The drive up to the Tsingy national park wasn't as tough as we'd been led to believe. We were told that the road was terrible, but in fact as it was actually a single track route that was pretty smooth, it was a vast improvement over the Morombe to Belo route. We even managed to hit about 70mph for a few minutes on a couple of sections. Like our other 4x4 journey, we passed through a variety of landscapes including the famed "Avenue of the Baobabs" as well as grasslands, dry deciduous forest and dried up rivers (it's the winter/dry season right now). There were also a few rural farmed areas (rice paddies mainly) and small towns and settlements. When we passed them, instead of being greeted by the children with "salama fazahar", they ran towards the road waving and calling out "eau vivre" in chorus or on a copule of occasions, "cadeaux" or "bon bon". This route clearly sees many tourists.
"Eau vivre" by the way is a plea for our empty water bottles which are reused as vessels for carrying all manner of liquids, candle holders or made into toys by the children.
Along the road we'd pass the occasional zebu cart - the local methods of transport. Most of the women that we passed had a straight posture and were carrying buckets or shopping bags on their heads. The men that we passed were rarely - if at all - seen without a tool of some sort. Whereas near Andavadoaka it was usually an axe, in this region it was more likely to be an "?" shaped blade on the end of a stick, a spear or an axe. You wouldn't want to mess with any of them. But then again at least if you broke down in the vicinity of one of these guys, there'd be available tools for repairs.
The Tsingy National Park exceeded all my expectations. Words really can't do this sort of vast scenery justice, so I'm not even going to try. Okay, well just a little bit. I'll start with a brief explanation of the landscape. The Tsingy is Malagasy for "walking on tiptoe" because the first settlers in the region collected honey and the only way to walk on the spiky limestone rock was on tip toe. Tsingy is the name for the limestone rock - ancient coral reefs - which now rise up from the forest like spiky skyscrapers as a result of tectonic movement millions of years ago. Because of the acidity of the rain, these limestone formations are constantly changing as the rock is eroded by the rains each year. Our leaflet describes the Tsingy thus: "from a very thick system of faults, cracks, calcareous blocks areas sculpted in sharp blades or needles". don't know if that helps you imagine it or not. Probably not. Certainly, nothing I'd read about really gave me any idea of the vastness of this landscape, nor how dramatic it would actually be to be in amongst it.
We did four different 'circuits' altogether over our three days there plus a short gorge trip on a pirogue. Our guide for all trips, Narciss, was extremely knowledgeable and hugely enthusiastic about all things Tsingy - animate and inanimate - and I learnt a lot. He was able to identify all the birds by their calls alone, and once he'd heard a bird, would get out his binoculars and search them out for us. We saw over 20 different species including four different kinds of raptors. We also saw three different kinds of lemur - in the forest and climbing on the Tsingy and startled one group of grey bamboo lemurs who were hanging out right by the path we were walking on. We also surprised a snake on our very first walk which made me jump just a little.
All of our circuits took us into the forests and we were able to see the Tsingy from all angles. From the side from the forest, from the ground, as we sidled in between the cracks, from underneath in the caves and caverns and from the top after clambering and climbing up rocks, ladders and across suspension bridges. We had climbing harnesses which I was exceedingly grateful for at times, especially as we teetered precariously over huge drops, deep crevices and jagged rocks. I loved every moment of it. I especially loved the different formations of the rocks, seeing the massive roots of all the different trees and seeing how the rain had affected the limestone in the caves.
After three days and four hikes in the Tsingy, it was time to move onto another national park - the Kirindy Forest - which was on our way back to Morondava. Our accommodation was more basic and in the forest. We were underwhelmed by our night walk even though we did see a couple of kinds of lemurs including a cute mouse lemur. However, our day walk the following day was much more exciting as we had several encounters with families of lemurs - two kinds - and I was astounded to find on a number of occasions that my zoom lens on my camera was just too zoomy - we were too close! We also saw more birds but only two kinds of lizards. It's the wrong season for reptiles apparently - so our snake sighting was especially lucky it seems.
And now, after arriving back in Morondava, we had a couple of days to chill out before hopping on a short (one hour) flight to Tana. Tomorrow we head east for some more national parks and hopefully more birds, lemurs and maybe some reptiles.
Favourite photograph that I didn't take: Woman in the town of Belo Sur Tsirinbina carrying a sewing machine on her head! She had rather a huge bottom, so I think that helped counter balance the weight of the old-style Singer sewing machine.
Sunday 31 August 2008
Thursday 21 August 2008
It depends on the wind - part two
Morondava
It's been a very Malagasy first week to our holidays.
We'd wanted to do some diving after the volunteers left, but the winds were way too strong to go diving.
