Madagascar is an unclassifiable country. Here, we leave behind the landmarks we've acquired elsewhere in Africa. With its infinite landscapes and faces, peoples and customs, this island that has taken on the shape of a continent is the promise of several journeys at once.
By Eric Vancleynenbreugel
As soon as you leave the airport, the tone is set: roads are potholed, street lighting is almost non-existent, the country is very poor. It's the start of the southern winter, the thermometer is still below 20°C and the Malagasy people in the highlands have put on sweaters and hats. In Madagascar, you can leave behind all the landmarks you've acquired elsewhere in Africa. Chameleons, lemurs, strange trees... plants and animals, almost all are unique. In the streets, ethnic groups mingle. Light or dark skin, slanted or un-slanted eyes, straight or frizzy hair, some twenty different peoples make up the population. Customs, dominated by taboos (fady) and the cult of the dead, betray influences from Asia, Oceania, Africa and even Europe.
In Tananarive, we find the same human kaleidoscope. This is the stronghold of the Merina ethnic group, of Indonesian origin. The capital's geography is a tangled web of alleyways nestled between lakes and rice paddies. Sprawling, the city originally stretched over 12 sacred hills, each belonging to a different king. Traffic jammed, disorganized, with no real center, it's sometimes hard to say whether you like it or not. Nevertheless, I love the upper town, with its staircases, panoramic views and the Queen's palace. A quick tour of the craft markets before hitting the road.
Antsirabe rickshaw
170 km, or 3 hours on the country's «best» road, the N7, to reach Antsirabe and the mythical Hautes Terres. They are the soul and, above all, the granary of the island. Perched at an average altitude of 1,200 metres, they occupy almost three-quarters of the country's surface area. The town, renowned for its thermal springs, is perched at an altitude of 1,500 metres, and sometimes shivers during the southern winter. It's also the capital of the rickshaw (posy-posy), introduced a century ago by the Chinese. There are over 5,000 of them, taking children to school, women to market, men to work... A ride costs just 500 ariary (a few cents!). But not just anyone can become a «shooter»: you need to pass a serious highway code test.
The landscape is gradually being transformed into a strange mosaic of bare relief, plains and hollows. The forest that once covered the plateaus has all but disappeared, and the remnants are under attack from charcoal burners. This is evidenced by the sacks piled up along the roadsides, ready to be sold or loaded onto bush cabs. The resulting erosion alters the landscape, revealing the laterite that makes up the island's soil and creating immense «lavakas». A Malagasy term used by scientists to describe the deep gullies created by erosion. In some places, blood-colored canyons, totally barren, cut into the soil. The phenomenon is not about to stop, as charcoal remains the only domestic fuel. In winter, the evenings are rather chilly in the highlands, and people gather around small fires or braziers. These are the only lights in the rural night in a country where 80% of the population has no electricity!
Where the world of the dead begins
Small Malagasy houses punctuate the landscape with their cubic shapes. With their red earth walls, thatched roofs and varangues for drying crops, they all face north-south. There are no openings to the east, and no chimneys: evil spirits could enter. Beyond the «fady» (taboo), the absence of a chimney serves above all to protect the timber from termites. As evidenced by the long trails of soot that cover the facades above the windows, the houses are smoky. For the Malagasy, the dead are always present and active. It is therefore necessary to conciliate their benevolence and respect a number of rites and prohibitions. For example, certain peaks in the highlands are considered to belong to the world of the dead, and no one ventures there. On the plateaux, the Merina ethnic group still practice «famadihana», the turning over of the dead. To attend, you need to come between July and September. The ceremony only takes place every 3 or 5 years, or even longer for poorer families, as it can weigh heavily on the budget. Tradition dictates that not only relatives, but all the villagers - sometimes several thousand people - are invited to a grand meal. A lot of rum is drunk - even the women - and dancing takes place. The next day, the festivities resume, and in the afternoon, the sons-in-law have to kill a zebu before opening the tomb. The bones are then washed, walked around and wrapped in a new shroud. A sure sign: the more the deceased has been loved and respected, the more cloth is added!
Trekking at altitude is the best way to meet the local people. You'll meet them on the paths, in the fields, in the village... Between the hills, the rice paddies open up in wide staircases, in all shades of green and red. Sublime!
