There are places in the world that attract us in a special way and don't let us go anymore. Trigger for this could be spectacular landscapes, adventurous trails and roads or unusual encounters with people. In Madagascar it's a bit of everything. That's why we return again and again.
Two years have passed since the last time and yet we feel immediately at home. The Eau Vive-murals on the house wall, the white weathered kilometer stone on the edge of the rice field, the motley mess of people and goods along the road, the smoke of the charcoal fire in the air. Undoubtedly Africa, but also quite a big part Asia. Friendly, serene faces that welcome us and somewhere out there a great wilderness. No Big Five, but full of animals found nowhere else in the world. It's amazing to be back and we look forward to discover the country again with our three guests from Switzerland during almost four weeks.
The first leg of our journey takes us for a several days hike to the south. On the weekly market we buy the last little things for our four day trek. An immersion in the Malagasy everyday: Dried fish, roasted grasshoppers, artfully piled mountains of tomatoes and beans, ducks and chickens next to pineapples and oranges. And in between, always laughing and waving Malagasies. Few things seem to have changed since we were last here. Despite poverty and grievances in the country, the Malagasy bear their fate with dignity and share their joy of life with the same warmth as ever.
Over a rough dirt track through an idyllic mountain valley full of rice fields we reach the starting point of our trek. Here we get to know our guides and porters who will accompany us the next few days. Silvan, an elderly Malagasy from the Betsileo tribe climbs ahead of us the next day. Mora-Mora - slowly, slowly, we put one foot before the other on the well-maintained hiking trail. Mora mora - it will soon become the motto of the whole trip. Take it easy, hassle and stress are unknown to the Madagascans. Gladly we immerse into this timelessness, listening to the stories of "autrefois" which are bringing us a deep insight to the way of thinking and the way of life of the Malagasy people. At 2000 meters we set up the tents, the darkness fills with cold. A fire is lit, a small guitar tuned, an ancient rhythm clapped, sang and danced. Sparks in the night, chilling. High above us the Milky Way, a silver ribbon in the black sky. Shooting stars, we stay in our very own "Million Star" hotel.
In the morning frost covers the tents. The blades of grass are glistening in the rising sun. 600 meters we climb, mora-mora. Along massive granite rocks and through a high valley we reach the summit. 360 ° panoramic view, almost touching the sky. Far below us the endless dusty south.
The following day we cross an ethnic boundary, change from the country of the Betsileo, the skillfully rice terrace farmers, in that of the Bara, the proud cattlemen. The landscape becomes drier. Yellow steppe grass, the first succulents and aloes grow among the rocks and soon Catta lemurs are hopping around us.
Two driving days bring us from the highlands to the west coast. The red plastered brick houses give way for the reeds and banana leaves huts of the coastal regions. First Baobabs reflect in the bright green rice fields, and then we have already the sound of the waves in the ear and the sea salt on the skin.
After four hours in a motorboat we reach a small lodge on a beautiful beach at the edge of a Vezo fishing village. We got to know the place a few years ago on one of our first Madagascar travels. We still remember well how we then met the Vezo nomads. Suddenly, on the horizon we saw a small fleet of sailing pirogues which were quickly approaching, and while we were still standing amazed on the beach, people unload their whole household from the dug-out canoes, rammed one of the paddles in the sand and stretched the sail over it as a tent. Fascinated, we watched as they make themselves at home within minutes. Even today, the Vezo are still on the way, traveling the coast between Tulear and Maintirano during the austral winter, living from and with the sea. On one of the islands we meet a group of them, watch how they are salting the caught fish, for exchanging it later in the markets up-country for rice. We watch as they mend their nets, as they go squid hunting with the harpoon in shallow water or simply sleep the hot midday hours in the shade of the sails - mora-mora. The children build small pirogues on the beach and learn at the same time important things for their future. But for how long the Vezo can get their free nomadic life yet? Again the ancient way of life is more and more threatened from climate change and environmental destruction.
A little bit further inland is a Baobab forest. Mahazanga, our guide tells us with a wink: "When the Creator created the baobabs, they just not behave like real trees. They always walked around at night and then the next morning weren't no longer where they should be. Finally, God had enough of this untreelikely behavior, tore the trees out of the ground and put them upside down again. Therefore, they look as if they put their roots in the air." Now we are facing a particularly impressive specimen. Twenty meter circumference measures the trunk, a baobab grows annually about fifty centimeters. A brief silence while we all are making mental arithmtic. 1400 years - can this be? No wonder that this tree is sacred. The more than eighty years old guardian of the tree, which accompanies us, kneels down laboriously at the foot of the colossus, digs between the roots after a few old coins that we place one after the other back to earth. A whistle through his fingers, and then, half singing, half talking, he asks for the fulfillment of our desires: Bonheur, santé, et un bon voyage. From now on, nothing can go wrong.
And indeed, during the next few days the lemurs sit almost on the camera lens. On hikes through the dry forest, we see the whole range of Madagascar's fantastic and unique wildlife. Sifakas jump only a few meters away from us through the trees, the Lepilemur winks us sleeply with his big eyes. The mouse lemur sticks his head out of the tree's cave, wobbling funny his ears and also the various chameleons show themself from the most beautiful side. On day and night hikes we explore the area around our camp, founded by an NGO and now operated with the locals. Spacious covered safari tents in the midst of the forest, sustainable ecotourism out of a picture book.
The journey to the Tsingy is infamous. We remember us well, how we have sworn upon the soft sand, itchy dust and the heat when we rode this route with our bikes a few years ago. Even with the 4x4 the hundred kilometer till Bekopaka are still a micro adventure. Especially with the river crossings of Tsiribihina and Manambolo you get the real Africa feeling and they show also the creativity of Madagascans. The fuel tank of the pontoons is attached as a canister on a thin rope in the air, while a thin PVC tube acts as a conduit to the engine. What looks criminal, works perfectly for years.
The Tsingy de Bemeraha are an UNESCO world natural heritage of Madagascar, and rightly so. A bizarre prehistoric world that nature has created with the aid of water and wind, out of fossilized coral reefs and sediments, over millions of years. We are waiting for the sunset. The last rays sweep over the sharp needles of the karst landscape, flooding over pinnacles and towers, casting shadows in crevices and ravines. The sunset brings the gray stone to glow and then the twilight flows through, as a memory of a dark wave on the hard reef, and finally releases the contours in the darkness.
With a small private Cessna we fly back to the highlands. A fascinating view of the Tsingy, then on wide brown land, a few isolated forest islands. Again and again rises smoke, fire clearance. Erosion, the major rivers look like rust brown ribbons. Population growth takes its toll.
Already our journey is coming to an end. The last three days we spend in a mountain rain forest near Tana. It's one of the last reserves where the singing Indri, the largest lemur of Madagascar lives. Unlike the Indri in the overcrowded Perinet reserve, it is almost black here - a rarity. Even the shy and quick Diademsifakas we finally get to see the last day. But almost as exciting is the visit to the nearby highland village where we get another close-up experience to the simple life and the humble Madagascans.
Finally, we are back at the airport in Tana. Despite Mora-Mora, the time went by far too fast and the farewell is not easy. We couldn't have wished a more perfect pioneering tour group for our west coast trip. Regine, Silvia and Heinz: We have spent a great time with you!
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