In the end, we spend our remaining time in Andava packing up and handing over things to Axelle. We finally left Andava on Tuesday 12th August in one of Ilias's 4x4s. There was hardly anyone left on site to see us off, though all of the Coco beach staff did come down to wave goodbye. The first stop on our trip was Morombe - an extremely laid back town to the north of Andavadoaka. Laid back is an understatement in fact. It's possibly the deadest town I've ever visited. But that was okay we thought as we only intended to be there a night. The first choice for our exit strategy was a plane - expensive but quick. Ilias offered to book us seats, but that afternoon we got a message to say that planes from Morombe were still cancelled. Our second choice, to leave by boutre, looked extremely promising however as Jean from Andava - in Morombe visiting family - managed to find us one that was leaving the next day. I had mixed feelings about the boutre. Yes it was cheap. Yes it was 'romantic' and yes it was adventurous. But it was also unpredictable and the toilet options were minimal. Well, non-existant. Still, I thought, how hard can it be to pee over the side of a boat?
It all seemed too good to be true - the boutre was leaving the next day and we were on it. We left the hotel at 5am Malagasy time (ie 6.30am) and Jean and two crew members carried our luggage through the town to the north end of the beach. I can report that Andavadoaka's poo beach is not the only one in Madagascar. Morombe has one too. Anyway, the smallest rowing pirogue in the world took our luggage onto the boat and we followed behind in an even smaller pirogue. We arrived on board at about 7.15am to find the boat full of passengers. About 30 in total. There wasn't much space and there was even less privacy. What reservations I had about boutre toilet arrangements were multiplied as I realised that there was no where on the boat without onlookers. Peeing over the side of the boat was one thing but to do so with an audience was another thing entirely.
As is the way in Madagascar, after plenty of waiting around, suddenly there was a frenzy of activity with a sense of urgency as the anchors were pulled up (they took half an hour to get on board) and the sails were erected. We finally left Morombe at 9.50 and set sail for Morondava and Belo Sur Mer. The wind was not ideal. Some might say that it was bad. In fact, someone did say it was bad, but the captain seemed to think it was worth trying anyway. We'd been shown into the captain's cabin, a tiny wooden box on the top of the deck. We shared it with a woman (the captain's wife I presume) and three or four children as well as lots of bags. We dozed on and off and ate some rice and fish prepared on board.
The sandy coast went past the window to our right as we sailed north. Though there were no engines on board, it wasn't that peaceful due to the plink plonk of the homemade Malagasy guitars which were attacked by the children. The boat tacked a few times and the noise of the crew above our heads was pretty loud too.
Still, the motion of the boat was pleasant and I was sort of excited about the journey, though anxious about what I would do when I finally needed to pee. At 1.30, the coast appeared through the left window. I'm no whizz with direction, but even I knew that meant we'd done a 180 and were heading back to Morombe. The captain had decided that the wind was too bad after all and so we'd anchor in Morombe and set off again at midnight. The idea of going all the way back to Morombe and starting all over again the next day pretty much floored me. At this rate, it could take us a few more days - and we still might not get anywhere.
A few phone calls later and we'd made other arrangements for transport. Back in Morombe, the tiny pirogue was lowered into the water from the boutre and we departed with our bags precariously perched across it, waving goodbye to the passengers and crew. Justin had tried to get some of our money back from the captain but he just looked frightened and explained that he'd already spent the majority of it on food. Our boutre journey was over somewhat prematurely - and had turned out to be quite a pricey day out which I would have enjoyed more had I known it was to be our only day out on the boat.
The adventure did not end there. Oh no. One of Ilias's friends came to the beach to pick us and our bags up and promptly got stuck in the sand as it was not a 4x4 and not made for sand. We were another hour on the beach with about 20 vezo men and children trying to push it out of the sand. Muscly though the vezo are, even they could not shift it and it needed the help of a 4x4 to pull it before it shifted. We finally arrived back in the same room of the hotel Baobab less than 12 hours after we had left it.
We finally managed to properly leave Morombe on our second attempt (third if you include the plane that didn't get booked) only 8 hours later than planned. We'd booked a 4x4 through Ilias to leave at 8am the following day after the aborted boutre journey. At 9.30 (which is approximately 8am Malagasy time) the car had still not turned up. Nor at 11. Nor at 1. Leaving Morombe was proving to be harder than it sounded. After lots of reassurances and blatant lies from the hotel staff, the car finally turned up at 4pm that afternoon with Patrick, Ilias's driver, smiling broadly at us. The staff advised us to wait for morning but I was worried that the invisible forces that had so far kept us in Morombe would strengthen overnight and we would not manage to leave at all.
