Our cruise had three stops planned for Madagascar, best known for lemurs. One in Antsiranana (formerly known as Diego-Suarez) at the top of the big island and two in Nosy Be, since we were on a back to back cruise. Unfortunately, due to the weather conditions, the captain cancelled the Antsiranana call where we had booked a visit to the Tsingi Rouge stone formations.
I was especially looking forward to it as they are often compared to the hoodoos in Bryce Canyon which I had visited just a few months before.
Nosy Be is a small island west of the main island of Madagascar which is off the eastern coast of Africa on the Indian Ocean.
With the absence of a cruise port and shallow waters, the ship must haul out its tender boats again however, for our special tour to Nosy Komba, the isle of Lemurs, local boats come along our ship to pick us up.

It’s a longer process as each boat is a different size and don’t carry as many passengers as tender boats. We finally board our twin-engine boat which thankfully has a hard top as we can see all of the rain clouds surrounding us.

The thirty minute boat ride is a little bumpy but before we know it, we arrive at the beach. It is a “wet” landing, meaning you have to jump off the back of the boat into one to three feet of water depending on the timing of the wave slapping the boat forward and back. It never fails but there are always guests who don’t read the tour description properly and complain that they didn’t know they would have to get into the water or that it is an uphill walk on uneven stones.

The villagers are ready to greet us and already want us to come in and visit their makeshift booth to purchase spices, linens and other souvenirs. It is a recurring theme in our travels but this is their livelihood and they depend on the tourists for their living.

We are already soaked underneath our rain jackets because of the warm and humid air and the light rain falling just adds to the stickiness.
We set off single-file on a narrow stony path between the local souvenir stalls. A woman holds a giant pestle which she hammers into a mortar filled with coffee beans. It doesn’t take long before everyone spots a few lemurs watching us from the trees with their big round eyes. They jump and cavort alongside us and we all try to capture them with our phones and cameras.

Lemurs are endemic to Madagascar and are from the primate world but they are not from the monkey family. On Nosy Komba, we find the maki macaco, one of many variation of lemurs. The females have a brown and red fur while the males have black fur.
We’ve just entered the forest when the downpour hits and it hits hard. It’s a deluge of water or anything exposed is soaked (as if we weren’t already from the heat). We follow the guides up the narrow slippery path as they call out lemur noises to attract them to us.

One particular fellow whose day job must be to entertain the tourists is at the ready to jump on you for a banana feeding. We all take our turns to stand by the tree while a guide gives us banana pieces in our hands. A small black male lemur jumps on my shoulder and immediately grabs the banana in my hand. He roams underneath my chin, walks on my head and goes back underneath my chin. I pet him and his fur is weirdly soft and prickly at the same time depending on the stroke that you take. Though, it’s an arranged meet and greet, it was still a priceless experience for me.

An experience I totally passed on, was the wrapping of a boa snake around my neck though my husband, the snake-lover, was happy and excited to wear a snake neck-tie. 

The next must-see on our bucket list was the panther chameleon. This brightly green guy with turquoise stripes and yellow under eye holds on to a branch leaving his long tail curl at the end like a fiddlehead. His movement at times robotic and slow.

The rain continues to drown us and making the path feel more like a slippery downhill creek. It’s slow and easy as we make our way back to the small village for snacks and refreshments.

We don’t come back down empty handed. Fresh Madagascar vanilla pods and local pepper spices are purchased as our souvenir of the island along a beautiful embroidered tablecloth by one of the ladies we passed.

The villagers greet us by the beach with soft drinks and local beers alongside with local foods and a dance. All are a delight. Some of food look and taste similar to spring rolls, others like samosas. The desserts are sweet and colourful. 

But note to self! We’ve been drilled by our travel nurse to never have ice cubes, eat salads or fruits that have been washed with local untreated water and we were very diligent. However, who thinks of the cooler filled with water to keep the beers cold!  We should have sanitized the bottle necks or washed them with our bottle water. Yep. This lack of attention came back later to haunt us both once back on the ship.

Before we head back on our boat that takes us to the ship, we walk along the beach. The fishing canoes and traps are not used today but sit as a reminder that fishing is as important as the tourism. We also love the art!

As we return ship, we all agree that the rain only added to our experience and it was one of the best so far.

Fast forward a week later, and we are back to Nosy Be, again under the threat of rain. Unfortunately, both of us are now saddled with a nasty cold and the trip planned to the Lokobe Natural Park is nixed in order that we can head out to a local pharmacy to buy cough and cold medicine. No way we were going to the ship’s medical centre to be charged a ridiculous amount.

This time, we hop the tender to the local pier, we ate met with the locals trying to sell us merchandise, tours or the ever ubiquitous Tuk-Tuk ride which seems to be the ride du jour from Mombasa to Madagascar.

We negotiate a Tuk-Tuk for $10USD and armed with a map of a pharmacy nearby, we instruct our driver where to take us. The local traffic is almost all Tuk-Tuks with a few vehicles here and there.

We arrive at the pharmacy and we are not in Kansas anymore. It’s not like the big name shopping experience we are all used to. There is no self-serve shopping here. Everything is behind a counter with, presumably, several pharmacist who are there to bring out the medicine you need. The only brand name we recognize is Advil but the cough medicine is a foreign affair. No brand name here. Even the medicinal ingredients are not the usual found at home. We select three and hope for the best.

We take the opportunity to walk back to the pier and take in the local culture along the way. Two small boys no more than six or seven start tagging along with us jabbering to us in their local dialect. I try with my French and sometime they understand and others not. One is full of spunk and is thrilled when I start taking photos. I can’t begin imagining letting my six or seven year old trot along a busy street on their own and barefoot as well!

Next stop, South Africa!