Introduction & Basics

Of course I tried to get better information from the people I met along the way. But, as you can probably imagine, this was less than successful. Not only was there the difficulty of speaking in French or Malagasy, but there was the usual confusion about whether someone who says that the road is "OK" means that it is ok for bicycling. This was doubly difficult on this trip because there were city folk who could not imagine riding a bike for any large distance (as there are everywhere,) as well as country folk who carry a heavy load across many giant mud holes every day, and think nothing of it. So, it was tough to know from which point of view one was speaking when they said that a certain road was good or bad.

In the end I did the best that I could and tried not to get hopelessly lost. It didn't take me to long to realize that If I saw other Malagasy people riding bikes the same direction that I was going, that I would probably be alright. Fortunately, there were bicyclists everywhere.

Another of the great joys of this trip was the chance to, once again, ride in a country where unsustainable motor transportation has not taken over. In fact, in Madagascar it has a long way to go to even draw even with the more appropriate muscle-powered methods. This is most apparent in the countryside where most people cover distances by foot, bicycle or Zebu.

Walking long distances is not a strange concept for the Malagasy, and many will be seen walking along a dusty road ostensibly several kilometers from their supposed destination. Even more impressive is that many of these folks will be carrying quite a load along the way. Most of the time, especially for the more graceful women and girls, that load will be carried by balancing it on the head, I never failed to be impressed by this ability, especially when one of the ladies would spin around to say "Salama" to me as I rode by, without spilling a bit of her load.

Carrying a load along a dirt road near Morondava

Happily, bicycling is also a well-established way to get around for many people, especially in the countryside. The bikes used by most folks are nothing fancy by American standards, but they get the job done. Old 27-inch bikes from the 01970’s are occasionally seen, but much more common are basic 26-inch mountain bikes. Some of these are obviously cast-offs from the West being given a new life after spending years gathering dust in someone’s closet. Most, however, are pretty basic low-cost types, probably manufactured in Taiwan or other Asian countries. Fully functioning components are more rare and, given the expense and difficulty of obtaining replacement parts, many bikes are ridden in less than perfect condition, often until they literally cease to operate. This can be a considerable length of time, though. Among the more common sights throughout the island, including in villages with on a few dozen inhabitants, are small shops with signs reading "Reparations du Velos". Here one might be able to get a basic repair done, though this could involve using a bent spoke as a brake yoke cable, or another "unauthorized" procedure. In spite of all that, the Malagasy who ride bikes possess quite impressive cycling skills. There were many times when I followed a local (who was barefoot and riding a bike without brakes and with wheels that obviously hadn’t been trued in years) along a hilly, boulder-strewn dirt road—and could barely keep up, in spite of my "modern" equipment.

Nevertheless, my bike was often a topic of great interest to the local folks, who would take any opportunity to check it out. My Ergo shifters, wide-range gearing (development), and cyclocomputer often attracted the attention of onlookers. However, it was my clipless pedals that stole the show. Many were perplexed by the apparently painful devices (my EggBeaters-style pedals looked especially tortuous for bare feet), and when I showed the cleats on my shoes that made them useful, I typically received either a look of bewilderment or outright laughter at such an apparently unnecessary contraption. Perhaps they were right.

A bicycle parts stand in the Toliara Market

For those that wish to carry a load, or don’t feel like walking, the mode of choice is the venerable Zebu cart. Zebu are the distinctive cattle of Madagascar and are the main, or rather, the only beast of burden of the island. Similar in appearance to the Brahman cows of India they have been an integral part of Malagasy life for centuries. Their importance to the society can not be overstated. Families achieve status in the community based, in part, on how many Zebu they own, and though killing a Zebu solely for its meat is frowned upon, a families herd may be slaughtered as part of a funeral feast, or other special ceremony. Zebu can be seen throughout the country, in all rural areas and right up to the edge of the major city centers. In all respects, they share the road with other modes of transport. While riding on the main highways it is common to have to pass though a large herd, and the generally docile creatures will amble aside, though this sometimes requires a prompt from the whip of the young men tending the herd. When used for transport, Zebu are hitched to any manner of carts or wagons and provide slow, but sure, locomotion. Few obstacles are too great for the intrepid Zebu and, in fact, their transit probably does more to keep rural thoroughfares open and somewhat passable than any human-performed repair.

