown in.

Wandering through the “Sacred Forest” we saw many stone constructed markers which identified the location of tombs. They were scattered throughout the forest, in the hundreds, and housed (is that the right term?) generations of families that have lived in the area.

While we were strolling along we came upon a small group of hikers that were staying at our lodge. Two of the people in particular seemed to have big chips on their shoulders that we had noticed/felt earlier.

As we crossed paths they commented to the effect that the hike was a waste of time, they only saw one lemur, it was hot outside, my bunions are hurting etc. etc. We don’t have time for people like that but what caught our attention was the lemur comment.

For some reason we weren’t aware there were lemurs in the area and as it turns out there are two diurnal species and three nocturnal species! Missed that in my research.

Within about twenty minutes of our meeting we encountered four Ring Tailed Lemurs and then ten minutes later another 15 Ring tails. As we weren’t expecting this it was definitely a big highlight of our hike. Fantastic!

The first group of lemurs seemed quite timid with our presence but with the second group we were able to get quite close. We were told that since so many hikers come through part of area they have become habituated to human presence.

With the sun high above us the temperature was hitting close to 35 C as we descended our final leg of the hike. On our way we passed an exposed tomb bearing skeletal remains. The remains were those of several Betsileo people who live on the other side of the Andringitra mountain range. These people had stolen the prized zebu from the local Bara people and their punishment was death. The tomb has been exposed to act as a warning.

The knees were holding up but we were getting pooped and we bid farewell to Evenie and trudged back the 1 km to our lodge for a small lunch and a well deserved siesta.

Chameleon Mountain

That evening after dinner in the restaurant we were treated to some local music and dancing.

This was not your “typical” tourist oriented crap that you might expect to find at some all-inclusive 4 star hotel. The musicians came from the local villages and the dancers were most of the staff at the lodge. It was great entertainment.

We’ve searched high and low throughout our travels through 12 countries in Africa to date and it is so difficult to find this kind of entertainment and although the show was short it was a great way to end a great day!

 

Another long drive (6 hours) to cover a relatively short distance (238 kms).

The roads aren’t too bad aside from the standard pot holes, but they are winding, very winding, through hilly and semi- mountainous terrain. The going isn’t bad until you come up behind a truck or one of the many overcrowded, smoke spewing passenger vans (taxi-brousses) that ply the entire country. Then you have to wait and wait until there is a short straight section in the road. And then you go for it!

You really do go for it because (a) there probably will be another vehicle approaching the curve ahead of you and (b) there is hopefully a patch of road that doesn’t have a tire destroying pot hole right in the passing lane.

The scenery as mentioned is hilly and mountainous with small villages scattered throughout. The mode of transportaion in many of the village is by pousse-pousse, essentialy a rickshaw with young men running barefoot up and down the pot holed streets barely breaking a sweat.

It is estimated that between 1 and 2 % of the remaining forests are destroyed each year and a staggering 80-90% of the land burns each year.  The forests are gone and the land is bare and terraced and made to support the growing of rice and other foodstuffs.

We have read that upwards to 90% of the original forests that covered Madagascar not that long ago have been destroyed and the only forest remaining are in the national parks. To add to this dilemma, one Asian country in particular are here raping, through illegal logging by the locals, the remaining Rosewood trees.

They’ve removed them all from SE Asia and now they are here doing the same. I won’t go into this but suffice it to say, as in all of the other African, South Asian and Asian countries we have visited, let’s just say there is a country involved that is not well liked, at all by many.

We stayed at Setam Lodge which is about 1 km inside of the park boundary. It is nestled on a hillside and there is a very steep stair climb from where we parked our truck. This was a good prep for our next day when we headed out on a so called “easy” trek into the rainforest in search of the Common and Golden Lemurs, both highly threatened and only found in this rainforest.

The view from our bungalow

Ranomafana National Park is 41,600 hectares of tropical rainforest and was established in 1991 after the discovery of the very rare Bamboo Lemur. It is a World Heritage Site and is part of the Rainforests of Ansinanana and is an excellent example of the cloud forests with very high diversity that once flourished in the area.

After a breakfast of bread, yogurt and bread with jam, oh and a small glass of juice and some lukewarm coffee (a very typical Malagasy breakfast), we met our guide and walked uphill along the road for 1 km to reach the entrance to the start of several hiking routes through the forest.

Exhausted after the inclined walk, just kidding but I did feel a little winded because hey, we’ve been driving and essentially sitting on our butts for the past two months, we proceeded into the entrance of the rainforest, straight up!

The sky was cloudy, heavy cloudy and after only a short heart attack inducing climb of about 10,000 feet it started to rain. It felt like 10,000 feet but was probably only about 300 feet. Our knees were feeling good, the mud and clay and tree roots were getting wet and slippery and we were on our way deep into the heart of one of the last remaining rainforests in Madagascar. We took the “easy” 4 hour trek. As I write this from my hospital recovery bed I can tell you here and now that it wasn’t that easy. Maybe for a 20 year old but…

It wasn’t really that bad and I do tend to exaggerate but it was a challenge and it was well worth the sore knees, the drenched cloths and muddy hiking boots.

We did “see” the highly endangered Golden Bamboo Lemur but unfortunately high in the forest canopy. We also caught site of the Greater Bamboo Lemur, the Paradise flycatcher and then were treated to about six or seven Common Brown Lemurs just outside our lodge after the hike. A nice finish to a good day.

After a hot shower dinner time. Zebu and beans with watercress. Yummy!