Pirogue to Zebu Cart to 4X4 to Ferry

This was a picture i took early in the morning from the sandy banks where we had camped

We had already spend two days on the boat but still had a good part of 6 hours to go on the third day and even though it was a wonderful experience to drift on the non-mechanized pirogues, I think after two days I was ready to move on to land…but it’s not like I had a lot of options so I had to stick it out.

Abraham and William

To save us time, Bernis cooked our lunch on the pirogue…I have no idea how he managed to prepare our lunch with charcoal and all in the crammed space on the pirogue but the meal was delicious.

Lunch on the go

The last two hours of the pirogue ride was pretty tough as we were nearing the ocean and the wind was blowing against us making paddling through it extremely hard, however, we finally arrived at a small hamlet not far away from the mouth of the ocean where our river ride was to end.

That was also the end of the journey together with our paddlers, porters and the kids but they still had to go back to Miandrivazo and it would take them anything from five to seven days to punt (push the pirogue with a wooden pole) them back to the village all of it against the tide of the river.

Zebu cart ride

I have to doff my hat to those guys…not only where they paddling the whole day but they cooked our meals, loaded unloaded cargo from the pirogue and still had their eyes open to spot the occasional chameleon and crocodile. It was really nice to have the kids on board too as they bought a lot of energy to the group especially whenever we pulled up on land.

Our 4X4

The best part about the kids was how cultured they were. Sure they were from a very humble family with one having lost his father at a very early age but they were extremely respectful with their general conduct towards us...not at all the bratty kids I have often encountered. I distinctly remember offering my extra hat to the kids so they could get some shelter from the sun, but every so often they would look back and try to hand it back to me thinking I wanted or needed it back.

Locals playing cards

Even when I offered them a snack or water they would initially look at the older paddlers to see if that was ok and then in very soft tone say Misaotra (thank you in Malagasy and pronounced more like Mis-o-cha). Certainly the best behaved kids I have seen and I truly hope they have a decent future because I get a feeling that their opportunities are going to be pretty limited if they grow up in the south western part of Madagascar. I hope they have the best of luck …!

One of the best random pics i have taken



Malagasy woman with herbal paste

The small hamlet where we got off the pirogue was the start of secondary roads that we would be encountering for the next 3 days. We took a bumpy zebu cart (ox drawn cart) ride for about 30 minutes and then took a 4X4 for the next hour or so to reach a river crossing. At the river crossing we loaded our 4X4 onto a ferry and then it was another 45 mins before we reached the town of Belo Tsiribihina. The ferry ride felt as though as I was meditating for a while there as I sat on the front deck of the ferry with my legs folded as the ferry gently cut through the water and all the while I inhaled deep breaths of the cool breeze as I watched the sun set at a distance while the birds flew back home.

Market of Belo

At Belo Sur Tsiribihina, as soon as I checked in to the hotel I took the opportunity to wash my dirty clothes and err…myself. The evening was spent having a great meal and celebrating Luke’s birthday.Bernis mentioned that the next day we can sleep in a little late after a couple days of waking up at 5am but I woke up early anyway as I wanted to take the opportunity to walk around the small town of Belo Sur Tsiribihina.

Kids gambling at Belo market

Belo was a dusty little town seemingly in the middle of nowhere but surprisingly well planned with perpendicular roads and divided into blocks. The landmarks of the city were a couple nice churches, a library sponsored by the French and the main market area which was all a 5-10 min walk from the hotel that we were staying.

The open market was just another busy market that I would associate with either Africa or India selling everything from clothes to food and including road side eateries and a small section for kids’ rides. I got some home made yogurt from a lady selling it on the streets for about 300 Ariary (15 cents or 7 Rupees) and it was lightly sweetened and bought back memories of the yogurt that my mom used to make. Mmmm…it was delicious!

My yogurt lady

These were our roads to Bekopara

I got back to the hotel around 9am as we were loaded up our 4X4 and start on our way towards the village at the entrance of the Tsingy Reserve. The ride took us through some pretty bad roads (if I can call it that). The soil was sandy and dusty and it seemed as the roads had small chasm along it probably caused due to erosion and I could understand the reason why this region is inaccessible during rainy season.

On way to Bekopara...cluster of Baobabs

The scenery all the way was stunning with dry dense forests suddenly giving way clusters of baobab trees. I had the window seat on the row behind the driver and all along the 5 hours journey, I was halfway out of the jeep trying to soak in the beautiful ride not knowing how uncomfortable and bumpy the ride was for people sitting at the back seat as it was pretty crammed there.

Our 4X4 on ferry across Manambolo river

Right before we got to Bekopara, we had wait for a ferry to shuttle us across the river Manambolo which looked similar to the river that we had floated on and by the time we got there it was late afternoon. As soon as we set up our tents, I decided I wanted to wander around the region around Bekopara and Luke, Jilli and Mickael decided to join me. It was pretty fascinating walking in that region with a lot of different species of fruiting trees and learning a little bit about the flora from the biologists (both Luke and Mickael were biologists).

We returned in time for dinner which was prepared by Bernis with the help of a few locals from the village. That night I went to bed early but with a quite excitement of finally seeing the Tsingy the next day.


Crossing the Manambolo river