A Zebu cart travels along a dusty northern road

In the cities and towns, thankfully, private automobiles are still relatively rare (with the probable exception of the capital.) Private taxis are common, however, and rumble about town in small 01960’s-vintage French-made cabs in various states of disrepair. Like taxi drivers everywhere, their owners tend to be rather impatient and make use of their horn too frequently. Fortunately, the general chaos of the street scenes in the towns keeps them under control. In a few of the larger cities another alternative exists, human-powered rickshaws known as Pousee-Pousses will take passengers around town for a few pennies fare. In typical Madagascar fashion, however, the essential dynamics of allocation of labor appear to be completely out of whack, and wherever pousse-pousse exist they exist in far more numbers than are generally needed. Therefore, none of them can earn much of a living and, in keeping with their name, are the most "pushy" of Malagasy businessmen. It is not uncommon to walk past an idle group of twenty pousee-pouseses and be asked if you need a ride by every singledriver, though your answer to the first should make it clear to the rest. Nevertheless, for a tired traveler they can be a pleasant way to get about town.

A Pousse-Pousse hauls a fare in Toliara.

When long distances need to be traveled there are really only two options (other than a fully-loaded bicycle, of course,) the slow way or the fast way. The slow way involves the indigenous mass-transport system, known as the Taxi-Brousse. The taxi-brousse are essentially any sort or small bus, van or truck, carrying as many passengers as can be physically contained within along the major routes of the island. This is how most Malagasy, and a few tourists, travel from place to place. The fast way around the country, used by most tourists, and a few Malagasy, is Air Madagascar. The airline operates a surprisingly extensive route network, using planes ranging from 15-passenger Twin Otters, to Boeing 737s. Air Mad domestic service is affordable, relative to American standards, and I found the flights to always arrive on time, an unusual situation for Madagascar. Bicycles may be included as baggage, but may be charged a small over weight-limit fee. I will save my description of both of these transport options for later pages

Green: As Seen in Nature, and Especially Rice, the Lifeblood of the Malagasy.
Flora and fauna, climate, food and drink;

One of my main reasons for visiting the island was to experience the distinctive biology that millions of years of isolation from the continents, and especially from the hands of humans, has created on Madagascar. The short visit I made to the island barely provided time to peer at the first few pages of the island’s biological treatise. Indeed, the country is home to more endemic species than perhaps any other large landmass. Many of these are most easily seen by a leisurely stroll through one of the islands parks or reserves. Here it is the verdant native plants that present themselves most openly for inspection. The entire island is carpeted in greenery not quite like anyplace else. Classic rainforests hug the east coast, containing, as one might expect, every sort of water-loving plant, from tiny orchids to great strangler figs. The west holds a type of drier, deciduous forest, the stars of which are the several types of giant baobabs that tower above the plains. An area known as the Spiny Desert, which is surprisingly lush for a desert, occupies the southwestern portion of the island. Here giant cactus-like plants, which really aren’t cacti at all (with the notable exception of the ubiquitous, and introduced, prickly pear), create a nearly impenetrable thicket of thorns. Sadly, though, hundreds of years of deforestation and importation of non-native species have taken a severe toll on the islands original blanket of plant life. Today only vestigial remnants of this unique set of habitats remain, and all of these are under increasing pressure. The deforested areas still exhibit a certain green beauty of their own, however, this is but a mere shadow of what has already been lost.

A Fan Palm, the national symbol of Madagascar.

