While motocrycling between Cape Town
and London, Jeremy Bullard was lured serious off poste by the words of Milary
Bradt – he found himself in Madagascar
I never meant to go to Madagascar at all.
After all it was not on the Cape Town to London overland route that I was
following. However, my inability to resist bookshops en route led to my
spotting Hilary Bradt's guidebook on the nation that noted: "A motorbike
is perhaps the very best way of getting around Madagascar." It was surely
a sign, as was the fact that Hilary had visited the country over 25 times.
The firstobstacle to my change of plans was
the prohibitive cost of flying my KfM 640 Adventure there. Thankfully this
issue was quickly rectified by hiring a Honda XLGSo from Manfred at
Madagasca-on-bike.com instead. My discussions with Man fired were actually a
blessing in disguise as he gave me advice on formulating my route.
While
motocrycling between Cape Town and London, Jeremy Bullard was lured serious off
piste by the words of Milary Bradt – he found himself in Madagascar
I learned that it is impossible to do a
loop on a tarred road in Madagascar, as only four of them leave the capital
Antananarivo and they never meet again. I heard that the French built the
original roads in the 1920s and little maintenance has occurred since.
"The Farafangana-Ihosy road doesn't
exist anymore," he stated. "You cannot drive it even on a motorbike
as there are trees growing out of it... Take the RN7 to Toliara - it will be a
much more interesting route for you."
The path of my journey would take me south
tro a 1 the capital before heading east to Mananjary on the coast. From there
I'd travel due south to Farafangana, then west to Ihosy and Toliara.
It wasn't long before I discovered that the
scene in Madagascar changes constantly. As I headed south through to Ambositra,
the heavily cultivated valleys felt bare, denuded and dry. Gradually the
rolling hills became lush and much more mountainous, with bright green terraced
rice paddies clinging to the slopes. The road eventually emerged onto a high
plain before suddenly dropping down through a narrow gorge and into a tropical
rainforest.
The humidity rose sharply as I zigzagged
along the banks of the Namorona River on the approach to Ranomafana National
Park. I embraced the scents of the jungle that flowed past my face until I
couldn't stomach swallowing any more insects at that point
Fanaloka,
Ranomafana National Park, Madagascar
I lowered my visor. Once in the park, I
couldn't help but notice that all the wildlife looked like something from out
of this world. Understandable given the island's isolation for millions of
years . There are more indigenous species in Madagascar than on any other
island on the planet.
The next morning the road seemed to ripple
as it descended down a bare hillside towards a bridge spanning a river. As
there were no other vehicles in sight I straight-lined it all the way down, but
just before turning left onto the bridge a sudden uneasy feeling made me brake
hard. It was at that point I noticed there was a gaping hole on my side of the
bridge where a local had removed three steel beams for his building project (or
so I was told).
The
National Park owes its existence to the golden lemur
The Malagasy have an extraordinarily rich
culture, the legacy of African, Arab, Asian, Indonesian and European forebears.
Ancestor worship is a major part of the twenty or so ethnic groups on the
island. They believe death is more important than life because it lasts longer.
To them it therefore makes sense to spend more money on their tombs than on
their houses. I learned that the different groups all have different funeral
practices. The Merina and Betsilo clans practise the happy event of famadihana.
Four to seven years after the first burial the body is removed from the tomb
and rewrapped in a new shroud by relatives, who then walk the remains around
the tomb several times before replacing them inside.
After receiving some grief from the police
in Toliara for not stopping for the Minister of Tourism's car, I flew back to
Tana on the same plane as my motorbike, eager to ride to Diego Suarez, the
northernmost town.
"It is not a good road," Manfred
had advised earlier. "Take your time and go slowly."
Diego
Suarez
Though all the maps show it as tarred,
there were endless diversions into the bush to avoid collapsed bridges,
cavernous potholes and gorges slicing across the carriageway. It took three
hours to cover the 75km from Mampikony to fort Berge. On one bush-bashing
detour I couldn't see any potholes, just the usual ridges of mud down the
centre line. Suddenly my bike plunged downwards and clouds of red dust
enveloped me as I fell into the metre-deep pothole. The dust smelt like muddy
flour, but flowed and splashed like water, creating a bow wave as I rode
through.
