12th June 2020

Sue was still feeling unwell and not at all looking forward to the long drive north when we woke at 5 a.m. Despite this, we weren’t the first to arrive for breakfast at 6 a.m., and it was served in good time for us to board the coach by 7 am.

As we re-entered the desperately poor and parched region we had passed through a few days earlier, we again experienced the humbling moment of handing out bottles of water to eager, outstretched hands and gentle, smiling faces. It was a stark reminder of the hardship endured by so many in this part of the world.

Our lunchtime stop was a welcome return to Relais de la Reine, the excellent hotel we had visited previously. There, we were reunited with Gronya and Dan, who had remained behind to allow Gronya time to recover from a nasty bout of food poisoning. Now fully recovered, they were rejoining our group for the journey northward.

The afternoon drive stretched into the early evening, and it was cold and dark by the time we checked into the Tsienimparihy Lodge. After changing into warmer clothes, we joined the rest of the group for dinner before retiring to bed for what turned out to be an uncomfortable night’s sleep.

The WiFi at the last two hotels has been painfully slow; most of the time, we haven’t been able to log in at all. As a result, I’ve been writing this blog on WordPad, too wary of attempting to publish it online for fear of corruption or complete loss. Hopefully, the next place will have a more reliable internet connection.

13th June 2020
A slightly later breakfast today, and we were back on the road by 8 a.m. Unfortunately, I’d made a poor choice of outfit: shorts, sandals, and a T-shirt, which proved wholly inadequate for the cloudy, chilly mountain morning. I should have known better; we were back at altitude. Sue, sensibly, had dressed more appropriately.

Our first stop came after a very short drive to a small paper factory. We trailed around the compact compound, observing the various stages of production, while an elderly lady delivered a rapid commentary in French. Thankfully, our tour guide was on hand to interpret.

An even shorter drive, one we could easily have walked, brought us to a silk factory laid out in a similar fashion. This time, the elderly guide spoke good English, so no translation was necessary. Having seen silk production before in China, we found the product here noticeably coarser in comparison. As expected, there was the obligatory opportunity to buy from the factory shop, though, for once, we declined.

Back on the bus, we began the northward marathon towards our next accommodation. For most of the journey, we experienced a light drizzle, and as we ascended in altitude, the rainforest became enveloped in thin wisps of cloud that drifted like ribbons through the dense foliage. The road clung to the cliff face above a gushing, boulder-strewn river that twisted and turned its way through a narrow canyon, making for a hair-raising drive around numerous hairpin bends.

As the drizzle eased, we arrived at Le Grenat, situated in the Ranomafana Forest, and checked into our bungalow for a two-night stay. The accommodation was traditional but perfectly adequate. We had lunch with the rest of the group before deciding to take a walk through the village, which clung to the road we had just travelled.

In the busy market square, we found a small bank and, with the help of a fellow traveller’s passport, exchanged 20 euros for the local currency before continuing our exploration.

The inhabitants of this warm and friendly island are always cheerful and welcoming, and we felt entirely safe wandering through alleyways and side streets that most would not contemplate in other cities. We crossed the river on a rickety wooden bridge; the metal one had been destroyed in the last cyclone, and this was the only way to reach the thermal baths the village is famous for. We stretched our legs further upstream before turning back towards the settlement, investigating more side streets on our way back to the hotel.

Before the evening meal, the group boarded their coach as soon as it got dark, and we were off up the mountain and into the rainforest to look for creatures of the night. The drizzle had returned, and most of us were kitted out appropriately with wet-weather gear and torches. On the way, we picked up our forest guides in one of the passing villages before disembarking at the side of the road and switching on our personal lighting. With the guides as spotters of chameleons, frogs, mouse lemurs, sleeping butterflies, and birds, we moved slowly down the mountain, lighting them up and attempting to photograph them. The dark seemed to be teeming with life, or maybe our guides were just good at finding what few creatures there were, but whichever it was, the experience was brilliant and gave Sue and me an insight into the world of Mr Attenborough as we whispered our excitement at seeing another shy and camouflaged Madagascan animal.
We returned to the hotel in time for the evening meal, a few drinks, and a welcoming bed.