We waved goodbye to Morombe with no tears at 5pm and drove for 3 hours through the most spectacular scenery until we got to a town called Ambiky. The drive really was incredible - with huge monster boababs lining the road and a rainbow over forest in the distance. I say road, but for most of the journey that would be a generous description for what was actually just an absence of vegetation. The journey was uncomfortable and violent as a result and it felt like a cross between being in a carcrash and being on a rollerocoaster. I did not mind. At least we were going somewhere.
We ate a lovely local meal (beans and rice. Hoorah) and then bedded down in one of Ambiky's 'hotels'. I don't think many tourists stop through the town. The hotel owners initially showed us a barn with no furniture in at all, but when we seemed unphased by the prospect of sleeping there, they relented and offered us a room with an actual bed in it. Justin erected our mosquito net and I was shown the bathroom which turned out to be a small room with a bucket of water in it. No toilet bowl. No hole to pee down, just a tiny hole in the back of the back wall where the pee was supposed to drain. Only apparently it hadn't drained for a while and there was a big puddle of pee towards the back of the room. Still, at least it was private.
We set off on the final leg of our journey to Belo sur mer at 6am the following morning. We stopped off for bok bok and coffee at 9 and then in a town called Manja for lunch before arriving in Belo at 5pm. The journey was as spectacular as it had been the day before and we drove through quite a wide variety of habitats on the terrible 'road'. Children in small villages ran out, singing "salama fazahar" in unison when we passed. My favourite image of the day however was not the huge towering boababs shrouded by mists in the early morning. Nor the two young zebu herders crossing the river while holding their clothes above their heads to keep them dry. Nor was it the village meeting in one of the farming villages. It was the sight of a naked man who was sat on his own in one of the rivers eating a french baguette grinning hello to us as we passed.
So... We finally arrived in Belo sur mer, optimistic and excited. We'd planned to do some diving there and visit a national park as well. I was initially disappointed to find that the diving centre was not sending out dives because the diving manager was on holiday. However, due to my divemaster status, Stephane, the hotel manager (who knew of Blue Ventures) agreed that we could rent out the boat for a day to go diving. Sadly, it was not to be. Monday dawned with a southerly wind and Stephane advised us that the visibility would be too poor and it wasn't worth our while.
Meanwhile lots of investigation over our first two days had finally rewarded us with a booking for a local guide to take us to a national park and we booked it for Tuesday. That day dawned with another southerly wind which the pirogue could not sail against to take us there. And so that too was cancelled. In the end, we spent four days in Belo relaxing, reading, not diving and not visiting national parks. I did, on the other hand, manage to find the best coffee in Madagascar at one of the roadside stalls. We ate breakfast there each morning (coffee and bok bok) and also commandeered the friendly woman to make us lunch which she did at a very reasonable price of 3,000 ariary per person (£1) for a delicious 'all you can eat' meal of very tasty beans and rice.
Belo is a vezo village - but much bigger than Andavadoaka. There are more hotels (mostly foreign owned) and more tourists. It is the centre of boutre building in Madagascar, and there are boutres in different stages of construction all along the beach. Apparently they take between 4 and 6 years to build. As I never saw anyone working on one in our five days there, this is possibly why. However, a brand new one was launched while we were there - though we were too tired to stay for more than an hour at the all-night party in its honour.
And now we're finally in Morondava having left Belo on a motorised pirogue this morning. Thankfully, that transport method was not reliant on wind direction. Ironically, the wind would have been in our favour for either diving or for visiting the national park today, but we were running out of cash and it was definitely time to move on. We've found ourselves a hotel that's a little more luxurious than anywhere we've stayed at yet. We have hot water and electricity that's on all the time! The hotel also arranges 4x4 hire (it's the only 'reliable' way to travel in this country it seems) and we're (fingers' crossed and all that) going to the Tsingy National Park on Saturday. The hotel is owned or run by a nephew of Ilias (the owner of Coco beach) it turns out - though we didn't know that when we booked in. In the meantime, we shall feast on some tourist food and prepare ourselves for six days of 'roughing' it. Whatever transpires, at least we are no longer reliant on a 'good wind' for our plans.
It's been a very Malagasy first week to our holidays.
We'd wanted to do some diving after the volunteers left, but the winds were way too strong to go diving.
In the end, we spend our remaining time in Andava packing up and handing over things to Axelle. We finally left Andava on Tuesday 12th August in one of Ilias's 4x4s. There was hardly anyone left on site to see us off, though all of the Coco beach staff did come down to wave goodbye. The first stop on our trip was Morombe - an extremely laid back town to the north of Andavadoaka. Laid back is an understatement in fact. It's possibly the deadest town I've ever visited. But that was okay we thought as we only intended to be there a night. The first choice for our exit strategy was a plane - expensive but quick. Ilias offered to book us seats, but that afternoon we got a message to say that planes from Morombe were still cancelled. Our second choice, to leave by boutre, looked extremely promising however as Jean from Andava - in Morombe visiting family - managed to find us one that was leaving the next day. I had mixed feelings about the boutre. Yes it was cheap. Yes it was 'romantic' and yes it was adventurous. But it was also unpredictable and the toilet options were minimal. Well, non-existant. Still, I thought, how hard can it be to pee over the side of a boat?
