Edited December 2024
I never, ever, EVER! thought I’d travel to Madagascar! It just wasn’t on my radar at all – but when my friend Piu invited me to join him and his group of French paragliders to explore this amazing island, I could not say no. And since “just say yes!” has been my mantra lately, why not!
I knew nothing at all about Madagascar and hadn’t even seen the Disney movie (still haven’t, actually!) Here’s what I learned about this enchanting island:
- Madagascar is the 4th largest island in the world, and has over 23 million people.
- The language spoken is Malagasy (pronounced “Malagash”) and French. Very little English is spoken – I would’ve been struggling without my group of Frenchmen, for sure! Good thing there’s GoogleTranslate!
- The average income per person is $400. PER YEAR. That’s about a dollar a day. And although that’s considered “abject poverty” (“abject” meaning ‘to the maximum degree’) the people were among the friendliest and smiling humans I’ve come in contact with. Especially the children – many photos to follow in this post.
- Tourism is still pretty new in most parts of the country. There are ‘touristy’ places such as Nosy Be and The Avenue of the Baobabs, but I didn’t get a chance to see those. Mada (that’s what all the cool kids call it!) gets less than 300,000 tourists each year – that’s an average of less than 1000 people per day for the entire country! Compare that to the city of Paris at 34 MILLION each year, and you’ll see why Madagascar is still relatively unscathed by commercialism and Western ways…which is wonderful, amazing and beautiful.
- Over 70% of the 250,000 species of plants and animals on the island are found only on Madagascar and nowhere else on earth!
- There are over 103 different adorable species of lemur. Lemurs are only found on Mada, and two small islands off its coast.
- Madagascar is famous for vanilla beans, cloves and coffee exports, and it supplies half of the world’s sapphires.
Ok. Enough facts and figures! Madagascar was an incredible, amazing, delicious, cheap, beautiful and diverse country to visit. There’s not much tourism infrastructure like tourist buses so I was happy to be with a group that had hired a guide, a van and a driver. Hiring your own car might be best but know that the roads are basic (aka primitive) and the going is slow. But that’s ok – relax and enjoy this beautiful country!
Now can I share my photos? Ready? There are quite a few…
Walking through a rice paddy just one block off the main road, we were swarmed by these adorably charming children – there must be some secret and silent call that goes out between kids to let them know some excitement is happening, and they all came running to see the ‘vazaha‘ (white folks). They loved getting their pictures taken – posing, smiling, laughing and piling together for group pix- then off they ran, giggling and turning back to wave and smile one more time.
One of my favorite things was to just hang out on the front steps of the hotel or on a bench along the road and capture in a photo the beautiful people being busy around me. Here are some street scenes in Ambalavao. I’ve never seen such industrious people – pushing carts. Pulling carts. Hauling stuff. Driving cattle. Hammering and sawing. Leading zebus pulling flat carts loaded with lumber. Repairing ancient motorbikes. Drilling. Building. Fixing stuff. Carrying baskets on their heads. Tinkering with the old French Renault R4 🚘 cars 
from the 70s they’ve somehow inherited. Selling stuff. Walking with goats. Cooking at street stalls. Hawking pastries or fried bananas to those stalled in traffic jams. Carrying children on their backs. All accompanied by music blasting in the air from the ramshackle stands selling CDs. Bustling and hustling, Malagasy people are busy from the first light of day until sunset.
One afternoon, I was sitting on the front steps of the hotel La Residence Betsileo. Two shy and handsome young boys were surreptitiously eyeing me so I beckoned them over. We spent the next hour taking pictures of each other, making videos of us singing, and laughing and drinking sodas together. There’s no language barrier for joy… so much fun!
As in so many places I’ve visited, there are markets along every main street with vendors selling clothes, shoes, underwear, pots and pans, musical instruments, fruits and veggies, freshly slaughtered meat, sausages, teas, spices, and pretty much everything imaginable.
Bet you want to see lemurs, right? I did too. So one morning when the paragliders left to do their thing, I hopped on the local bus, basically a minivan-type vehicle that normally seats 15. I paid my 1000 airary (maybe 25 cents US?) and squeezed in with close to 25 people – an elderly man with a cane. A mother nursing her beautiful baby. Small kids perched on grown-ups knees and sitting sideways to fit in, stealing glances at me. A woman in very fancy clothes and a stunning hat. Two middle-aged women laughing and sharing stories. School children in uniform. Needless to say, I was the only vazaha. 
Every time we stopped to pick up or drop off passengers, the door was flung open to allow them to clamber in, and the guy who collected the fares from everyone shimmied up to the top of the bus to throw down parcels for those departing and catch the new packages that were tossed up to him from the newly arriving. Each time we stopped, we were swarmed by industrious women young and old selling platters of fried dough in all shapes and sizes: triangular fried meat pies, “mofo” fritters, veggie packets, fried bananas, donuts covered with sugar, fried chicken, baskets of fresh lychee still on the branches, mangoes and bananas. They pushed and elbowed their way to be closest to the van’s open windows, shouting “pok pok!” “mango!” and “lychee!”, hoping to make a sale or two. This four-mile/six km ride took an hour. And was pure delight.
