This is Africa?

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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 chameleons were what had formed the initial appeal, followed by a chapter of one of Jared Diamond's books. Finally, having the good fortune to meet Quentin Bloxam - Gerald Durrell's old sidekick - in the Galapagos last year had cemented it in place on any African itinerary.

Like the Galapagos, its isolation has produced a rash of endemic species and I could only dare hope that my trip would be as full of wonder as that Galapagos visit had been. The figures are relentless. All non-flying indigenous land mammals, 41% of birds, and more than 90% of the island's reptiles are endemic. There are 12,000 species of flowering plant (85% endemic), including 1,000 orchids (more than the rest of Africa put together), though Madagascar's most famous plant - vanilla, of which it's the world's largest exporter for Coke and the ice-cream industry - is actually an introduced species. There's a moth (hemiceratoides hieroglyphica) that drinks from the tear ducts of sleeping birds. And, speaking of birds, elephant birds up to 3m tall used to roam the island until they became extinct a few centuries ago.

I have in my imagination the idea that the island is relatively untouched by tourism, the cost of getting here a barrier to many travellers. However there are a few Madagascar blogs online that suggest it is no such idyll. I wonder which of the two it will be.

The 2.5 hour flight time from Joburg on a plane that's less than half full masks the ~$760 that I've had to pay to get to the island. I'm met at the airport by a smiling taxi driver attached to the hotel that I've pre-booked. He speaks good English, quickly determining from my initial greeting that French is not a language in which I can hold up my end of a conversation. We squeeze into a charmingly dilapidated Citroen 2CV, one of many I am to see on the roads, jostling for space with Renault 4s.

I've landed in Madagascar's capital, Antananarivo, a name whose syllables just bounce off the tongue but which is referred to informally as Tana. Its streets are narrow and winding, with the city built on twelve hills. There are rice paddies in the city limits, but the mediaeval look of the place is overshadowed by the dense traffic, evidence of a population of about two million. As we chug into the centre, I'm revelling in the non-African atmosphere, if not exactly relishing the pollution - after a couple of days, my grimy finger nails tell their own story.

My chosen hotel is perched on a hillside and my bedroom windows give expansive views over Tana. The owner, a Frenchman, endures my laboured French for a couple of sentences before it gets too painful for his ears, then he switches to English.

Madagascan tourism is dominated by the French, with them contributing well over half of all tourists to the island. I have a great deal of time for the French, their constant scuffling with my own country through the ages being a perfect illustration that fighting is the first sign of love. Their contributions to human culture, starting - but not ending - at Juliette Binoche, Audrey Tatou, and Emmanuelle Beart, can't be denied by any sane person. And it's been comforting to find that La Vache Qui Rit cheese is at least as ubiquitous as Coke in Africa. But one aspect of Frenchness that's truly beyond the pale is bloody smoking, and venturing into any restaurants during my stay in Madagascar will be like a return to the Dark Ages, a long-forgotten time of sore eyes, foul-smelling clothes, and a reduced life expectancy.

Before I can leave Tana I have to burn all my camera cards to CD. I've been trying to do this for a couple of weeks now but either stupid pricing or the lack of a burner has foiled my attempts, even in South Africa, the most technologically advanced nation on the continent. So it's a pleasant surprise to pop to the Internet cafe next door and find they can burn my pictures to DVD for a nominal amount. Moreover, all the staff speak English, but the bizarrest moment occurs when one of the guys asks me where I'm from in England - I say near Middlesbrough, and he asks if there's a transporter bridge there. I doubt this is a fact that many English people know, let alone young Madagascan guys working in Internet cafes, but I can't get to the bottom of how on earth he knows this.

My wanderings around don't entirely support the WLP's view of "polite and reserved" Malagasy. Instead, I'm a target for every newspaper vendor in the city, a few hawkers (mainly of vanilla), and the occasional beggar. Tourism has been hit hard this year, by both political unrest and the global economic downturn - the main reason why tourist visas are free until the end of the year. But the hassle is fairly light overall.

