sun shifted down the rock face, casting light on the euphorbias
and pachypodiums in the clefts and ssures.
Down here in the ravines, cleaved by meandering streams,
the running water became our guide. We waded, knee-deep,
through the current that was chiselling the landscape, the
rock sometimes scalloped, sometimes pocked, with the
sedimentary layers taking on hues from vanilla to esh-pink to
cinnamon. We clambered over boulders covered in moss and
lichen, circling the trunks of Ravenea palms and tree ferns.
There was the occasional
call of a bird, such as the
high-pitched whistle of the
Madagascar grey-headed
lovebird or a caw-caw-caw
of a Madagascar crested ibis.
Butterflies, crimson, then
yellow, seemed to follow
me. Above, there was only
a sliver of light, of blue sky.
This was the ow of days
in the Makay. Time passed
slowly. Always to the sound
of running water.
That tempo meant I could
spend hours at a time with
various members of the
group, trying to learn more
about the region, the local
communities, their hopes,
their dreams. I spoke with
Fiakara Jean Ferlin, a 35-year-
old tracker who happens to
be the son of a king (which
turned out to be a rather lofty
title for being the head of a
small village, Antsakoazato).
“When I ask my father what
he is going to do—as king—
to protect the Makay, his
eyes glaze over,” Fiakara
said, shaking his head. “He
is doing nothing. So it is hard
for me to believe in a future.”
But perhaps Fiakara and his generation are the future.
“Since I began working with foreigners,” he continued,
“I became aware of the importance of the forest. Not that
I want to take orders. We want to solve our own problems,
to understand the connection between upstream and
downstream, to look after our own people. If this area is
destroyed, it will impact the lowest-income families the
hardest. We cannot let that happen.”When the ire went out, I had my
epiphany. The night skies of the
MAKAY ARE OTHERWORLDLY
He’s not the only one on a mission. Some say low-impact
tourism is part of the solution, like Will Bolsover, founder of
Natural World Safaris, who was on the trip. He’s been coming
to Madagascar for 20 years and wants to open up the Makay, in
spite of the logistical challenges. “There are some trips we do
for the sake of the destination,” he said, “not for the business.”
For the sake of the destination. That is reason enough.
It was here in the Makay that I found my favourite campsite:
in a dry river bed of soft powdery sand anked by soaring
ery-coloured blus. In the
distance, there was the white
flash of three Verreaux’s
sifakas, one of the most
endangered lemurs. They
were only really visible
through binoculars but
I cherished seeing them
among dense tropical forest.
After setting up camp,
we headed to a stream for
a wash. Later, around a
campre, we ate one of the
two live ducks we had carried
with us, before taking our
ashlights for a night safari
to spot Madagascar cat-eyed
snakes and luminous tree
frogs, as well as seeing the
red eyes of tiny Gray mouse
lemurs in the branches. But
it was when we returned to
camp, when the re was out
and I looked up at the sky,
that I had my epiphany. The
night skies of the Makay
are otherworldly, literally,
conjuring images taken by
the Hubble telescope. The
smear of the Milky Way was
almost opaque, its brightness
casting diuse shadows on
the ground. I could see a
tinge of colour in the stars,
the nebulae, even the clusters, from rose to tangerine to
electric blue. I ditched my tent that night, sleeping outside,
counting shooting stars until my eyes shut against my will,
making numerous wishes to safeguard the future of this place.
Natural World Safaris (naturalworldsafaris.com) organises
bespoke and small-group journeys to Madagascar. “The Lost
World of the Makay” trip departs in 2021, one of a series of
FACING PAGE: JONATHAN Z LEE/JONATHANZLEE.COM ALL . THIS PAGE: WILL BOLSOVER GORGE philanthropic departures called “Expeditions for Change”.NOVEMBER 2019 VANITY FAIR11-19-Travel-Madagascar.indd 75 19/09/2019 08:41
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