Madagascar > To Tulear and Ifaty

In the morning, I wake up to a sound coming from the bathroom. It’s not immediately clear what is causing the noise. It turns out there is a little frog in the sink. Shards from the lamp are also in the sink—apparently the little creature tried to jump on it. Startled, it seeks shelter behind the mirror. I clean up the shards and take a shower. After breakfast, I get into the bus for a long journey to Tulear. The first milestone indicates 240 kilometers to Tulear. Tulear is on the coast and is the endpoint of the RN7 road. The first kilometers pass slowly. Faly must carefully navigate the bus around the potholes. Frequently, he has to drive very slowly through them. After several dozen kilometers, the road improves; new asphalt has recently been laid. Progress is faster here, although even the new asphalt sometimes has holes. Attention is required. The Isalo rock formations gradually give way to a flat landscape, which becomes even drier. I see the first baobab tree in the landscape. The baobab, with its strikingly wide trunk and root-like branches, is characteristic of Madagascar. I had expected to see baobabs much earlier along the route. At one of the baobabs, I step out and walk ten minutes along the road to stretch my legs.

Madagascar - One of the villages on the way to Ifaty

As I get closer to Tulear, poverty seems to increase. The villages consist only of thatched huts. Because rice cannot be grown here, they also cannot make bricks from the leftover clay. The villages look bleak. Families sit on the ground among the reeds. I doubt the ramshackle houses will survive the coming rainy season. Children enthusiastically wave at the bus and shout “Vazaha.” I wave back. As I approach Tulear, I see the table mountain—a symmetrical, flat-topped peak. Just behind it, I enter Tulear. The journey has taken exactly five hours. At a pizzeria, I order a “fruit-du-mer” pizza. After all, I am now at the sea. Unfortunately, the pizza is somewhat burnt. For other travelers, it’s even worse. The Italian owner apologizes and tries every way to make up for it, offering a drink, giving a bag of rolls, and removing two pizzas from the bill. Afterwards, I prepare for the final stretch to Ifaty. Although Ifaty lies only 27 kilometers north along the coast, it takes two hours to cover the distance. The road is poor, barely more than a dirt track. Faly drives cautiously along the dusty path. I often feel the wheels slipping. Despite careful driving, the rear rows of seats frequently lift slightly. In the villages we pass, we leave a cloud of dust behind. The strong coastal wind blows the dust over the villages, which the locals are probably used to. Large local buses also travel this road.

Madagascar - The size of the baobab becomes apparent when standing next to it

In truck-like vehicles, people sit packed together, and the luggage is stacked high on the roof. I estimate nearly a hundred people per truck. These trucks do not account for the bumps—it looks far from comfortable. I am relieved when Ifaty appears. I get out at Hotel Belle Vue. While enjoying a welcome drink, I look out over the sea from the elevated restaurant. On the beach, I see the fishing boats. Walking to my bungalow, I feel just how strong the wind is. The palm trees on the beach sway in the gusts. My bungalow is right on the beach—a fantastic location. Sitting in front of it, I watch the sun slowly set. Beautiful. Before dinner, a local dance performance is scheduled. Though I am somewhat skeptical, I am immediately impressed. A group of eighteen singers and dancers performs lively African music at high volume. During the final song, I am even invited to dance along—a wonderful conclusion to a great performance. Afterward, the hotel manager explains that the dance group comes from a nearby fishing village and that they had performed a church song. In the evening, I fall asleep to the sound of the sea and the strong wind rustling through the palm trees in front of my bungalow. It doesn’t take long for me to drift off.