However things start to change when I move on from Tana. Madagascar's standard transport is a taxi-brousse, the equivalent of a matatu/dalla-dalla/chapa etc. They have a mixed reputation for overcrowding, but I've heard nothing to suggest they could rival Ethiopia or even Mozambique. Distances are long and progress supposedly slow, which perhaps explains why the island supports 104 airports, 77 of which are unpaved.

In fact the comfort of the journey isn't the issue - I get a front seat and there's only one person per seat. What's shocking is the level of aggression of the touts at the southern taxi-brousse station. Even before we reach the compound, guys are running alongside the taxi and poking their heads in the window, shouting in French and Malagasy, which I studiously ignore. Every likely-looking passenger wandering into the area is immediately surrounded by fifteen or more shouting, grabbing, men, all trying to convince the person that their taxi-brousse is the best one. A little restraint is shown for locals, but for foreigners no quarter is given. More by luck than judgement, I go to the station with one of the hotel's taxi guys and he says he'll find me a seat, so he takes the flak. From the safety of my taxi-brousse, I watch two subsequent foreigners arrive. The first, a middle-aged French guy, is clearly not expecting this and resorts to roughly pushing the touts away, his body language radiating distress. He later ends up in my taxi-brousse and confides that not only were some of the touts drunk but he'd also been threatened with physical violence. I only attract attention from vendors, who offer items ranging from the potentially useful (e.g. biscuits) to the mildly inappropriate (e.g. Sindy dolls).

The other foreign arrival, a couple, show admirable restraint as they battle out of their taxi into the crush, but after being thwarted in his attempt to stride forward purposefully, the man cracks and starts spinning around, creating some personal space with the power of his rucksack.

It's not an edifying spectacle, with the touts themselves often nearly coming to blows. This is certainly the most intimidating transport hub I've seen in Africa. But I have my seat and am looking forward to seeing what the rest of the island has to offer.

Dull but possibly useful info
i. I paid about $760 for a return flight from Joburg to Tana on Air Madagascar. From Joburg, you only have the choice of Air Madagascar or South African Airlines. Coming from further afield, e.g. Europe, you may be able to get a (relatively) better deal.
ii. Until the end of this year, a 1-month tourist visa is free.
iii. I'd pre-arranged a pick-up from Tana airport with Justin, one of Hotel Niaouly's main taxi guys. His price (Ar30K) is more than a regular taxi guy (you can probably get a normal taxi for Ar20K) but he speaks decent English and is very helpful and informative.
iv. I stayed at Hotel Niaouly, run by Frenchman Laurent and his Malagasy wife Zho. The address is Lot VE49, Ambatovinaky, Antananarivo 101, not far from Place Rabetafika. The rooms are cheap and spotless, the staff friendly, and the restaurant good. I stayed in room 1, a double, with an ensuite bathroom and great views over Tana for Ar25K. Laurent speaks good English, the rest of the staff serviceable but hardly fluent. The vast majority of the guests are French but this may well change when Niaouly is listed in the next LP. There's free wifi. Note that the plugs have a random earth pin, but I didn't find this elsewhere in Madagascar.
v. BNI banks accept Mastercard ATM cards.
vi. The Internet cafe next to Hotel Niaouly is cheap and decent (Ar60 per minute), plus most of the staff speak English.

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Photos

View from room 1
Hotel Niaouly

View from the balcony
Hotel Niaouly

Monument aux Morts
Lac Anosy

View from room 1
Hotel Niaouly

Woody
Hotel Niaouly

Mirrors
Hotel Niaouly

Monument aux Morts
Lac Anosy

Fishing bird
Lac Anosy

Comments

[Panama Hotel]

Reminiscent
Love the photos. I can't say I've ever been to Africa, but in a weird sort of way, your piece reminded me of our neighborhood here in the Republic of Panama. Of course, the architecture and landscapes are different, but there seems from your shots to be a sense of contrast about Madagascar the same as we have here in Casco Viejo. We bought a little boutique hotel here (http://www.loscuatrotulipanes.com) and appreciate the same plants-growing-from-buildings, architectural diversity, and historical significants. That being said, Madagascar has a FAR COOLER NAME! LOL.