Though not as charismatic, fearsome, or gargantuan as the wildlife of the African mainland, Madagascar’s animals nonetheless score high marks for their distinctiveness. The unquestioned stars of the show are the lemurs, early primates that look a bit like skinny Teddy bears with long arms, legs, and tails. Lemurs can be hard to observe outside of certain private reserves, where they are essentially tame, and may require the assistance of a trained guide to spot. Next in popularity are the chameleons, which exist on Madagascar in greater variety than anywhere else. Contrary to popular belief, chameleons rarely change their color to match their surroundings, but rather, usually do so to express their emotions to other chameleons. Visitors will miss a great deal if they only observe these famous species, for it is the little creatures that make Madagascar special. Lizards of all sorts, leafy geckos, snakes the size of spaghetti, and frogs painted with iridescent hues hop and slither about. Giant spiders and giant snails turn up at every corner. In the air, bright-colored songbirds, acrobatic parakeets and all-black parrots fly among the treetops, while literally thousands of species of colorful moths, butterflies and beetles flutter and buzz along near the ground. There was something new to discover almost every day.

Ring-Tailed Lemurs in the Tana Zoo, similar to ones I saw in the wild.

The Golden Orb-Web Spider lives in a web 1 meter wide.

It should be noted again that many of Madagascar’s most unique species are threatened with imminent extinction, and that several truly amazing creatures are already gone. As with most places on Earth, it was the arrival of humans that spelled the end for the giant lemurs, the pygmy hippopotamus, and the giant elephant bird. The latter was a giant ostrich-like bird weighing upwards of 300 kg, and standing three meters tall. It was killed off only a few hundred years ago and supposedly it is still easy to find shell fragments of its giant eggs at the southern tip of the island. The Malagasy government is beginning to take steps to prevent other species from following these to extinction, but with a currently increasing human population, it is unclear just how long many will last.

Madagascar lies between latitudes 12 S and 25 S, placing it firmly in the tropics. If the island were placed at similar latitudes in the Northern Hemisphere, it would stretch from the southern tip of Florida to the coast of Venezuela, or roughly equivalent to the position of Vietnam. Consequently, the climate is hot and often moist. Though the rainfall amount varies quite a bit seasonally and geographically. The wet season is the austral summer, and the driest time is in the winter. The southwest of the island, however, is an arid region and has a much shorter wet season, with most of the rain falling in the springtime months of November and December. Temperatures are naturally affected greatly by the varied elevation of the island. The highlands remain comfortable throughout the year, and even somewhat chilly in the winter. While the coastal lowlands, especially in the west, experience warm to hot temperatures and high humidity year round.

In planning my trip there were two windows of opportunity for a two-month visit that both fit within my schedule of events at home, and maximized the chances of having nice weather most of the time while on the island. These were the austral autumn months of April to May, and the spring months of October to November. There were advantages to visiting the country during either of these periods, but, in the end, I chose to visit in the autumn because I was too excited to wait an additional five months!

Another factor related to the tropical climate, which turned out to be the greatest hardship for me on this trip, was the generally short amount of useable daylight. Furthermore, as this was the austral autumn, the days became slightly shorter throughout my stay, with the sun shining for less than 11.5 hours each day at the journey’s end. Combining this fact with the typically slow travel necessitated by the poor roads, meant that I was usually riding the entire day, and spent many long, restless nights trying to entertain myself.

This is a rather complex subject, and I’ll put off much of the detail until later pages. In general, I found the Malagasy to be excellent cooks, though many times they don’t have much to work with. In the larger cities, or in tourist hotels, there are many traditional (in a western-style sense) restaurants, where one can get an excellent meal at an affordable price. However, on a trip like this one, where much more time is spent out in the countryside, such a meal is more likely to be an occasional treat. Outside the cities standard Malagasy fare is served in small rustic restaurants called Hotely, which are found in most every small town or larger village. These are not to be confused with modern hotels, though often they do have basic rooms for rent for a very small fee.

