After the chaos of our Tana departure, the trip to Antsirabe is fairly orderly. The road is in excellent condition and it's its constant meanderings around the hills of the Central Highlands that stretch out the journey time. Of course we have a totally unnecessary food break, but it's good to be reminded at times that I'm still in Africa. We pass numerous examples of terracing, as well as the curiously square buildings that speak of Asia rather than the circular affairs I've been used to seeing over the last few months. I spot adverts for Baby Foot, which I guess must be the local expression for foosball. I'm surprised by the number of cyclists on the road, given some of the gradients, but the tarmac's so good that going by bike must be an attractive ... read more

A four hour drive down a dusty and uneven road takes us to a river crossing that's five minutes from our camp. We squeeze nine into the car via the simple expedient of the guide sitting astride the gearstrick. The camp is the focal point of every white person I've seen since leaving Antsirabe, plus a few more. We have an entire afternoon to ourselves, during which I foolishly allow myself to be drawn into a game of poker with the two girls who live on Mayotte. It seems like they've spent many evenings on the island doing precisely this, and I'm cleaned out twice. They cruelly teach me the French phrase "King of Petrol", meaning someone with lots of money. We have a further game after dinner, with exactly the same result. The following morning ... read more

Miandrivazo is where our expedition down the river Tsiribihina will begin, and we troop down to the bank where there's a gaggle of adults and kids waiting, as if for the launch of a new liner. One of the kids is wearing a "Titanic" cap. Our transport for the next three days will be pirogues, dug-out canoes seating five with a piroguier at the back and often the front seat occupied by a paddler. Another guy and a woman join the crew, though they do end up doing some work, unlike the guide's girlfriend. Our seats are folded-over foam mattresses on wooden slats - we'll later use the mattresses in our tents. The piroguier in my boat looks in decent shape but his counterpart is whippet-thin, with no discernible fat (or muscle). It's not an auspicious ... read more

Rice paddies. Rickshaws. Names full to bursting with syllables. Old European guys with young local girls. More to the point, facial features. Even if archaeological evidence didn't provide a scientific confirmation, one would know that the roots of the Malagasy people lie far to the east, in what is now Indonesia and Malaysia. In other words, Madagascar was first settled by people from thousands of kilometres away rather than the somewhat closer inhabitants of mainland Africa. This is just one aspect of what makes it such an intriguing country - even now, the highlanders are an Asian culture speaking French in a geographically African location. I've had Madagascar on my mind for a while, but only in the last couple of years has it become an essential to-do if I ever travelled through Africa. Lemurs and ... read more

The appeal of a hostel inside a game reserve is too much to resist so I make my way to Sondzela Backpackers inside Mlilwane National Park. Though the sign saying "For international guests only" smacks of an apartheid that seems wholly unnecessary, I see several warthog and an antelope on my short walk from the park gate to the accommodation, which proves to be only a taster for what's to come. The grounds are gorgeous, the main building and swimming pool being the hub of the hostel with rondavels a little further away. A resident ostrich rarely strays far, and a family of warthog put in regular appearances. The hostel is an adjunct to the main camp, a 15 minute walk away and home to more expensive accommodation as well as a shop and restaurant. Tame ... read more