Madagascar...A Tough Place to Travel

By no means is Madagascar an easy country in which to travel. This I knew (or at least I assumed) when I finalized my travel plans a few months back while sitting in the comfort of my apartment in San Francisco. The four weeks traveling around South Africa (AKA Africa Lite) certainly did nothing to prepare me for the hardships that will certainly follow as I traverse the “Eighth Continent”. I arrived in the country’s capital, Antananarivo (Tana, for short) at the ungodly hour of 2:30 am. Not knowing whether anyone would be there to receive me at Madagascar Underground (the newly opened backpackers hostel that claims to be the only one of its kind in the country), I decided to wait around the airport until sunrise before embarking on my journey to the center of the city.

The thought of sleeping for a couple of hours was quickly forgotten due to the seemingly high number of shady looking characters hanging around the arrivals area who, in my mind, where ready to relieve me of my valuables the moment I shut my eyes. To help pass the time, I talked with a British couple who had also been on the same flight from Kenya and who were in transit awaiting their domestic flight to the northern town of Diego Suarez.

Three hours had passed and I was surprised to see the sun rise at 5:00 am. My immediate thought was how early I would have to set my alarm each morning as I would begin my search for Madagascar’s unique wildlife. I overheard a couple from Canada saying their good-byes to their local guide and I immediately approached him and asked if he was interested in making some money by driving me into the city. He was happy to do so and soon we were on our way, first passing through the outer suburbs adjacent to the airport, then through a series of beautiful rice paddies, and finally up to the front door of Madagascar Underground. I was happy to find the receptionist inside the hostel who welcomed me in and assured me that, while all the dorm beds were occupied, I would have access to a spot within a short amount of time. (Up until this night I had spent the previous 37 nights sleeping in my home-away-from-home; my orange NorthFace tent.) I had a great time over the next 2 full days hanging out with Martin, 25-year old French guy living in Madagascar where he works for a French telecommunications company; Lisa and Eli, an Israeli couple on their honeymoon; Ernesto, a Peace Corps volunteer working and living south of the capital; and Pedro, a former sugar salesman from Brazil who as has recently quit his job and is on a round-the-world trip. Antananarivo For an African country (if you can call Madagascar Africa) Antananarivo is an nice city. Surrounded by rice fields and sitting within attractive hillsides, the capital retains a French colonial feel. Several late 19th and early 20th century buildings dot the city’s landscape, older model Citroen 2CVs act as taxis, and French is heard throughout the streets. What interests me the most, however, is the city’s people.