It all seemed too good to be true - the boutre was leaving the next day and we were on it. We left the hotel at 5am Malagasy time (ie 6.30am) and Jean and two crew members carried our luggage through the town to the north end of the beach. I can report that Andavadoaka's poo beach is not the only one in Madagascar. Morombe has one too. Anyway, the smallest rowing pirogue in the world took our luggage onto the boat and we followed behind in an even smaller pirogue. We arrived on board at about 7.15am to find the boat full of passengers. About 30 in total. There wasn't much space and there was even less privacy. What reservations I had about boutre toilet arrangements were multiplied as I realised that there was no where on the boat without onlookers. Peeing over the side of the boat was one thing but to do so with an audience was another thing entirely.
As is the way in Madagascar, after plenty of waiting around, suddenly there was a frenzy of activity with a sense of urgency as the anchors were pulled up (they took half an hour to get on board) and the sails were erected. We finally left Morombe at 9.50 and set sail for Morondava and Belo Sur Mer. The wind was not ideal. Some might say that it was bad. In fact, someone did say it was bad, but the captain seemed to think it was worth trying anyway. We'd been shown into the captain's cabin, a tiny wooden box on the top of the deck. We shared it with a woman (the captain's wife I presume) and three or four children as well as lots of bags. We dozed on and off and ate some rice and fish prepared on board.
The sandy coast went past the window to our right as we sailed north. Though there were no engines on board, it wasn't that peaceful due to the plink plonk of the homemade Malagasy guitars which were attacked by the children. The boat tacked a few times and the noise of the crew above our heads was pretty loud too.
Still, the motion of the boat was pleasant and I was sort of excited about the journey, though anxious about what I would do when I finally needed to pee. At 1.30, the coast appeared through the left window. I'm no whizz with direction, but even I knew that meant we'd done a 180 and were heading back to Morombe. The captain had decided that the wind was too bad after all and so we'd anchor in Morombe and set off again at midnight. The idea of going all the way back to Morombe and starting all over again the next day pretty much floored me. At this rate, it could take us a few more days - and we still might not get anywhere.
A few phone calls later and we'd made other arrangements for transport. Back in Morombe, the tiny pirogue was lowered into the water from the boutre and we departed with our bags precariously perched across it, waving goodbye to the passengers and crew. Justin had tried to get some of our money back from the captain but he just looked frightened and explained that he'd already spent the majority of it on food. Our boutre journey was over somewhat prematurely - and had turned out to be quite a pricey day out which I would have enjoyed more had I known it was to be our only day out on the boat.
The adventure did not end there. Oh no. One of Ilias's friends came to the beach to pick us and our bags up and promptly got stuck in the sand as it was not a 4x4 and not made for sand. We were another hour on the beach with about 20 vezo men and children trying to push it out of the sand. Muscly though the vezo are, even they could not shift it and it needed the help of a 4x4 to pull it before it shifted. We finally arrived back in the same room of the hotel Baobab less than 12 hours after we had left it.
We finally managed to properly leave Morombe on our second attempt (third if you include the plane that didn't get booked) only 8 hours later than planned. We'd booked a 4x4 through Ilias to leave at 8am the following day after the aborted boutre journey. At 9.30 (which is approximately 8am Malagasy time) the car had still not turned up. Nor at 11. Nor at 1. Leaving Morombe was proving to be harder than it sounded. After lots of reassurances and blatant lies from the hotel staff, the car finally turned up at 4pm that afternoon with Patrick, Ilias's driver, smiling broadly at us. The staff advised us to wait for morning but I was worried that the invisible forces that had so far kept us in Morombe would strengthen overnight and we would not manage to leave at all.
We waved goodbye to Morombe with no tears at 5pm and drove for 3 hours through the most spectacular scenery until we got to a town called Ambiky. The drive really was incredible - with huge monster boababs lining the road and a rainbow over forest in the distance. I say road, but for most of the journey that would be a generous description for what was actually just an absence of vegetation. The journey was uncomfortable and violent as a result and it felt like a cross between being in a carcrash and being on a rollerocoaster. I did not mind. At least we were going somewhere.
