Day 21 - Last Day in Madagascar

We caught a taxi to the Lemur Park, which, for good reason, is the number 1 attraction in Tana. Taking one last ride through the markets was also interesting. The drivers are always careful to ensure that our doors are locked and they don't like me bring in out my camera for pictures. Lemurs are on display from around the island and Wilson, our guide, not the volleyball was excellent. First we were introduced to the cockerels lemur from the east coast named after a French dude so I'm probably spelling this incorrectly. This was a smaller lemur not the least bit shy that would dance along the ground before jumping in a tree. The sifakas we were introduced to were new to us. Nicola says they were some kind of crested sifaka, black or white or something. He showed us a couple of nocturnal lemurs who were both sleeping in a hole with their bums toward us. And of course, there were the ever present brown lemurs scavenging around the outdoor tables where we shared a big beer after enjoying our walk. They were of particular interest to the young daughters of a couple at the other table. A black woman who I believe was with them had no qualms about feeding them even though signs stated it was strictly forbidden.

The return drive to our hotel took about half the time it took going out. Our driver wanted to drive us out to the airport for 40 ariary's  however Nicola was hoping for a car in better condition. The seats in this one had almost no padding and the back axel made a disturbing clunking noise. That said I felt comfortable with the guy’s driving which may be more important than the car’s condition.

Upon our return, we went for coffee at the Colbert Hotel and then went searching for one of the interesting chess sets we'd seen. Instead we found an art gallery featuring local artists who also offered to do portraits. We did find one of people walking away from the artist down a road. Two were women with baskets on their heads, a very common sight in Madagascar making the painting not only a piece of art but a nice keep sake. One of the artists brought a list of prices and when we said we were interested in one, much excitement was generated among the artists at the front. We asked for a tube to transport it and three of the young men quickly became busy with constructing one. Then the artist of the painting appeared and wrote something on a card for us. I asked if I could take his picture to which he readily agreed positioning himself beneath one of his own, larger paintings. A receipt was produced and the transaction completed.

We returned to the Kudeta restaurant for one last, very enjoyable dinner in Tana. Because we had felt somewhat ill at ease walking the block from the restaurant to our hotel the previous night, we took a taxi. Then, we gathered our bags from the hotel and I sent the doorman to get a taxi. He returned with one in even worse condition than the one we'd taken that afternoon. This one’s headlights were difficult to detect not only for us but also for oncoming cars as the driver kept flicking his lights at them to make sure they saw us. After passing a truck and two cars, I asked him to slow down to which he became outraged but the matter was mute. We had arrived at the airport.

Madagascar then played one more trick on me. As we were standing in line, a young man surreptitiously showed me 20 Euros in coins. He said he would exchange these for 60,000 Ariarys which would have been a good exchange rate. He counted the coins in front of me twice which should have given me a clue. I knew that once we were through security, my Ariarys would be worthless and as far as I could see the currency exchange office was closed. So, I agreed to the deal. I gave him the 60,000 and he gave me the coins. We found the priority line for checking in and were through immigration in about half an hour. (There were about five or six people in front of us and one immigration agent who was trained in the fine art of dithering.). Then it was onto the security check which actually included an x-Ray machine a metal detector. It was when I was picking up the coins I'd deposited in the tray that I discovered that none of the two Euro coins he'd shown me in his hand had made the journey to mine. I had to laugh. “You can't trust anyone,” M had told us. He also told us that not trusting anyone was exhausting. According to a Financial Times report, Madagascar is the seventh poorest country in the world. It also has the seventh highest murder rate in the world. Enter at your own risk.

