We continued on the boat journey, elated and giggling as our barge was swept seawards. We stopped several times, the first for lunch. We ate at a little open air structure; essentially a wooden canopy with a small counter for food preparation and storage and a table with several benches running across, large enough for three people to sit. We sampled fried minnows and drank as much water as we could consume in the extreme heat. Yvette; our chef continued to supply us with food, as we took in the rural atmosphere. Sitting between the chickens, hens, cats and dogs, the brave ones of our troupe sampled wild fruit bats. It was served as is, thereby eliminating any doubt about what we were about to taste. I avoided the wings and literally closed my eyes until I had a small sampling in my mouth. Fruit bat was not quite what I had expected; it tastes much like chicken or rabbit. It is a lean white meat and truthfully not as meaty, nor nearly as gamy as one would expect. It was better than some of the zebu dishes I had, and in retrospect, better than the chicken I had a week later.
We walked briefly through the town, trying desperately to escape the heat. It was one of those days where the heat is so intense, the body literally bakes and steams in the sun. This was also the day I caught my first real sunburn, which clearly is not meant to happen given my natural pigmentation. The sun is unlike any I have encountered before, despite having traveled numerous times in conditions of 40ºC+. Never have I been as beet red, despite bathing frequently in my SPF 50. As we collected ourselves and hopped back on the boat, a pirogue slid in beside the barge. Aboard was a French couple; who both appeared to have been through an inferno of sun. We offered them passage until Morondava, as it was apparent that they could go no further aboard their uncovered pirogue. This was something the trio of Canuks understood immediately, having our own concerns with the extreme conditions. That afternoon the five tourists, the pirate and his crew drifted another 40 kms.
We stopped to watch a cluster of lemurs bouncing from the treetops, half-hidden by the shade on the shore. We wandered under the canopy of tamarind trees trying to get close enough to see the expressions on the faces on the two species of lemur we encountered. After several hours sailing on the Tsiribihina, we landed on the banks of yet another small town where our tents were raised for the night. This was the place where our boat odyssey concluded. We ended our day eating by candlelight trying to avoid the infestation of moths and went to bed early enough, as we knew the following day would be an arduous one.
I had a hard time sleeping that night, just too hot and humid, with the constant buzz of mosquitoes and overall excitement. The distractions kept me wide awake, peering out at the huge sky full of stars. I woke early the following morning, smiling and excited to start a new phase in my life. It was as though, all this planning, hoping, and the years of wanderlust had finally paid off. I was in Madagascar on my birthday, in the middle of nowhere, with new people and a new sense of adventure. I was still feeling the natural high from our magical moments in the tobacco factory and even more so from our experience with the children the day before.
We had our last meal of coffee, toasted baguette, jam and zebu butter aboard our barge, prior to our ride in what the locals called ‘zebu 4x4’. This was literally a wooden cart, being pulled by two zebus. We were hauled, tossed and shaken for close to one hour, through marshes and swamps filled with water lilies, under tamarind trees and eventually through rice paddies. After an hour of zebu carting, we made our way to the waiting 4x4 jeep: where the trio, the duo and the pirate climbed-in for a full day’s drive, headed towards the Avenue des Baobab.
No comments:
Post a Comment