We ate a lovely local meal (beans and rice. Hoorah) and then bedded down in one of Ambiky's 'hotels'. I don't think many tourists stop through the town. The hotel owners initially showed us a barn with no furniture in at all, but when we seemed unphased by the prospect of sleeping there, they relented and offered us a room with an actual bed in it. Justin erected our mosquito net and I was shown the bathroom which turned out to be a small room with a bucket of water in it. No toilet bowl. No hole to pee down, just a tiny hole in the back of the back wall where the pee was supposed to drain. Only apparently it hadn't drained for a while and there was a big puddle of pee towards the back of the room. Still, at least it was private.
We set off on the final leg of our journey to Belo sur mer at 6am the following morning. We stopped off for bok bok and coffee at 9 and then in a town called Manja for lunch before arriving in Belo at 5pm. The journey was as spectacular as it had been the day before and we drove through quite a wide variety of habitats on the terrible 'road'. Children in small villages ran out, singing "salama fazahar" in unison when we passed. My favourite image of the day however was not the huge towering boababs shrouded by mists in the early morning. Nor the two young zebu herders crossing the river while holding their clothes above their heads to keep them dry. Nor was it the village meeting in one of the farming villages. It was the sight of a naked man who was sat on his own in one of the rivers eating a french baguette grinning hello to us as we passed.
So... We finally arrived in Belo sur mer, optimistic and excited. We'd planned to do some diving there and visit a national park as well. I was initially disappointed to find that the diving centre was not sending out dives because the diving manager was on holiday. However, due to my divemaster status, Stephane, the hotel manager (who knew of Blue Ventures) agreed that we could rent out the boat for a day to go diving. Sadly, it was not to be. Monday dawned with a southerly wind and Stephane advised us that the visibility would be too poor and it wasn't worth our while.
Meanwhile lots of investigation over our first two days had finally rewarded us with a booking for a local guide to take us to a national park and we booked it for Tuesday. That day dawned with another southerly wind which the pirogue could not sail against to take us there. And so that too was cancelled. In the end, we spent four days in Belo relaxing, reading, not diving and not visiting national parks. I did, on the other hand, manage to find the best coffee in Madagascar at one of the roadside stalls. We ate breakfast there each morning (coffee and bok bok) and also commandeered the friendly woman to make us lunch which she did at a very reasonable price of 3,000 ariary per person (£1) for a delicious 'all you can eat' meal of very tasty beans and rice.
Belo is a vezo village - but much bigger than Andavadoaka. There are more hotels (mostly foreign owned) and more tourists. It is the centre of boutre building in Madagascar, and there are boutres in different stages of construction all along the beach. Apparently they take between 4 and 6 years to build. As I never saw anyone working on one in our five days there, this is possibly why. However, a brand new one was launched while we were there - though we were too tired to stay for more than an hour at the all-night party in its honour.
And now we're finally in Morondava having left Belo on a motorised pirogue this morning. Thankfully, that transport method was not reliant on wind direction. Ironically, the wind would have been in our favour for either diving or for visiting the national park today, but we were running out of cash and it was definitely time to move on. We've found ourselves a hotel that's a little more luxurious than anywhere we've stayed at yet. We have hot water and electricity that's on all the time! The hotel also arranges 4x4 hire (it's the only 'reliable' way to travel in this country it seems) and we're (fingers' crossed and all that) going to the Tsingy National Park on Saturday. The hotel is owned or run by a nephew of Ilias (the owner of Coco beach) it turns out - though we didn't know that when we booked in. In the meantime, we shall feast on some tourist food and prepare ourselves for six days of 'roughing' it. Whatever transpires, at least we are no longer reliant on a 'good wind' for our plans.
Tuesday 12 August 2008
It's my last blog from Andavadoaka and it seems fitting that our final week here has been one of the most hectic of all.
On top of doing 'end of expedition' admin (which is always hectic and time consuming), sorting all our stuff out into three piles (ditch behind, take travelling, send onto meet us in Tana) we've also been doing as much handover to Axelle as we possibly can so that she is well equipt to deal with her first expedition.
The days seemed to have zipped by in a whirr and I have barely had time to reflect or feel too sad, because as soon as we stop, we fall into bed and pass out. It has been a week of highs and lows - which also seems appropriate. Our goodbyes have been prolongued and drawn out. On Thursday we said goodbye to three vols (leaving two days early) as well as Georgi, Louis and Bic who were going to the south to do some diving for Georgi's project. It was hard to say goodbye to them all, but hardest to say goodbye to Bic who has been a big part of expedition life and who I may never see again.
On Wednesday evening, we had our final party night and I got drunk and stayed up by the bonfire with the volunteers until about 3am. It was good fun, but my head definitely suffered the following day.