As is often the case in Africa, it's the human encounters that make the greatest impression. The Red Island is not very touristy, and many villagers are surprised and fascinated by the arrival of Europeans. Children sometimes cry because you're the first white person they've seen! Sometimes shy but never closed-minded, the Malagasy enjoy chatting with the Vazahas. Literally, the «pirates», the first Europeans to settle on the island.
Natural shower
To reach the west of the island, the roads become more and more improbable, then become broken tracks. The kilometers don't go by very quickly. This allows you to take in the sights and sounds of life, the stalls lining the roads and the chance to stop and refresh yourself in a stall selling «alcoholic» drinks (rum, wine) or «hygienic» drinks (beer and soft drinks). Only the "taxi-brousse" (bush cabs) seem to defy the poor state of the network, zipping through the villages like lightning, crowded and overloaded with a motley assortment of goods.
The last few kilometers are even bumpier, the ruts are now ditches! At last, the banks of the Tsiribihina River and the end of the ‘African massage’. Barges are lined up on the banks, ready to make their way down the river to the ocean. We embark on a voyage within a voyage, a contemplative journey. The red-water river is overlooked by steep hills where a gallery forest still thrives. Zigzagging from bank to bank to avoid running aground, the boat offers just enough comfort to enjoy the scenery and observe the wildlife: birds, crocodiles on the banks and lemurs, at ease in any situation, on the ground or in the trees. At dusk, the barge docks on a wide sandbank to set up the tents on the edge of the forest. With a campfire, some singing and a little rum, it's a beautiful evening, lit up by a full moon and thousands of stars.
In the morning, head for the other bank: a waterfall cascades down from the plateau into a turquoise basin, just 100 metres from the Tsiribihina. Perfect for a refreshing dip before resuming navigation. After the forest, the river flows through fields. We stop off in a village, where smiling children take us by the hand. The small market, colorful and fragrant, is a tableau of scenes from life: women get their hair done next to the fish merchant, others have their make-up done, children run around. At the end of the village, a small tobacco factory with women of all ages. You can see a certain sadness on the faces of the older women, worn out by this arduous job.
The needles of heaven
The river then stretches ever further, in some places a kilometer wide! After 3 days' navigation, Belo is in sight. This stage marks the return to the rough tracks, towards another of Madagascar's natural jewels. To do this, we still have to put the 4×4 on a ferry to cross the river before heading into the bush.
One hundred kilometers north of Belo, the Tsingy de Bemaraha National Park is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The Tsingy are veritable natural cathedrals. Millions of years old limestone, slowly eroded by the rains, forms a dense, difficult-to-penetrate network, sculpted into blades, sometimes rising 100 metres to the sky. Narrow faults and crevasses allow you to squeeze through, but... beware of false steps! Several routes have been laid out, all of which must be accompanied by a guide. The most adventurous (Andamozavaky) lasts 4 hours and is not for the faint-hearted or those prone to vertigo. In fact, it's a real ‘via ferrata’ that climbs the rock. You'll need harnesses and carabiners. The effort is quickly rewarded by an unforgettable view, which you can contemplate at your leisure from a number of viewpoints on the summits. In the trees surrounding the Tsingy, lemurs play, eat and leap nimbly from branch to branch. There are 13 species in the park, including the Eulemur Rufus, the sifaka - which dances when it moves on the ground - and even the famous aye-aye, a strange nocturnal animal with an ET finger. Although they develop a similar agility, lemurs are not monkeys but a suborder of primates, 90% of whose species are endemic here.
Giant's alley
South of the Tsiribihina river, another world begins: as you approach the Kirindy reserve, strange plants tower above the bush. They are the island's emblem: seven of the world's eight species of baobab grow only in Madagascar. A majestic sight, these giants seem to be planted upside down! The best time to visit the famous Allee des Baobabs is at dusk. In an almost extraterrestrial landscape, over 300 ‘Andasonia grandidieri’ rise 30 meters into the sky, some of them over 800 years old! At sunset, the spectacle becomes even more grandiose as the light turns ochre, then flamboyant, then midnight blue. Only the shadows of these giants stand out against a backdrop of newborn stars.
