December 4, 2010
25°1'45”S / 46°50'44”E
Fort Dauphin may not be as the Bradt Guide suggests “As far from San Francisco as it is possible to be*” but it just might be as far as it possible to stand without getting your toes wet. When I last checked in, the way forward to Taoalgnaro seemed rather grim. I can now say, having completed the journey, that my opinion hasn't improved very much.
I had resigned myself to a train ride back to Fianarantsoa when I bumped into Katya and Mathew, a young couple I first met at Ranomafana. They were looking forward to the Southern route via Vangaindrano. I explained my reservations but they will still excited about the “adventure”. I very nearly bought that train ticket but, in the end, I gave in to their enthusiasm. I really don't like being defeated and, with three, options open up that are not practical for one.
I went first, setting a new record for the gap between scheduled and actual departure. The unusual start delay and the usual other delays brought my taxi-brousse into town in late afternoon. By the time I had bounced among the options and settled into the Shell Hotel, it was too late to do much about further transport. It was not, however, too late to meet Juveline, a 22 year old English teacher at the local school who is the only resident of Vangaindrano who could speak the language with any kind of fluency. She was eager to practice her own skills and probably to earn a commission on any sort of deal she could facilitate.
As a solo traveler, my options were limited but, in the middle of the second day, help arrived in the form of Mathew and Katya, fresh off the taxi-brousse from Manakara. Over the days that followed, Juveline, the hotel manager, and a somewhat slippery taxi-brousse agent known as Mario, worked on our case. Rumors passed. Plans were made. Plans unraveled. Finally, on my fourth night in “Vinegar Draino”, we had a deal. The three of us would pay a hefty, but not flight scale, fare for an early morning dash across the Road of Despair. We would ride in the cab along with Juveline. The driver was free to fill the back of 4x4 pickup with whatever and whoever he liked.
We were ready at 4:00am. We left around 5:30am. The trip took nearly twenty-four hours. It rained. A tire was destroyed. There were heated arguments with our Malagasy companions over who should pay for ferry tolls. The resistant road, while not as consistently dreadful as RN5 to Mananara, never really surrendered until we arrived in Fort Dauphin itself.
We crossed ten ferries. The first six were free, motorized, and illuminated the tropical sun. The last four, whose tolls were the source of much animosity, were driven by hand crank through darkness. We drove over many bridges but, only once, at 1:30am, did we have to build one.
Throughout, Juviliene was our interpreter, and our interface to the driver and the Malagasy passengers. She suffered greatly from chronic motion sickness and from the venom of passengers who responded with anger at the notion that Malagasy and vazaha should bear equal responsibility for the unexpected costs of the journey.
The scenery was occasionally spectacular but more often heart breaking. Madagascar was born entirely wrapped entirely in forest. The Southeast is the forest that was. Most is sterile grass land, shunned by the island's arboreal native creatures.
Even the Zebu seem to prefer elsewhere. Small clusters, widely separated, occupy the otherwise empty, green desert. Lightly wooded land, both scattered remnants and nearly planted, continue to burn.
But, that was an earlier illusion. With the coming of a new day, I gaze out over hot but breezy Fort Dauphin. The mountain and coastal backdrop is reminiscent of Cape Town. I am here to investigate nearby reserves, of which there are several, as well as diving, which is supposed to be possible. Unfortunately, the information office is closed so this is more difficult that I had hoped.
*The Bradt Guide actually gives this distinction to Tulear, which is not merely being conservative with qualifiers. It is just plain wrong. Fort Dauphin and much of the Southeast are further away.