I had my FINAL dive on Friday morning. We went to 007, one of my favourite reefs here with a really high percentage of hard coral cover. It was a stunning and relaxing dive as there was no current and fantastic visibility. We stayed together as a group and I was happy to see over 50 different species of fish, including some of my favourites from our stay here. Alec took lots of photos including some of me, which will be a great memento. Justin unfortunately did not dive as he still had sensitive ears.
On our final final night (with the volunteers), we had a lovely sendoff as the Coco Beach staff sang us two goodbye songs, the Malagasy staff sang two more and we were presented by an amazing gift by the Coco beach staff - a wooden model baobab. The BV staff gave us a model clown fish and a lovely card. I was quite overcome and gave a long speech about
how fantastic everyone had been.
Rather appropriately for our last expedition, the camion arrived more than 24 hours late but the volunteers finally left at 6pm on Saturday and since then we have been doing more training, more packing and saying our final goodbyes to the village and people in it. I am sad to say goodbye and have shed many tears. I am extremely sorry to say goodbye to all of the staff here and it makes me sadder because I do not know whether I will see any of the Malagasy staff again.
The wind had dictated our final week here and has also dictated our exit strategy. We were not sure how we were going to leave, we only knew that we were going north. However, the wind has meant that leaving bypirogue is impractical, the tides and winds means that there are no boutres (cargo) boats to hitch a ride on and so we will leave tomorrow on a 4x4 which will take us up to Morombe, and perhaps beyond to Belo Sur Mer.
I'm not sure how much internet access we will have from now on, but I'll try and keep this blog updated whenever possible. It's been an interesting experience. I have never worked so hard or such long hours in my life. And I never hope to again. But my tears at saying goodbye are also a good indicator of how attached I've got to the people here and to the life and I will be sorry to say veloma Andavadoaka and veloma Blue Ventures.
On top of doing 'end of expedition' admin (which is always hectic and time consuming), sorting all our stuff out into three piles (ditch behind, take travelling, send onto meet us in Tana) we've also been doing as much handover to Axelle as we possibly can so that she is well equipt to deal with her first expedition.
The days seemed to have zipped by in a whirr and I have barely had time to reflect or feel too sad, because as soon as we stop, we fall into bed and pass out. It has been a week of highs and lows - which also seems appropriate. Our goodbyes have been prolongued and drawn out. On Thursday we said goodbye to three vols (leaving two days early) as well as Georgi, Louis and Bic who were going to the south to do some diving for Georgi's project. It was hard to say goodbye to them all, but hardest to say goodbye to Bic who has been a big part of expedition life and who I may never see again.
On Wednesday evening, we had our final party night and I got drunk and stayed up by the bonfire with the volunteers until about 3am. It was good fun, but my head definitely suffered the following day.
I had my FINAL dive on Friday morning. We went to 007, one of my favourite reefs here with a really high percentage of hard coral cover. It was a stunning and relaxing dive as there was no current and fantastic visibility. We stayed together as a group and I was happy to see over 50 different species of fish, including some of my favourites from our stay here. Alec took lots of photos including some of me, which will be a great memento. Justin unfortunately did not dive as he still had sensitive ears.
On our final final night (with the volunteers), we had a lovely sendoff as the Coco Beach staff sang us two goodbye songs, the Malagasy staff sang two more and we were presented by an amazing gift by the Coco beach staff - a wooden model baobab. The BV staff gave us a model clown fish and a lovely card. I was quite overcome and gave a long speech about
how fantastic everyone had been.
Rather appropriately for our last expedition, the camion arrived more than 24 hours late but the volunteers finally left at 6pm on Saturday and since then we have been doing more training, more packing and saying our final goodbyes to the village and people in it. I am sad to say goodbye and have shed many tears. I am extremely sorry to say goodbye to all of the staff here and it makes me sadder because I do not know whether I will see any of the Malagasy staff again.
The wind had dictated our final week here and has also dictated our exit strategy. We were not sure how we were going to leave, we only knew that we were going north. However, the wind has meant that leaving bypirogue is impractical, the tides and winds means that there are no boutres (cargo) boats to hitch a ride on and so we will leave tomorrow on a 4x4 which will take us up to Morombe, and perhaps beyond to Belo Sur Mer.
I'm not sure how much internet access we will have from now on, but I'll try and keep this blog updated whenever possible. It's been an interesting experience. I have never worked so hard or such long hours in my life. And I never hope to again. But my tears at saying goodbye are also a good indicator of how attached I've got to the people here and to the life and I will be sorry to say veloma Andavadoaka and veloma Blue Ventures.
