Tulear Harbour and Anakoa

It was 4 am and we were sitting on the bus bleary eyed and wishing we were still in bed. I must admit it was lovely staring up at the night sky - no light pollution - southern cross and milky way clear and welcoming. 

The sun rose and we had a picnic of fruit, bread, jam and tea. We drove past more grass huts (leaning with the prevailing wind) before we arriving at Tulear Harbour.  By Madagascar standards this appeared to be a reasonably well off town ( a bit of international funding always helps). A port where a couple of large ships were moored and speed boats take tourists over to the white sands of Anakoa and the Mozambique Channel.  Carts pulled by zebu took us to the boats - my recommendation to Intrepid is that we should travel the couple of extra kilometers to the wharf and not support the zebu cart as a form of transport. They stumbled through the water, fighting their harnesses, whipped constantly by the drivers.  There loads were heavy and the carts looked as though they needed significant maintenance. On our return visit the cart Harry was in broke its axle - he was at the front so just a wet foot - another's camera went for a dip.

An hours boat ride woke us all up as we breathed in the salt air and looked at the unfamiliar surroundings - our first sighting of the Madagascar coastline (except from the plane). Pass fishing vessels with colourful sails, dug out canoes and outrigger canoes. Our hotel for the next two nights was in Anakao - we had been warned no running water (though some future proofing had been built into the cabins).  We were not expecting much. The rooms were spacious - ours the furthest away (again!!) and up quite a few steps. A little snake slid through the under growth and later on large lizards followed.  We were glad we had bought our torches given the state of the outside lighting. We were in luxury with buckets of hot water being brought twice a day to our door and the view from our balcony.

The next two days we swam, walked, ate, lazed around and watched the sun go down.

Living in a city we have grown up being quite safety conscious- we lock our doors- unless we have a senior moment. The rooms all had keys, but no locking mechanism. Our cabins were open to anyone- so we took to hiding our camera, phones and money in different places. When our room was serviced (which we didn't need but had no way of telling anyone) they found all our hiding places (under the bed and behind the curtains) and put out all our valuables on the bed and bedside cabinet- I guess they were worried we might forget them.

Our two walks were quite different. One took us towards the rock pools where we found small fish,  lots of shells and very few locals. The other towards the village and all the fishing boats. Here the locals hung table cloths and sarongs out for the tourist to buy. We were constantly approached by three or four people encouraging us to go up to the stalls.  They didn't like "no" and made noises that sounded quite rude in another language.

That brings me on to some reflections about tipping. Us kiwis aren't brought up to tip - it's mainly I think because we believe every one should be paid a fair wage. But we got in the hang of it. We kept a few notes in our zipped up pocket just for the occasion. Half way through the trip our guide told us don't tip less than 3000 ariary - oops. Anything less is offensive and often the notes are torn up by the recipient. They obviously haven't heard of the saying "look after the pennies and the pounds will look after you". On another day a guide asked for more (which he didn't get) while another was pleased as Punch with the same amount. Confusing - and adds to the cost of the holiday.