With a population of 2 million, Tana’s people represent a broad spectrum of skin colors. It’s Africa, but I don’t feel like I’m in Africa. Within the airport alone, I observed people who reminded me of past trips to Malaysia, Indonesia, northern Philippines, India, and mainland Africa. Andasibe and Matandia National Parks Together with my newfound travel partner, Pedro, we headed off a bit later than planned to one of several taxi gares (stations) within the city to catch a ride eastward to Andasibe National Park. The level of anxiety was high as I anticipated being mobbed by touts looking to take advantage of two inexperienced “vasas” (the term used by locals to describe white foreigners….to all my fellow PCVs and RPCVs, think “Porto”, “Toubabou”, “Blanc”, “Hey, Joe”, etc.) AND a long wait for the taxi to depart. Experience in Africa certainly helped me cope with this highly stressful situation, but, nevertheless, a visit to any public transportation station in the developing world will certainly always be a lowlight for most travelers. As our taxi neared the “gare”, we were immediately assaulted by one overly-eager man who even attempted to enter our slow-moving vehicle in hopes of earning a small tip from the taxi company for “bringing” us to them. Going on advice from a couple of Peace Corps volunteers we had met at the hostel, we told him that we were not interested and made sure to keep a strong grasp on our bags as these guys will try to take them from you and force you to follow them to their taxi of choice. This reminded me of one experience I had years ago in Babadjou, Cameroon where I had exited my taxi, looked down to notice that my bag had disappeared, and then had to run after the guy who had already placed it on top of the bus that I was not intending to take. Several inappropriate words were shouted and some light physical contact to his face eventually resulted in the retrieval of my bag. Because the taxis only leave when full, we were lucky to have spent “only” 20 minutes looking for the vehicle with the most amount of passengers, and within 10 minutes, we were off. The drive to the outskirts of the city was slow, but soon enough we were driving eastward, descending from the central plateau through beautiful countryside. More rice fields, followed by forested mountainsides, small villages of wooden houses that pressed up against the sides of the roads, and degraded hillsides soon made the experience much more enjoyable. We made a short stop in the town of Moramanga before continuing the journey and within 3.5 hours were at the crossroads of the national highway and the road to Andasibe. Pedro had already made a reservation at one of the few small guesthouses and I headed off to the “resort” across the road where I had read that it was possible to camp. Reaching the reception, I was told that they no longer allowed camping, which was a big disappointment as the resort butted right up against the forest of the national park and the hope of seeing birds and lemurs from the door of my tent had been high. After a little begging, I was told that another site further down the road, and closer to the national park entrance, allowed camping. I hitched a ride with the owner of the Madagascar Underground hostel, who was in the area guiding the Israeli couple I had met in Tana, quickly set up the tent, and spent the remaining hour or so left of sunlight birding the road back to the guesthouse where Pedro was staying. At the guesthouse’s restaurant we had dinner and met Luc, our guide that Pedro had set up in advance. We negotiated the itinerary and price, bid farewell to the Israelis and, together with Pedro, slowly walked the road back to my camp in search of any nocturnal life forms that we had hoped to see. By the time we reached my camp we had seen nothing, but I was not too disappointed as we planned a night walk with Luc the following night and my hopes were high that we would see several interesting creatures. That night, as I laid down inside my tent, I anxiously awaited the nightly sounds of the area’s wildlife. I was the only one staying in the camp so it was very quiet and the slightest noise would certainly have awakened me. Over the course of the night I exited the tent three times to see what was happening in the trees around me, with the first two occasions introducing me to the nocturnal Wooly Lemur. From the sounds they made, they must have been no more than a few feet above my tent. Using my flashlight, I scanned the trees and soon found no less than 4 pairs of glowing orange eyes staring down at me. The excitement of being that close to wild lemurs made it difficult to go back to bed, but as I knew that we were having an early start the next morning, I forced myself to return to the confines of the tent where I was finally able to fall back asleep. By 4:55 in the morning I was awake and preparing for the day’s birding and general wildlife viewing within Andasibe NP. Waiting for Pedro and our guide, I spent a good hour birding along the road between my camp and the park’s entrance where I ticked off a few lifers, including the common Madagascar Bulbul, the colorful Blue Coua, and the raucous Lesser Vasa Parrot. Luc and Pedro arrived at 6:30, we paid our entrance fees, and then entered the forest. Luc immediately picked up on several species of vangas, a bird family endemic to Madagascar and the neighboring island nation of the Comoros. While I loathe using a guide when birding, in Madagascar it is mandatory within the national parks, and I had absolutely control over this. This said, we were exceptionally lucky to have Luc, as he knew his birds, something we would find out over the next two days with him. We continued along the forest trail, ticking off new bird after new bird. When we reached a small patch of bamboo, Vic stopped, took a quick look down a small clearing, and called us over to slowly and quietly enter the area. There in front of us, roughly at eye level, was our first Bamboo Lemur clinging to a stalk of bamboo and enjoying his breakfast of shoots. We then began a short, but steep, climb up through the forest along the aptly-named Indi Circuit, excited to see (and hear) the world’s largest lemur, the Indri (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4d3vFI5UpIc and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6eaTBoqpNEg). From his vest pocket, Luc pulled out his phone, which he uses for bird and mammal playback, pressed a few buttons, and from the phone came an audio recording of the eerie cry of an Indri. Within a matter of seconds we were surrounded by the piercing cries of 2-3 indris located directly above us. We had heard the cries the night before, but they had come from a distance away, and we were amazed by the volume that an animal this size could make. For anyone who has heard a howler monkey or a siamang vocalizing, the volume from the Indri is even higher!

Over the next 3 hours we continued walking, and sometimes bushwhacking, through the forest, ticking off new birds. As the time with Luc was drawing to an end we encountered another small group of Indris, but this time the experience was different. Having started out the day at 6:30, we were among a very small number of others within the park. But as the day progressed, more and more people arrived; some as part of a long day trip from Antananarivo. Instead of just the 3 of us sharing in the experience with this amazing animal, there were at least 10 others, and as we left the lemurs behind, we must have passed 20-30 people who were on their way up the trail to have a view. We reached a point along the trail where several people had stopped to look at something. Instead of following the group, Luc directed us into the forest, off-trail, and within 20 yards he was pointing out a Red-Breatsed Coua, a terrestrial endemic and much sought-after bird in the park. The large group of people showed absolutely no interest in birds, so we had the coua all to ourselves for a good 10 minutes. As we left the coua behind we quickly found what the others had been watching. A group of 6-7 Diademed Sifakas (thought by many to be the most beautiful of all the lemurs) was in the trees above the trail. I had only a quick look as they continued deeper into the forest and out of sight from those standing along the trail. We, however, were being led by Luc, the master of the forest, and he quickly told us to jump down into a deep gully, up the other side, through tangled vines and over protruding roots to follow the animals. Within moments we had found the Sifakas sitting together, busy feeding on seeds that covered the forest floor. Completely uninterested in us, we were able to approach within just a couple yards where we stayed and watched in awe.

Our morning with Luc was finished and in the end we had seen 26 species of birds (all lifers for me), and four lemur species (Indri, Common Brown, Bamboo, and Diademed Sifaka). The three of us parted ways and I headed back to my camp where I took a much needed two hour nap. Around 4:30 I headed back down the road to Pedro’s guesthouse where I had an early dinner and where we met up again with Luc for the night walk through Parc Mitsinjo, the private reserve where I was camping.

Almost immediately Luc had found a Leaf-tailed Gekko along the trail, quickly followed by a pair of Leaf Chameleons, and then a Snub-Tailed Chameleon. We spent the next hour and a half in pitch-blackness, guided up and down the hillsides only by our flashlights. In the end, we had seen 4 more lemur species (Hairy-Eared Dwarf, Wooly, Greater Dwarf, and Goodman’s Mouse Lemur), two Malagasy Spotted Tree Frogs, and at least one an Elephant-Eared Chameleon.