Tuesday 5 August 2008
Penultimate blog
We're almost at the end of expedition 39. As with every expedition, the last few weeks go even quicker than the first. It still seems a bit unreal to me that we won't be here any longer. I can't quite imagine not going to sleep and waking up to the sounds of the waves. I've already said goodbye to one of our Malagasy staff members - Daniel - as he's gone to Kenya for some training in running marine protected areas.
The hardest thing about saying goodbye to the Malagasy staff is that there's a really high probability that I'll never see them again. The non-Malagasy staff will, at some point, be in the UK in the future so there's a possibility of seeing them. But the chances of our local boat drivers making it to Manchester, are pretty much zero.
Axelle, our replacement, arrived on Friday. I was a little nervous to meet the woman who was going to take over. I wanted to hand over to someone likeable and capable, but at the same time there was a little insecurity about it too. I didn't want her to be so good that it looked like we weren't up to the job.
Happily, she is a really lovely woman, and human too. We're in the middle of training her right now and I'm sure she'll be great but I don't feel intimidated by her or by that.
I've done a couple of lovely dives in the last week, each time aware that I'm probably saying goodbye to that dive site. We did a lovely dive on Recruitment, though it was actually supposed to be on THB but a current took us to there instead. As I also did a dive to THB as well, I'm pretty chuffed because it meant that I got to say goodbye to both of those dive sites - which have a very high percentage of hard coral cover. I saw an octopus this week too, which is always a treat. It's great to see them changing colour. It's better than many film special effects. :)
On the day off, Justin and I took a sailing pirogue out to one of the islands north of Andavadoaka. We took a packed lunch with us and had a lovely, lazy day out on the pirogue. We landed on Nosy Matata which is a tiny, rocky island with a few bushes, cactuses and trees and even a few mangroves. You could walk around it in less than ten minutes.
Despite its size, it is still home to two tiny settlements of people with around four grass huts or so in each settlement. We saw a bunch of women returning from octopus gleaning with a bucket full of octopus. I was surprised to see the octopuses (or is it octopi?) still changing colour in the bucket even though they must have been dead. It was a really enjoyable day out and I'm glad I finally did it as it's been on my todo list for months.
Finally, we held the concert in the village on Saturday. It took place on the front of the Club Alo Alo building and our staff organised lots of benches from the primary school to be taken onto the beach. As per usual there were about three hundred children there, but happily, there were also some adults as well including a few of the village nahodas, the staff from Coco Beach and a few other village personalities.
BV kicked off the gig with a rendition of the sixties song, da do ron ron. I'd taught it - and two harmonies - to the volunteers three weeks ago. They were pretty sceptical initially about their ability to sing in harmony, but happily, with plenty of practice, they managed to make a lovely sound. Just before we went on, Gildas gave us blue sarongs to wear. As predicted, the audience loved it and clapped and laughed at us singing and dancing.
The second number was one of James's Club Alo Alo songs and we'd learned it all in Malagasy. They laughed and clapped quite a lot to that, especially when they realised that we'd be singing the whole song in Malagasy. The biggest laughs however were reserved for the dancing section at the end of the song. The women drew some loud guffaws and chuckling, but the men were rewarded with full on hysterical laughter which was so catchy that we all ended up laughing along too. I think that's one of the cultural things I'll really miss about here - the way that laughing at people is not cruel, but a sign of acceptance and joy. Because it's done with those intentions, the person being laughed at usually ends up laughing with them.
I performed a Scottish folk song after the BV crew did their thing. James had learnt the guitar part and I stood on the concrete veranda of the building and used a microphone. The sun was shining right into my eyes, but I could still just about make out the audience who were scarily silent for the duration of the song. I did not draw any laughter at all in fact which I'm not sure is a good thing or not! They did applaud me when I finished though. As the song was about the sea, I thought it appropriate to sing, and though I was completely terrified, I'm still glad I did it. Gildas briefly explained that it was about the sea before I began. Looking out to sea, singing the words "the tide, at thy head and feet, the wind about thy shoulders" never seemed more appropriate, even if most of the audience would not have understood the words.
The rest of the acts were varied and entertaining. The women's association did three songs that they'd prepared - including one especially for us to say goodbye. They'd all dressed up with make up and glitter on their faces and looked amazing. Madame Ziza made a short speech beforehand thanking us for our work for the women's association and presenting us with a present each (matching shirts in orange and blue garish pattern). I was quite overcome and thanked them. Following the WA, there were two groups (mostly related to James) who sang and danced, Angelo's wife who sang alone, and Vivienne (the lady who does the washing) who sang with three young girls.
They also sang a song wishing us well and saying goodbye to us. :) It was lovely. Finally, there was a band with drums and Madagascan homemade guitar. They were pretty charismatic and their dancing was furnished with lots of arse shaking, drawing more laughter from the crowd. Finally, elina came on again with her two friends and danced to two epi-bar songs. It had been a wonderful concert - what I'd imagined and more - and a great way to end our time here.