I finally arrived at my destination – a lemur preserve called D’Anja Park. At the entry, I paid a small fee and was assigned a local guide to lead me through the gorgeous wild park, as you’re not permitted to enter alone. We hiked with a ‘spotter’ who went ahead of us to find lemurs, spiders, lizards and chameleons. My guide was a young cheerful man from the area, and he was happy to practice his English with me. There were only a few other people in the park that day, so we had the place nearly to ourselves for a few hours.
The preserve was perfumed with coriander and lime in the warm breeze. We hiked up craggy rocks, into dark caves, to the top of a lookout, deep into the forest, under gigantic intricately woven spider webs, and walked across wobbly stepping stones to cross a small river. My guide showed me where human remains were buried under an overhanging rock. We saw colorful chameleons, miniscule crunchy looking prehistoric lizards, flamboyant exotic birds, and soooo many lemurs! They frolicked, chased, played, scampered, and swung from the trees overhead. Babies piggybacked on their mommas, while the teenager lemurs tumbled and raced. Their distinctive calls filled the air as they hooted and howled in the treetops. (here’s a YouTube clip of the sounds…https://youtu.be/IIrtY2mEiQk)
And the iconic baobab trees! Synonymous with Madagascar, as much as lemurs. These trees are deciduous (meaning they shed their leaves) and they are succulents – able to store water in their trunk (up to 120,000 liters or 32,000 gallons) to endure harsh drought conditions. Known as “the tree of life”, they can live for 5,000 years, grow up to 100 feet high (30 meters) and can be over 50 meters in circumference! (that’s 165 feet!) And although I didn’t get to see the famous Avenue of the Baobabs (yes, I’m a little salty about that…) we did stop to see, admire, hug and take photos of these magnificent and stately trees.
And of course there was paragliding. 
The guys went every day, rising early to hike up and catch the best thermals. I flew twice – once in Saint Augustin and once in Camp Catta after hiking up a very tough, very hot trail to get to the takeoff. Local teenage boys miraculously appeared and offered to carry the heavy paraglider backpacks up the steep and rocky trail, usually barefoot. They were paid a couple of dollars – well worth it for us! We flew over ancient graveyards covered with boulders and rocks. Sailed silently over the peaceful ocean. Glided over the clustered villages below. Our local guide, Amédé, was a Malagasy paraglilder who knew all the spots for good flying. What a great guy – always smiling and laughing – and taking a million photos!
To get to one of the takeoffs in Toliara from Saint Augustin, we took small wooden boats called “pirogues” across the bay. Piloted by sun-weathered locals, these hollowed-out vessels were carved of wood with colorful billowing sails of patched fabric and homemade rope.
And what about the food? What was it like? Zebu (a humpback cattle) was offered nearly everywhere, as was chicken and lamb. Rice and fresh veggies were on every plate. The food on the coast was incredible! One afternoon we were feasting on amazing seafood on a secluded strip of beach at a restaurant most certainly owned by a man who was either a pirate or a fugitive from the law.
Fresh octopus, shrimp and filleted fish, straight out of the ocean just moments ago. Our hotel in Saint Augustin, La Paradis d’ Esperance, served family-style platters of freshly caught fish, steaming bowls of rice, locally grown vegetables and exotic fruits. (We were also lucky to hear live music there one night – sooooo much fun! )
Such a kaleidoscope of memories from this incredible, colorful country! Playing a game of petanque (kind of like bocce ball or lawn bowling, I guess!) and dancing with the locals. Seeing the fresh catch of the day on the beach as it was hauled in. Sitting with a young Malagasy man wearing a Colorado Nuggets basketball jersey and playing songs for him off my phone as he asked excitedly, “who’s that? which song is that?” as we jammed to Queen, Beyonce, and One Republic while he wrote down the information to find the songs later to add to his collection.
Watching dried flowers being pressed into handmade paper by ever-so-patient women at a paper-making atelier. Meeting Claudette, the shy and beautiful blind masseuse with a charming musical laugh and perfect teeth at our hut stay in Tsarasoa in Andringitra National Park. Enjoying the swarms of kids trying to help with the parachutes, then posing for photos before giggling and scampering off. Hiking in the crazy G.D. heat to a beautiful cool freshwater swimming hole. Buying vanilla beans from a shady dude we met on the highway with a gold tooth, gold necklaces and a briefcase full of vanilla baggies. Enjoying the colors, smells and sounds of a foreign land. Visiting the famous weekly zebu cattle market where ranchers from all over the country walk for days to get their zebu to the market for buying, trading, breeding and slaughtering, and learning how zebu horns are made into utensils, jewelry and bowls. These are the memories I have of my three weeks in Madagascar. It was an amazing, incredible country, full of friendly and industrious people, gorgeous scenery and delicious food.
So go. Say yes.
I highly recommend it.
Mankafy! (enjoy!)
It seems that the more places I see and experience, the bigger I realize the world to be. The more I become of aware of, the more I realize how relatively little I know of it, how many places I still have to go, and the more there is to learn! Maybe that’s enlightenment enough; to know that there is no final resting place of the mind, no smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom…is realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go. ~ Anthony Bourdain