There are three staples in Malagasy cuisine, rice, rice, and rice. There is also a certain amount of maize and beans grown on the island, but these are dwarfed by the amount of rice grown and consumed throughout the country. Rice paddies are found wherever there is enough water, which is on a considerable fraction of the island’s land area. However, I did see sacks of rice that had been imported from Pakistan or China in various places, so it may be that the country’s production is already insufficient to feed its growing population. A classic Malagasy meal, eaten for either breakfast, lunch, or dinner, consists of a large bowl of white rice and a smaller bowl containing a few chunks of meat in a tasty reddish sauce. One first eats the meat, and then spoons the sauce over the rice before eating that (at least that’s how I did it.) Meat is not very prominent in the Malagasy diet, and these pieces were often a little hard to identify, most of the time for me it was chicken, less frequently zebu, and on only one occasion, pork. Frequently, these were not the choicest of cuts. Near the seacoast, or a major river, boiled fish might be used as the meat course. Seafood of all type was much more available near the coast as well, and generally quite well prepared. In most places there was not much variety, however, and the standard rice (vary) and meat (Henan-Akoho for chicken) fare, was my experience day after day. In some places the hotelys also offered delicious soups which were a big favorite of mine.

There was also quite a lot of food available at town produce markets and at the ubiquitous street stalls. Every large town had one or more markets where produce, and all manner of other things, was for sale at open-air stands. Unfortunately for me, I missed the prime season for some of my favorite tropical fruits so the selection was a little limited. Bananas and pineapple were the most common fruit and consistently of the best quality, but there were also small apples, citrus fruits, various types of melons, and more, though not everything was at its peak of ripeness. Vegetables and grains could also be found here, though I did not need to sample many of these. The exception to that rule was carrots. For some strange reason, I had a craving for carrots throughout this trip, and I used them as tasty snacks on many occasions.

Prepared food could also be found in street stalls, as well as in the markets. These perched on the roadside in even the smallest country villages and typically offered fried rice cakes, corn fritters, or other types of fried doughs. Bananas, coffee, and if you are fortunate, delicious bread, were sometimes available at these stands as well. In the evening, especially in the larger towns they may offer more substantial items, especially little kebabs of grilled zebu meat or chicken pieces, and other dishes such as shredded cucumber salad. This is probably the best combination of good food and low cost on the island. Unfortunately, I was rarely in the right place at the right time to take advantage of this.

When liquid refreshment was required (which was essentially all of the time) there was usually plenty of volume available, if not much variety. Many towns and villages in the wet areas of the country have a public well, which I probably would have cautiously used now and then, if not for the ready availability of bottled water, which can be found in most stores and stands in the now omnipresent 1.5-liter PETE plastic bottle. I must also give a begrudging thanks to the Coca-Cola Corporation for so thoroughly dominating the world with their products that they are even available in remotest Madagascar. These were sold as Coke or Fanta (orange) and, very occasionally, Sprite, though whenever possible I purchased the indigenous counterparts called "Classico". I would not normally drink a large amount of soda on tour, but on several occasions, out of necessity, they provided the majority of my daily caloric intake (and a admittedly welcome dose of caffeine as well.) For those that are interested, the national brew is called THB, or Three Horses Beer. I didn’t try any but it seemed quite popular. One other beverage of note is usually served with your hotely meal, and is called ranovola, which is a kind of tea made by deglazing the rice pot with boiling water, and has the taste , not surprisingly, of burnt rice. It is an acquired taste which, I’m afraid, I didn’t quite acquire.

Supermarkets are only found in the largest cites, Tana and Tamatave in the case of my route. However, basic groceries are available in most towns at small roadside shops, the most common of which are called Tiko. These sell water and drinks, a small selection of sundries and toiletries, household items, and snacks such as little packets of crisp cookies. In my continuing inability to discover sa good way to get breakfast while on tour, I availed myself of these packs of cookies on many occasions. The quantify and selection of products available at these shops is directly proportional to the its proximity to the major cargo routes. In many of the more remote locations in which I traveled the shelves were only sparsely covered.

A very small Tiko shop in the town of Vohemar.

Odds and Ends:

Transport to the Island

There is no scheduled maritime transport to Madagascar, though if you have plenty of time and money, it is possible to book passage on a freighter stopping in Tamatave. For most everyone else, a visit to Madagascar will involve a long air flight. Air Madagascar, Air France and Corsair were the main carriers at the time of my visit, operating flights between Paris and Antananarivo. The Air Mad flights were overnight, while the Air France flights were in the daytime. At one point in time there was also a flight to the island from Singapore, which might have been more convenient for me, but it was discontinued during the political crisis. Other international flights arrive from Johannesburg, Nairobi, Reunion, and Mauritius.

