Let me tell you a fable about Madagascar. To be honest, it is fact. In places it certainly is paradise. It has also been known to ooze adventure or at the very least excitement.
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Please forgive me, I lied. There’s one more blog about Madagascar.
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Our accommodation on Ambatoloake was very basic with only cold water. We had however gone up a notch in class and style from Nosy Komba.
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My first impression of Nosy Komba, a volcanic island, was its pyramidal shape with the top cut off. It was rocky but smothered in vegetation. It looked like there were no inhabitants and had no sandy beaches. I found out Ambariovato means surrounded by rock. Go figure!
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Across the water, on the edge of the aquamarine expanse lay a ribbon of white sand. On either side, trimmed by rocks and topping it, a blur of lush green tropical growth. The island looked deserted and inviting, except for a lone figure scrutinising us.
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Suddenly a high-pitched whizzing noise created a compelling call to action. All of us were alert and running amok, screaming and shouting. Chaos reigned.
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Someone approached us wanting our passports. Now there’s one thing I might do, is give my luggage away, but not my passport. That’s just not on. We’ve all heard of horror stories about losing passports, so I don’t trust anyone with mine.
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After much deliberation we decided on Madagascar. It wasn’t a regular destination for tourists at that stage. Its international relationships were poor, with recurrent political issues and impeachments.
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