Three days in a leaky boat

... actually, watertight pirogue would be more accurate. No leaks. Thank goodness!

But I digress. First we had to get to the Tsiribinha River. So we packed our bags and left Tana for the west, travelling to Miandrivazo via Antsirabe with our three new Japanese travelling companions. The scenery around Tana is amazing: every available piece of land in the valleys planted with rice, the local people busily harvesting the small padis; piles of fluorescent orange persimmons and juicy pineapples for sale on the roadside; balconies crammed with bright yellow ears of maize, drying in the sun; aluminium cars and trucks made from coke cans arranged in little wooden stands; gushing waterfalls hidden behind stalls of raffia handicrafts targeted at tourists. The terraced hillsides, mountains in the distance and beautiful valleys with terracotta-red houses adjacent to rice padis.

But what astounded me most was the sheer extent of erosion and land degradation of this beautiful countryside. All of the trees cleared for constuction, firewood or to create grassland for grazing zebu, the hills now bare, there is nowhere for the water to go but down - taking the red soil with it. So many areas are now rife with it, the rivers a muddy red-brown and the gullies like open wounds on the landscape. But as we drove into Miandrivazo early that evening, we were treated to a beautiful sunset over the mountains and this problem was forgotten ... for now.

First task early the next day: carting our luggage to the river, where we were to depart in our river pirogue. Calling all pousse-pousse drivers! The humble pousse-pousse, similar to the rickshaw, is a major form of transport for people and goods in small towns in Madagascar, and their brightly painted forms and unique identifying slogans are a common sight. While well-designed and well-balanced, they're still hard work - as I discovered when lugging around the bags of five vazaha, to the amusement of the locals!

With our guide at the stern and his two accomplices Joseph and Elia at the rear, we set off from the ferry landing to a crowd of on-lookers, lined up in the pirogue one behind the other, our luggage crammed in between us, slathered in sunscreen, hats and sarongs to protect us from the harsh sun.

The next 2 1/2 days would be spent cruising slowly along the Tsiribhina River, watching the scenery slide by, spotting herons and nightcrowns, finches and crocodiles, chameleons and lemurs peering down at us from the tree canopies and eroded river banks, mats of water hyacinth accompanying us on our way. We camped in tents at a village on the first night, and on a sand bank on the second, enjoyingh te cooking of our guides, telling storeis around the campfire and playing with the local kids. The large red river was continually with us, its gold-specked sand smothered by the red clay, washed in by the rains and forever sticking to the soles of our feet as we walked. Lunch on the first day was served next ot a beautiful waterfall in which we leisurely splashed around until our food was ready. Life is good! Mora-mora...

We finally arrived at the end of our boat journey - but there was one more part to go: the famous and oft-photographed Avenue du Baobab.

We arrived just as the sun was setting, but were still able to spend some time amongst these beautiful, 1000+ year old giants. While we weren't the only visitors - it was the first time I'd really seen a number of tourists in one place in Madagscar, and there were still a handful of them, plus the locals passing through on their zebu carts - we still felt we had them to ourselves, as the sun set and the mighty trees cast their long shadows and reflections in the small wetlands dotted around. It really is a special place and one I plan on visiting again.