Visa

The Red Tape involved in visiting Madagascar is fairly standard, and did not cause any difficulties for me either prior to, or during my stay. Visas are required for U.S. tourists valid for stays up to 90 days. The cost for me was $33.00. The visa can be obtained in advance from the Madagascar Consulate in the U.S. which is co-located with Cortez Travel, Inc who can also book your flights and hotels.

Money and Costs

The currency of Madagascar during my visit was the Malagasy Franc, or Franc Malagache, which had an approximate conversion of 6,400 Francs to 1 U.S. Dollar at that time. In addition to the arithmetically challenging conversion, additional inconvenience resulted from the fact that the largest denomination bill in circulation was the 25,000-Franc note, the equivalent of about 4 dollars. So, when I exchanged enough dollars to cover me for the first couple of weeks of travel, the ensuing stack of bills was so thick it broke the zipper on my money pouch. To make matters worse, the 25,000-Franc bill was often too large to make small purchases in the countryside, where change was not always available, so it was necessary to carry as many smaller denomination bills as possible. This situation may have been improved recently, though not necessarily simplified. A couple of months after I returned home, I learned that the government was going to discontinue the Franc in favor of the pre-colonial currency, the Ariary, which trades at a rate of 1 to 5 to the Franc (1$US = approximately 1,200 Ariary). This will surely help with the bulging wallet situation (there will now be a 10,000-Ariary note, twice as large as the old 25,000-Franc bill), but though the value in Ariary was always printed on the old Franc notes, probably won’t do much to make things any less confusing for tourists, should they run across any Franc notes. Therefore, in the following pages, I will give the prices that I paid only as their equivalents in U.S. dollars at the time of my visit.

Lemurs and flying creatures decorate a 5,000 Malagasy Franc bill, now obsolete.

As you might expect, the cost of travel in Madagascar for a bicycle tourist can be really quite low. The more "local" and item or service is the more affordable it is, to westerners, at least. Locally produced food, basic accommodation and transport, services such as haircuts, were literally available for pennies. Prices for more luxurious items such as imported food, bottled drinks, tools, camera film, tour guides, and tourist hotels were similar to what one might spend at home. On the most rustic of days, my total expenses were as low as $6-8.00, most of which was for water and drinks, and the rest for food. Days spent in the cities or sightseeing were more costly, as you might expect, but even then expenses were usually below $30.00. A meal in a Malagasy hotely ran anywhere from $1-3.00, while a more standard restaurant charged $5-20.00 (usually less than $12.00) for a very good meal. Bottled water or sodas were usually $1-2.00 for 1.5 liters. Accommodations ranged from a low of $3.00 for the most basic rooms, to $8-40.00 for a nice bungalow or standard hotel, to $120.00 per night for the luxury hotel I stayed in for my first and last nights on the island. Entrance to a National Park cost $8.00, while the required tour guide ran anywhere from $8 to $120.00, depending on the length of the tour and whether transportation to the park was involved. Due to certain delays, I needed to take three domestic flights on Air Mad which averaged about $100.00 each. All in all, were it not for a one or two more unexpected major expenses that I’ll describe later, I would have arrived back home well under my planned budget.

Health and Safety

As I mentioned above, the health of the Malagasy people appeared to be generally quite good to my eyes, but, nevertheless, there are always issues with tropical travel that one should be ready for. Not that there are any sure-fire solutions on a trip like this one, but one can at least make a good effort at avoiding such eventualities. Most likely, though these efforts will fail at least once, or, in my case, more than once. Though I tried to watch what I ate and drank, travelling through the countryside meant that being 100% successful at this was close to impossible. Given the choice between passing out from dehydration of taking in a meal that I wasn’t sure about, I usually took my chances against the bugs. They, of course, asserted their right to multiply in my intestines, and I dealt with the resulting digestive problems for the latter 2/3 of the trip. Except for a few days, however, the effects of this were fairly mild and did not cause me too many problems. Another risk on the island is the ease at which broken skin will become infected, I fell victim to this condition as well. For reasons that I’ll explain momentarily, I frequently broke open the skin on my calves and ankles. There was literally no chance of keeping these small wounds disinfected, and the subsequent sores did not heal completely until after I had returned home.