Day 20 - Tamatave and Tana

Nicola and I were really nervous about getting to Tana before our Air France flight so Nicola had looked into the possibility of a bus. K had talked to her walking friends who said we should trust that the flight on the 21st would leave on time. We didn't so I phoned Air Madagascar to see if I could get on the afternoon flight that day. He said that I should go to the airport at about 11:30 for a 1:30 flight. K looked it up on the website and said the plane wasn't leaving until 2:30 so we didn't need to be there until 12:30.
Before leaving we said good-bye to M at the plant. We shook hands and I told him that we would likely see us again that night and then we headed on our way. I was getting very nervous about getting a seat on the flight when my phone rang at 12:50. It was the attendant from Air Madagascar who asked where we were. I said that we were just arriving at the airport. She told me that she could wait a minute but if we didn't arrive right away, she was going to give away our tickets. I couldn't believe it. The guy at Air Madagascar, the same one who'd been yelled at by the Frenchman had reserved us a ticket on that flight. We were going to make it after all. K seemed pretty sad to see us go but we really needed to get on that Air France flight.
The plane was small, 25 seats by Nicola’s count, three to a row, two on one seat, one on the other. As a twin prop we got excellent views of the landscape. Much of the land around Tamatave was forested but became more denuded the close we got to Tana.
The Tana Hotel was modern and the room was nicer than the Colbert however it was missing some of ambience so we made a trip over for some juice in their Café. Then we went out for some more souvenir shopping. Much of the neighbourhood we'd already scoped but new to us were the jewelry stores located right nearby. Nicola had noticed some funky stuff in display cabinets and the Hotel Colbert. These stores featured only high end merchandise heavy with gold and chunky. I did notice a single black pearl on chain and Nicola suggested we enquire. Almost two million ariary or $1400. He told me that the pearl was from Tahiti and very valuable. Why would I want to buy a pearl necklace from Tahiti in Madagascar? When he could see I wasn't interested he came back with a pledge to give us a deal but it could never be enough of a deal.
Dinner was supposed to be at the Kudeta which was obviously French and filled with expats. Standing in the doorway, we were asked if we had reservations. When we said no, they told us we were full. We must have had faces of utter dejection (probably because we had no idea where else we would go) they suggested that we could sit at the bar and they would find us a table. Five minutes later, we were given one in the bar. The food was excellent and the atmosphere excellent as the restaurant is of a quality that would be competitive almost anywhere.
Walking home in the dark made us a bit nervous as there are no street lights and the city is not known for being safe.

Day 19 - Tamatave

We returned to the clinic in the plant where the doctor pronounced Nicola’s wound about healed and complemented her on her healing powers. During the ambulance ride we attempted to convince the paramedic to come work in Canada. She says she likes small towns and civil society.

Lunch at the old yacht club now tennis club although no one was playing tennis. There were some kids in the swimming pool. Nicola did notice some trophies in the clubhouse dating from the 50s. Then it was back to the market to shop for more souvenirs. Nicola spent most of her time comparing the quality of embroidery on table cloths.

At 5:30 I received text from Air Madagascar aka Air Maybe informing us that our plane was cancelled for the next day and was rescheduled for the 21st at 7:30, the same evening our Air France flight was due to leave. Not wanting to risk missing the Air France flight and so all the other flights down the line, we decided to attempt a change the next day.

We treated our generous hosts to dinner that evening at a restaurant built where the railway station once functioned. Of note, was the bar built from a car stopped on the narrow gauge tracks. The following evening they'd advertised a going back to school party complete with a wet t-shirt contest.

Romeo, the driver, finished a long day that started in the morning with M and ended with us at a little after nine.

Day 18 -Tamatave

The day began with Nicola asking me to examine a red, pussy mark on her stomach. It looked like a boil only it had this big, black head on the end. Having just performed minor surgery in my foot by removing a sliver that was aggravated I thought I'd make a stab at Nicola's problem. Thirty seconds of examination told me that this required intervention beyond my pay scale so the question was, do we have someone look at it here or wait till we get back to Canada. Nicola showed it to K who was concerned it might to a worm which freaked Nicola out so when asked if she would rather see someone later in the afternoon at the clinic or right away in the plant, she chose the plant. This required that the ambulance pick us up from the gate and take us to the clinic. However, when we arrived there was a Ford Explorer and Suzanne and to drive us. The ambulance wasn't available. It took surprisingly long to drive around the compound to the clinic. We passed three huge stacks of coal, sulphur and limestone all involved in the process. We also passed the the railway depot where these supplies are offloaded. We were able to see very little of the plant that it's made up of pipes and five story structure that looks like a building at night. 

Interestingly, the clinic is the least permanent of the buildings composed of a work trailers. After filling out the various forms, Nicola saw a young female doctor from South Africa and received excellent treatment. The wound was lanced and then cleaned. The diagnosis was a spider bite which is what I'd thought was the most likely problem after a cursory internet diagnosis. Our return ride was in the ambulance with another young South African woman who was working as a paramedic. She said that she would never travel Madagascar. Instead, on her holidays, she liked to go to Mauritius. She did not like the dangerous living conditions of her own country and preferred to visit countries where her life was not in danger such as Botswana and Zimbabwe.

Lunch at Ocean 501 where we sat on the beach and watched the locals. Again with the older white dudes and their young Malagasy chicks, one guy in his sixties with a four year old. A couple of young guys competing in the thirty metre dash on the beautiful white sand. A fisherman heading out in his pirogue in the same direction as a tanker anchored off-shore.

We did stopped for chocolates at Roberts centred in Tana. They were truly exceptional. The company had competed in some international competition in France and won a bunch of awards. According to the consensus, it was the freshness of the ingredients that really made then distinctive.

Our final destination was the market where we negotiated in a stall for emeralds. K had obviously scoped this out for us. The owner was a 20 something woman who showed us a couple of groups of stones. One group was larger and not of the same high quality of the other. Nicola picked the largest of the second group with only one small flaw, well minuscule because we were looking at it through a jewellers magnifying glass. K jokingly reprimanded the girl for not having more on hand as she has talked to the husband earlier. That said, Nicola was happy with her selection and with the help of K, we negotiated a price which K said was good and I didn't think possible.

