Drive to Rahohira the gateway to Isalo National Park

Another reasonably long drive today through a   countryside with a tapestry of colours.  The driver slowed for a burnt out truck - locals had rescued some of the load.  Spaghetti tonight for tea - and perhaps the next few nights. And a few truck parts to sell.

We were in the highlands - a picturesque landscape with interesting vegetation and lots of mountains against another blue sky. Same story - when we stop for a photo opportunity or a pee in the bush children come from nowhere to look at us and the bus. Many don't want to sell anything just curiosity brings them running - the Mr Whippy effect.  Sometimes I felt  like we were the animals in the zoo.

As we drive along we continue to see people walking. Some carrying a load on their back, others with nothing. All with a purpose- where are they going?

We stopped at Ambalavao. Home to a local paper factory and watched the process of taking bark from the avoca tree and turning it into useful things like note books, menu covers and cards. Hard work  thumping and stirring until the pulp thins and hardens.

The town is as also home to the 2nd biggest zebu market and the tuk tuk.

Our next stop was at a community run, government subsidized home for the ring tailed lemur. Before finding the lemurs we were introduced to the rare Madagassy pink chickens.  Mother Hens still recognize their babies even when they are coloured pink - apparently to stop the birds of prey from eating them  - who think the babies are plastic bags. It works apparently.  The lemurs were fantastic.  Pretty uncaring of us humans fascinated by their play, eating, grooming and sleeping.

And then down the other side of the mountains - into cattle grazing country - where the locals take pride in stealing others zebu and hiding them in the hills. Their very small houses, little education and rough living certainly hides the wealth of this cattle rustling community.  The only indication of hidden money is the solar panels sitting in the doorways of these one roomed mud huts.  It is here we see woman wearing face masks for the first time. Caked on stuff cover their faces - in an attempt to lighten their skin. They have such wonderful complexions I feel sad to that they aspire to look more like me (with less wrinkles).

This made me think of the advertisements we see within the towns. In Nepal we noticed many ads for curtains, pharmaceuticals, cars had European women draped over them. Not so much here which I am pleased to say. I have only seen a couple - one with European babies advertising disposable nappies (surely not a good idea) and one for trousers.

We stop at Isohy town and have a short walk while the van is refuelled. As we walk into town it looks like an interesting place. There is a funeral going on. People are dancing in the street celebrating the life of an elderly person. The main street appears to be lined by two storey buildings. I was vaguely disappointed when we turned the corner before we had had a nosey down the main drag. Even more disappointed when we started to walk alongside a rubbish filled drain. The stench was indescribable - all I can say is I was never more pleased to be back on the bus.

Then its onto the plateau. A rather flat, uninteresting landscape before the night arrives. We keep on driving for a bit longer.

Fianaratsoa

Our highlight of the day was having a Skype with our one year old grandson Lucas. He opened his birthday presents but was far more interested in the packets of burger rings and marmite bagels sent for his parents. Banging them together makes quite an orchestral composition and Winston the dog joined in as they crawled around the room to the music. I suspect parents will have to eat them with a spoon that is if the bag doesn't burst first. Then it will be who can lick the floor the fastest.

If you are a foodie I suspect Madagascar might not be on your Top 10 places to visit. Our accommodation is not the flashest but is perfectly adequate. Food is generally an attempt to appease the European palate, but is often bland though filling.  By this time I am getting tired of runny omelettes and yesterday's French bread for breakfast and often just settle for a few pieces of pineapple or papaya for breakfast.  Our walk today took us through villages and gardens to a locals house for lunch. Our guide Barnabas had taken the left over bread from breakfast to give to children we pass along the way. I felt humbled at their excitement at this gift especially when a little one, perhaps two years old, ran home so delighted to show his parents.  

Then there was the local guide who was taking us for the tour.  A woman had prepared banana fritters in the hope we would buy them. We didn't due to our sensitive first world tums. The guide bought them and gave them to the children. I wish I had thought of that.

Then in a little house we ate lunch. The floor was covered in straw mats and we sat on poofs. Lots of rice (most rural Madagassy eat at least 1 kg of rice a day - it's the carbs at every meal). Then there is veges, zebu and pork. The meat a rarity in local homes - so especially for us tourists. The local guide told us that there generally there isn't much conversation over meals. Eating is a necessity - filling and nutritional. He said he had heard that in other countries people go out to socialize and eat  - that is when food is a luxury.

NO more complaining about food!!!

And after lunch the woman who cooked the dinner gave us a blessing in Madagassy. For couples there was a special blessing "may you stick together like a chicken and its feathers until death parts you."  I couldn't help thinking of all those skinned chickens hanging in the mid day sun a street markets - but the sentiment was lovely.

Our walk took us down dusty lanes and through patches of beans, kumara, cassava, rice and other stuff. At various times our guide pulled out of his small Mary Poppins bag these vegetables to show us what they looked like. I honestly was waiting for a lampshade and hat stand.

Children grow up fast here. Parents are working in the fields so children look after their younger siblings.  They carry  them on their backs,  make sure the smallest children are at the front of the queue for dry French bread and seem to care for them well. Gender equality appears to occur from the start. Both sexes work in the fields, wash their clothes in the river and appear to play their part in nurturing little ones - though I do have a feeling I know who still does most of the cooking.

Spring is coming and as we head south we are seeing more beautiful bougainvillea - white, red, orange and yellow. They droop over fences and sometimes grow taller than their neighboring trees.  We came across a church - celebrating its 140th year. Service inside, kids outside, dinner being prepared over a charcoal fire. We were invited to stay but just had to keep moving.

We came across a little 3 year old - big day tomorrow  - circumcision day. It can happen any time up to 7 depending on the tribe you belong to. A gift of a toy truck is meant to ease the pain apparently.

Before arriving at the hotel we took a quick walking tour of the old town  - a world heritage site. Rather picturesque as it looked over the new town. Here there were clothes lines (with pegs).

And here are some things we saw as we were waiting in the bus for some of us to exchange $$.

And at the hotel what should Harry spy - a Karanjy - a local Madagassy car - if you are lucky you can purchase one of these fiberglass gems - they are rare though and I imagine the waiting list is long as only 30 are produced a year.

The hotel was in the old quarter and is a training ground for the tourism sector. We were served by shy staff learning to give us a bread roll using a fork and spoon. We enjoyed the meal cooked by the trainer chefs. Harry even tried the cous cous.

Rabomatana

Here are some more photos of our wander through Rabomatana National Park.  It was a nice day with little driving.