On a more successful note, I was able to avoid another potential tropical problem, malaria. There are occurrences of malaria in Madagascar, and precautions are recommended. The simplest and best way is to avoid contact with the malaria vector, various types of anopheles mosquitoes. I was pleasantly surprised to find the number and viciousness of the island’s mosquito fleet to be somewhat tame, and much less annoying that certain places that I’ve been in the U.S (flies were a whole other story, however.) I can’t say whether this situation lasts throughout the year or only during the autumn months of my stay, however. Nevertheless, Malaria prophylaxis is strongly recommended by the CDC and other groups. There are three choices that are currently available. However, the two most often used medicines, Lariam, and doxycycline, each have a certain risk of side effects that I felt could spoil the trip were they to occur for me. So, I chose the third option, Malarone, which is effective against normal and chloroquine-resistant strains of malaria and has no significant side effects, but is very expensive. This was an unwelcome burden on my budget, but it worked, as I did not get malaria, nor did I experience any problems due to the medication.

The issue of safety is one that I feel causes far too much grief for international travelers. With the exceptions of the world’s current hot spots, travelers who approach their visits with an attitude of discovery and a feeling of fraternity with the local population should have little to worry about. I must confess that on this trip I began with a slight level of trepidation, as the Bush-Iraq war was just beginning. I wasn’t really sure how an American would be greeted under those circumstances. As it turned out, there was essentially no reason to be concerned for my personal safety on this trip, and though people in even the remotest area were aware of the start of an aggressive war by my government, no one seemed to hold me personally accountable. In fact, at the end of the trip I wished that I had left my heavy-cable bike lock at home. I never used it once during my stay (in the cities I was always able to bring the bike inside with me.) In the capital, Antananarivo, at least according to all the guidebooks and clerks at the hotels, there is a high risk of being pickpocketed. While I don’t want to encourage any future travelers to be less than cautious, by my experience this is also a bit overstated. I walked around the town quite a bit, even after dark, through all sorts of less-than-glamorous areas, and no one ever "accidentally" bumped into me, or made me feel in any way that I was a target for theft. Of course, my being about one foot taller than the typical Malagasy person may have had something to do with that.

Beyond simply not having to worry about crime, I was heartened by the feeling that if I ever really needed help it would be gladly offered by the local Malagasy folks. In fact, on this trip I did have a couple of major mechanical problems to deal with. If these had happened while I was in a really isolated place, I felt sure that someone form the nearest village would come along and offer to carry all my gear, and me, to a place where I could continue on. The scary thing was that just about anyone could probably have easily managed this. Of course, if it were one of the local ladies, she would have done so by gracefully balancing me on top of her head!

Equipment and Gear

My philosophy for packing for a tour is to get the best-quality equipment that satisfies my basic needs, and to travel as light as possible. Of course, I adopted this strategy when packing for Madagascar. However, the very harsh conditions that this trip entailed were surprisingly tough on virtually all of my equipment. Almost everything I brought either wore out, ceased to function properly, or broke completely during this trip. The list of things that survived unscathed is much shorter than that of those that did not, so I’ll only mention a few of those tough items here. My Arkel GT-54 panniers held up well on their second trip, as did my MSR Zoid 1.5 tent (though it should have lasted, as it was brand-new for this trip.) The item that took the worst treatment yet held up best of all were my Kucharik bike shorts. I use their "tradtional-style" version, which are made from a cotton-synthetic blend called Helenca. These are by far the most comfortable fitted cycling shorts that I have ever used, and not even the most vicious thorn-covered bush could destroy them. I’ll describe some of the other equipment failures later on in the trip log sections.