Our final job of the day was to change the reservation for our flight that was to leave at 7 o'clock on the 22nd just a few hours before we are to catch the Air France flight to Amsterdam. Both M and the ambulance attendant said that Air Madagascar flights could not be relied upon. K said that they liked to fill their planes and so will cancel some flights or reroute then to ensure that happens. She and M had recently been rerouted on a flight from Nosy Be. Nicola said that it was referred to as Air Maybe in the travel guide.

The building where their offices are housed has no signs on the outside and the only indication of its identity on the inside was a little Air Madagascar flag on each of the three desks where clerks can attend to their clients. After some wait, we sat in front of a younger man who knew enough English to make communication clear. He was not the least upset about being yelled at by a previous customer. In fact,he had no problem changing our flight to the 21st from the 22nd. The only problem was noticed by K who saw on the print out that there was no confirmation on that flight.

Day 17 – Manda Beach

We met K for breakfast in our hotel as it was considerable nicer than hers as we experienced the night before. Then, we caught a tuk tuk to Manda Beach which we had seen from the point of land the day before. After getting out of the tuk tuk, we were immediately mobbed by a group of guys trying to sell us on their tour of the reef in a pirogue. After we negotiated the price on the tour, the lead guy, short, slim, in his early 20s and wearing large Ray-Bans, immediately proceeded to sell us lunch that would be ready when we returned. Eventually we agreed on a price for lobster that was higher than the better restaurants we'd frequented. The pirogue is a hollowed out log often with one pontoon that can be fitted out with a sail. It is from these boats that the people fish and take tourists out to see the reef. We all sat in row with me at the back. When the water became particularly shallow I would get out however this was not encouraged because there are all sorts of nasties in the water there like sea snakes and spiny sea urchins. We had two guides, one at the front of the boat and one at the back, neither was the dude in the Ray-Bans. Both were in the early 20s and wore long shorts and a t-shirt, one with pants he was constantly tugging to keep up and the other of a more muscular build. . We weren't in the water long before both guides got out and started searching for creatures. They first pulled out a creature “droopy pants” called a serpent which means snake in French but was more likely a sea cucumber because it could suck its “head” back into its body, a lovely sight. Then he showed us a dead piece of coral and then a live piece, both of which he threw back into the water. Then the muscular dude pulled a small fish out from under a rock and plopped it into the boat where it proceeded to flop around until he killed it with the end of his shovel. (To be sold I would guess.). Then there was the sea urchin that sucked itself into the front of the boat only to be tossed off later. And surprisingly, there's very little coral and very few creatures left alive on the reef.

Much to our surprise, lunch was not ready when we returned to the beach. We were given two chaise longs and a bench to sit on under an umbrella and were then inundated with people selling us many different products but mostly food. K is quite adventurous with local cooking so we stopped one of the ladies carrying around a tray of such. She was quickly joined by others. On display was a dark brown stringy cookies sized item which turned out to be baked coconut which was sweet and really delicious. Then there was a honey flavoured cookie with two sides and a filled with some kind of nut. We tried a number of fried, donut style products all with fillings, none of the sugary kind at Tim Hortons however I have no idea what they were. Also for sale were live chickens with their feet tied to a stick being carried around by a man of shorter stature and ragged clothing. I was offered one for purchase however declined. We also declined the coconuts, the inflatable toys, sea shells, and shrimp.

When the lobsters finally arrived, they appeared suspiciously like the jumbo prawns I'd eaten at Vakona Lodge with a more rustic presentation. That said, they tasted fabulous as were the mixed vegetables. The wind and rain picked up just as we finished eating and the guy in charge of the umbrellas tried to use some as a wind break but we were done and it was time to head back to our hotel and then Tamatave but not without one more altercation with the Ray Ban dude who used very excuse to pull more money out of our pockets. This time, he claimed that we'd negotiated a price for the meal higher than the three of us could recall. As we knew the extra funds would go in his pocket and not those who'd been responsible for our culinary delight we held fast and he was left pouting.

Along the road, some ladies were selling more of their local baking very much like that we'd purchased on the beach. We sampled a variety and then drove the rest of the way into town and back.

Day 16 – Foulpoint

 Today, K had planned a trip to the beach. That is, a beach where we could swim because the beach extends for endless miles along the coast. Romeo drove us to the town of Foulpoint past a number villages and compounds. The compounds are bounded by stick fences and occasionally weaved bamboo used in place of where we might use boards. K pointed out that some of the sticks have shoots and leaves growing at the top. Point being, it's very easy to grow things here.