The hardest thing about saying goodbye to the Malagasy staff is that there's a really high probability that I'll never see them again. The non-Malagasy staff will, at some point, be in the UK in the future so there's a possibility of seeing them. But the chances of our local boat drivers making it to Manchester, are pretty much zero.
Axelle, our replacement, arrived on Friday. I was a little nervous to meet the woman who was going to take over. I wanted to hand over to someone likeable and capable, but at the same time there was a little insecurity about it too. I didn't want her to be so good that it looked like we weren't up to the job.
Happily, she is a really lovely woman, and human too. We're in the middle of training her right now and I'm sure she'll be great but I don't feel intimidated by her or by that.
I've done a couple of lovely dives in the last week, each time aware that I'm probably saying goodbye to that dive site. We did a lovely dive on Recruitment, though it was actually supposed to be on THB but a current took us to there instead. As I also did a dive to THB as well, I'm pretty chuffed because it meant that I got to say goodbye to both of those dive sites - which have a very high percentage of hard coral cover. I saw an octopus this week too, which is always a treat. It's great to see them changing colour. It's better than many film special effects. :)
On the day off, Justin and I took a sailing pirogue out to one of the islands north of Andavadoaka. We took a packed lunch with us and had a lovely, lazy day out on the pirogue. We landed on Nosy Matata which is a tiny, rocky island with a few bushes, cactuses and trees and even a few mangroves. You could walk around it in less than ten minutes.
Despite its size, it is still home to two tiny settlements of people with around four grass huts or so in each settlement. We saw a bunch of women returning from octopus gleaning with a bucket full of octopus. I was surprised to see the octopuses (or is it octopi?) still changing colour in the bucket even though they must have been dead. It was a really enjoyable day out and I'm glad I finally did it as it's been on my todo list for months.
Finally, we held the concert in the village on Saturday. It took place on the front of the Club Alo Alo building and our staff organised lots of benches from the primary school to be taken onto the beach. As per usual there were about three hundred children there, but happily, there were also some adults as well including a few of the village nahodas, the staff from Coco Beach and a few other village personalities.
BV kicked off the gig with a rendition of the sixties song, da do ron ron. I'd taught it - and two harmonies - to the volunteers three weeks ago. They were pretty sceptical initially about their ability to sing in harmony, but happily, with plenty of practice, they managed to make a lovely sound. Just before we went on, Gildas gave us blue sarongs to wear. As predicted, the audience loved it and clapped and laughed at us singing and dancing.
The second number was one of James's Club Alo Alo songs and we'd learned it all in Malagasy. They laughed and clapped quite a lot to that, especially when they realised that we'd be singing the whole song in Malagasy. The biggest laughs however were reserved for the dancing section at the end of the song. The women drew some loud guffaws and chuckling, but the men were rewarded with full on hysterical laughter which was so catchy that we all ended up laughing along too. I think that's one of the cultural things I'll really miss about here - the way that laughing at people is not cruel, but a sign of acceptance and joy. Because it's done with those intentions, the person being laughed at usually ends up laughing with them.
I performed a Scottish folk song after the BV crew did their thing. James had learnt the guitar part and I stood on the concrete veranda of the building and used a microphone. The sun was shining right into my eyes, but I could still just about make out the audience who were scarily silent for the duration of the song. I did not draw any laughter at all in fact which I'm not sure is a good thing or not! They did applaud me when I finished though. As the song was about the sea, I thought it appropriate to sing, and though I was completely terrified, I'm still glad I did it. Gildas briefly explained that it was about the sea before I began. Looking out to sea, singing the words "the tide, at thy head and feet, the wind about thy shoulders" never seemed more appropriate, even if most of the audience would not have understood the words.
The rest of the acts were varied and entertaining. The women's association did three songs that they'd prepared - including one especially for us to say goodbye. They'd all dressed up with make up and glitter on their faces and looked amazing. Madame Ziza made a short speech beforehand thanking us for our work for the women's association and presenting us with a present each (matching shirts in orange and blue garish pattern). I was quite overcome and thanked them. Following the WA, there were two groups (mostly related to James) who sang and danced, Angelo's wife who sang alone, and Vivienne (the lady who does the washing) who sang with three young girls.
They also sang a song wishing us well and saying goodbye to us. :) It was lovely. Finally, there was a band with drums and Madagascan homemade guitar. They were pretty charismatic and their dancing was furnished with lots of arse shaking, drawing more laughter from the crowd. Finally, elina came on again with her two friends and danced to two epi-bar songs. It had been a wonderful concert - what I'd imagined and more - and a great way to end our time here.
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