This was the second long tour I've take using the custom bike that I put together over the last couple of years, and the first tour I’ve ever done that involved a significant deal of off-road travel. There is a complete description of the bike on this page. Since I built the bike and first posted that page, I have made a few enhancements that I’ll briefly mention here. One of these was the use of the 700x47 size of Continental’s Top Touring 2000 tire. This was a great choice, as I really needed the wider tire for the rough conditions that I faced on this trip. However, I have heard that this size will no longer be imported in the States, so I may switch to Schwalbe tires in the future. Another change involved a switch from Shimano Levers to Campy Ergo. I prefer the Ergo levers for their cable routing, which is, in my opinion, superior for a touring bike. However, I continued to use Shimano 9-speed drivetrain components, with which I can achieve a terrific range of development, by making use of the hack for mixing these components developed by Brian from HubBub Bicycles. The mix worked very well on this trip, and I consider this to be a nice improvement. Finally, I switched to a new style of pedal several months before the trip. This was their first use by me on a long tour, and they have pros and cons that became quickly apparent on this trip. The pedals I used were the Look version (4x4s) of EggBeaters-style 4-sided pedals. There are some nice advantages to these pedals when used for touring. Most importantly to me, they have the best clip-in/out behavior of any pedal I’ve tried. Also relevant on this tour was their excellent mud-shedding ability, which I needed most every day, and the improved bearings in the Look version, which performed well throughout the trip. There were two negative aspects to this type of pedal that I discovered on this tour. One was the progressively more severe wear that they caused to my shoes, which eventually made them almost unusable. I’m hoping that a switch to Sidi Dominator shoes will help correct this problem. A more important drawback, especially for this trip, was that when walking with the bike, these pedals can be extraordinarily lethal to the skin on one’s legs. Since I walked (make that dragged) the bike for considerable distances on this tour, I ripped the daylights out of both my lower legs, often gouging into the same spot over, and over again. This situation, which I’ll describe further as the story continues, plagued the entire trip,

In terms of handling and performance, the bike performed splendidly on this tour, even though it did suffer several breakdowns. I have not taken an off-road tour before, though I had a small taste during last years trip that made me feel that the bike would handle well, and I was quite impressed with it’s capability to cover rough conditions. And as you’ll see there was just about every possible type of rough condition to deal with on this tour. So much so that when I returned home, I needed to replace several components, as well as repainting the frame.

The Map of the Trip:

The key to any good tour is the places you are fortunate enough to visit, and good route planning can make or break one’s enjoyment of their trip. As I mentioned above, I there was very scant information available that would be useful in planning a cycling route before I arrived on the island. So, I did the best I could, searched out the parks and attractions that I most wanted to visit, and tried to link them together with a route that would take me through all of the climatic zones, and that I felt I could accomplish in the 61 days I had available. I have, in the past, been fairly aggressive in the distance I try to cover, with 160 km/day not being out of the question. But, for this trip, I felt that 120 km/day would be more manageable. If I had kept on the paved roads, and not had mechanical misfortunes, this would have been quite reasonable. As I mentioned before, however, given the road network on the island, it is essentially impossible to plot a circular route that visits the main attractions. So, I opted to take my chances, and planned on a route that followed a roughly "figure 8"-shaped course around the island starting at the center in Antananarivo. This would cover over 5,000 km, which I hoped to travel in 44 days of riding, leaving 17 days for rest and sightseeing. The main question was whether to do the southern or northern loops first. Since the weather in the north is still a little wet in April, I opted to begin with the supposedly drier southern loop. However, I knew that the road conditions would be bad, and I fully expected to have to modify the route as the tour progressed. I just didn’t realize quite how much modification would be required.

The actual route that I travelled is shown on the map below. As you can see, the cycling portion of the trip covered only about half of my original plan, making the shape of a backwards "S", instead of an "8". This was a little disappointing, because the sections that I missed held some of the most interesting National Parks and were high on my list of places to visit. However, the delays and detours actually allowed me to discover many more fascinating aspects of the country than I might have if I had been able to ride the entire time. The rest of the island I will simply have to observe on a future trip!

The Route Map for Madagascar

Next: The Journey Begins...
~Go There~