We passed a series of stalls selling baskets and other weaved products. K asked if Nicola wanted to shop, a question which includes one of Nicola's favourite activities and so, of course, we had to stop. And of course, Nicola couldn't find anything because how on earth is she going to get a basket back to Canada without it getting crushed.

Before going to the hotel, we stopped at Manda Fort. This is the only surviving Fort made from eggs and ground coral. These made a paste that could be used to cement the rocks and thereby build the fort. It must have been blinding inside. Unfortunately, UNESCO has not declared it a heritage sight and being in Madagascar everything of value has been removed so that only walls and the outer shells of two of the buildings are left. Fidel, our guide, told us that at one time the walkway around the walls was made of rosewood but it had since all been stolen. Cannon, a gift of the British were still in place along a few of the opening. Fidel showed us where the opening of a tunnel that extended three kilometres to allow for people to escape and soldiers to be resupplied during times of siege. He knocked on the cement overtop and with the hollow sound help reassure us of its existence. He said people couldn't go don it anymore because it was full of snakes and showed us a bunch of snake skins to again assure of the tunnels existence.

Fidel told us that he was the seventh generation of individuals connected to the Fort and then proceeded to tell us a story about the slave trade and how the British had ended the trade after they had started to make use of machines. He said that slaves passing by Madagascar would try to escape in order to achieve freedom. He told of a woman on board one of these slave ships had had her chains unlocked by a Chinese man so that they could drink water. When he was not looking she jumped into the water, she swam to shore. (Swimming motions included with the story.) It happened that night that she and other Somali women who'd escaped were asked to entertain some British officers with their dance. The officers were so impressed with their performance that they asked the women to stay behind and seven generations later, he was introduced to the world.

La Cigale (the swan) Hotel was new and very nice however they screwed up K's reservation so that they had only one room and not two available that night. So, being a very considerate hostess, K gave us the remaining room which had a large balcony overlooking the beach and went next door where they had a single room without even a window available for that night.

After lunch, we went for a swim on a beautiful sand beach in front of the hotel which, except for a few young people in the water and few fishermen on shore, was empty. The surf was fairly rough and the shoreline had a bit of an incline so swimming wasn't the easiest. It did, however, make for some very good body surfing. The waves were easy to catch and they'd take you all the way into shore where they would slam you into the sand. By getting up before or after the wave has retreated I could save being twisted in the current. Neither Nicola nor K were enthusiastic body surfers staying closer to shore where body damage would be limited.

After our swim, we walked along the beach past many, many pirogues turned upside down in the beach. A few fishermen, with the help of their wives were untangling fishing nets. The tide was in so we weren't able to walk out the reef but we could see the waves breaking against it about 50 metres out.

There's a point where we could see around bend in the shoreline and from a distance we could see the crowds on Manda Beach. Beach chairs and umbrellas lined the water and K told us that you can rent a chair and someone will keep you supplied with drink and food. The contrast was striking between the emptiness of our beach and the crowds on this one visible from a distance. I thought at the time, it was because our area was exclusive to those inhabiting the local hotels but I was wrong.

We had dinner next door at the hotel where K was staying as ours wasn't serving dinner that night. We were joined by another couple and their early teen boy from the other hotel. The rest of the patrons were older French guys with their much younger Malagasy girlfriends. You see this everywhere here, older white guys, almost always French, with their younger Malagasy wives and, on occasion, with a small child as well. The owner was at the bar chatting it up with a couple of his expat buddies, all in their fifties of early sixties, all very cozy. Judging by the quality of the food and service, he's not that concerned about the tourist trade.

Day 15 – Tamatave

We left out of the back gate of the compound for our walk on the beach. It took quite a bit of back and forth between these guards and the ones at the front gate before we were actually released. Fortunately, it was a cloudy day because, even though it's winter down here the sun is intense. As we leave the compound, we are confronted with miles and miles of beach. The surf is pounding and M says, dangerous. He's only known an experienced Australian surfer to venture out into its waters. Except for three young boys and their dog, we pass no one until we reach a rock jetty where fishermen are throwing their lines.

The jetty hides pipe carrying effluent that M says is mostly alkaline water with a little magnesium which he says is fairly harmless. Later, we will follow the road along the side of the compound where the pipeline extends.

We walk for over an hour on sand beside the surf seeing very little except a few scuttling crabs. Eventually, we arrive at a restaurant located just off the beach. Large umbrella like structures with roofs of rafia and four posts holding them up. Two have collapsed. We sit on the deck of the restaurant and order beers and water from the two boys in charge. K claims that with a little work and advertising, the place could become a going concern. I'm not so sure. Without the possibility of activity in the beach I'm not sure what you would do. Perhaps if there was a very good chef but if these boys are it, that wouldn't be the case. Mind you, the French fries we ordered weren't too bad.

By the time we got home, I felt that I'd had a little too much sun so I felt forced to take a mersandol which pretty much put me out of commission for the rest of the evening.