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.
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