Madagascar on a scooter | Part 8 | Morondava

Who gets it in their head to buy a second-hand scooter in the capital of Madagascar to buy? To travel more than 4.000 km over this enormous island? No one before me had ever come up with this idea. I just did it and discovered the real Madagascar. Travel with me to the Red Island and get to know the baobabs, lemurs, chameleons, snow-white beaches and above all the hospitable Malagasy: TONGA SOA. In this part I travel from Morondava to Malaimbandy with some bad luck on the way. And to top it all off, I can spend the night in prison…

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Cleaning my scooter in Bemanonga

Fresh and fruity, I said goodbye to the Kimony Resort staff at half past eight. Fifteen minutes later it is already bingo, because after all those days my scooter is sputtering through the sand on the famous Baobablaan. In Bemanonga I report for a cleaning. Unfortunately there is no workshop with a pressure washer and I have to rely on a hand wash.

After cleaning it goes fine at first. The sun is shining and it's nice and cozy on the road. I am enjoying everything around me again. After 60 km I stop in Magnamby at a school.

Very bad luck on the way to Ankilizato

It is slowly but surely becoming clear that there is more going on with my scooter. Now that the road is slowly going up, I hear all kinds of strange noises from the sounder.

Landscape along the RN35 towards Ankilizato

At half past one it finally happened. Even with the expert help of a few passers-by, my scooter is no longer able to move. A local education inspector offers to tie a rope to his motorcycle and take me in tow. His brother has a motorcycle workshop in Ankilizato. "If he can't fix your scooter, nobody can."

In tow behind this motorbike to Ankilizato

It is quite difficult to follow the engine. Almost twenty kilometers it is dragging and pulling. Around half past one we reach the workshop in Ankilizato. The problem turns out to be bigger than expected. The scooter is almost completely dismantled and cleaned, but nothing seems to help. Only after an hour and a half the mechanic has found the ultimate shortcoming: 'It can't be anything other than your exhaust pipe. We have to cut it in half and clean it.'

Looking for the problem of the scooter in Agilizato — Looking for the problem of the scooter in Ankilizato

In the meantime I have the greatest fun with the children of the village. They all want to listen to the music from my headphones. Michael Jackson is clearly the favourite.

Test headphones by children in Ankilizato

Around half past five, the exhaust pipe is welded together again. At six o'clock I am driving again and I am in rush hour traffic. On a kilometer indicator along the road I read that Malaimbandy is still 52 kilometers away. That means I must speed up, because darkness is approaching.

After about thirty kilometers it is time for a short coffee break.

Arrival after dark in Malaimbandy

Everything is fine. There is no wind, nice and warm and I am driving on a perfect asphalt road. Around seven I reach the fork of the RN34 towards Miandrivazo and the RN35 towards Malaimbandy. There are a few cars parked at a hotel. I park my scooter and report to the hotel restaurant. There I meet a young couple from Drenthe. They are the first Dutch people I meet in Madagascar. They are wildly enthusiastic about Madagascar.

It's very cozy and I forget the time. At eight o'clock I decide to ask if there is a room available in the hotel. "Sorry, we're fully booked," the receptionist says. "Do you know any other hotel?" 'No, not here. Only in Miandrivazo, but that is more than two hours away. Or just maybe in Malaimbandy across the bridge.'

Waking up in the prison of Malaimbandy

Over a rickety bridge and then three kilometers of sand I reach Malaimbandy. There is only one light in the village. That light comes from a shop. In front of it are three Malagasy in apparent condition. 'Vaza!' one of them shouts. 'What are you doing?' "I'm looking for a place to sleep." The owner immediately comes out and takes over the conversation. 'Walk after me. My brother lives opposite. He is the mayor of Malaimbandy. He's going to help you.'

His brother, the mayor, is hospitality itself. He first welcomes me to Malaimbandy on behalf of all residents and then asks if he can do something for me. I explain to him that I had some bad luck on the way and was unable to find a hotel. 'There is no hotel or guesthouse in Malaimbandy. But of course we can't leave you out in the cold. The only place to sleep we have is in prison. There's no one there now. So if you don't mind spending a night in jail. Then follow me.'

The mayor takes a flashlight and I follow him into a courtyard. There are two guards playing with their cell phones. "I have a guest for the night," he says. 'This vaza is looking for a bed. We can put him to sleep in jail, can't we?'

The guards give me a pillow and wish me a good night.

Sleeping place in the cozy prison of Malaimbandy

The next morning the mayor is standing in front of my cell at eight o'clock. "I want to invite you to breakfast." Of course I won't decline that offer. 'Walk after me. We're going to eat at Jeanette's. She makes the tastiest poffertjes. Nice and crispy and fresh!'

Fresh poffertjes on the market in Malaimbandy — Jeanette the poffertjes baker on the market in Malaimbandy

There I am at the Malaimbandy market having breakfast with the mayor and many other residents. 'That's how it goes here every day. Cozy right?' After the excellent breakfast, the mayor leads me to the Malaimbandy gas station.