Madagascar is a naturalist's dream. It has
the largest population of chameleons on the planet, and almost half of the
world's chameleon species. Of the mammals, tenrecs, fossas, and lemurs exist
nowhere else on earth. While I was in Ankarafantsika National Park, a
fat-tailed dwarf lemur poked its head out of a hole in a tree like a round-eared
Yoda from Star Wars. Amazing, but my favourite lemur was the Sifaka, a fluffy white
lemur with long legs and tail, which leaps from tree to tree at high speed.
Casa
Luna A naturalist paradise and surfer's dream land
On the island of Nosy Be I stayed in
Ambatoloaka, which has several tourist shops and a modem pharmacy, but no building
more than two stories high. I stayed on the seashore at the La Residence
Ambatoloaka. Alex, the owner, knew the Minister of Tourism and couldn't wait to
tell him that a tourist had been held up by police for making him late for his
lunch.
A few days later I meandered past sugarcane
fields to Andilana beach, which sat at the end of the tarred road. There I
found Chez Lou Lou, a restaurant sheltered under the palm trees, which had a
$14 Sunday special buffet meal over flowing with delicious fish, shrimp and
lobster, After feasting I washed it all down with a chilled Sauvignon Blanc
while gazing out over the white sand and turquoise water glinting in the
horseshoe bay.
Andilana
beach
After going 50km in the wrong direction, I
really enjoyed the 90km ride from Antsohihy to Ambanja. Both my maps said
Ambanja was on the 'main' road, with Bealanana being a right rum off it. I only
realised my mistake when the tarred road ended in the middle of a small town.
The locals looked at me quizzically, smiling and laughing, but none spoke any
French. Luckily, an English teacher by the name of Manzagasy told me where I'd
gone wrong.
"This is Bealanana. There is one small
sign to Ambanja, and if there is a truck in the way..."
Once back on track I followed the dirt road
to Ambanja, which cut through the spine of some hills near the coast. As the
route slithered its way along, I caught glimpses out towards the sea and of the
rich carpet of mangroves - I had to stop to catch my breath. I then doubled
back to take a photo, but as I was still transfixed on the view I failed to
notice that the roadside camber was very steep. As I put my foot down there was
simply no ground there to meet it. I somersaulted through the dust as my bike
crashed to the ground. Embarrassed, I leapt up to see who was watching. i
didn't have to look long as howls of laughter and clapping filled the air. An
entire Malagasy family sat on the bank behind me, rolling about with mirth. I
waved my right arm above my head and took a theatrical bow.
What
made it truly outstanding was the warmth of the Malagasy people, the variety of
landscapes and the extraordinary flora and fauna
I loved Madagascar. It is completely
different to anywhere else I have ever been. What made it truly outstanding was
the warmth of the Malagasy people, the variety of landscapes and the
extraordinary flora and fauna.
And Hilary Bradt was right... A motorbike
is best.
Plan Your Trip
Getting There
Kenya Airways (www.kenya-airways.com) and
South African Airways (www.flysaa.com) both link London to Antananarivo with
regular flights via their respective hubs of Nairobi and Johannesburg.
When to Visit
The only time to avoid motorcycling in
Madagascar is January through March, as heavy rainfall makes the roads all but
impassable in many areas.
Visas
All visitors to Madagascar need to have a
visa to enter. These can be obtained in advance at any Malagasy embassy or
consulate for the equivalent of about $38/46 for single/multiple entry options.
It is also currently possible to acquire one-month, single-entry visas upon
arrival at Ivato airport in Antananarivo for around f25, but check before
departing.
Books
Bradt's Madagascar (10th Ed, 2011) by
Hilary Bradt is as comprehensive and inspiring as ever. Lonely Planet's new
Madagascar guide (7th Ed, 2012) by Emilie Filou is due out this summer.
Find out more
Madagascar on Bike
(www.madagascar-on-bike.com)
Author tip
GPS navigation systems can certainly help
you avoid getting lost due to the poor local maps. And be sure to avoid
distractions while getting off your bike - it will save you some laundry and
plenty of embarrassment.
