Babakoto Part 2

 

Analamazaotra

The next day, after an early breakfast of tropical fruit, we headed to the nearby Analamazaotra National Park (an area of protected forest that makes up part of the Andasibe-Mantadia National Park) to join our guide in search of the indris once more.

 

 

To our dismay, it was raining very heavily (well, it is a rainforest after all). We knew this would significantly hinder our chances of seeing the indris, or indeed other wildlife, as they would likely be hiding from the downpour. We were waterproofed from head to toe, and I made sure to protect my camera with a water-resistant cover.

It was very muddy underfoot, but the rainforest had not lost its magic. We pushed our way through leaves, branches and vines, sometimes traversing very steep areas of the terrain. It was often hard to keep our balance with so much equipment to carry and the additional challenge of a quagmire underfoot!

It was not long before we met some more lemurs leaping gracefully through the trees. These proved to be a new species for us, the diademed sifaka. There are several species of sifaka in Madagascar and they are much more monkey-like in appearance than the ‘true lemurs’.  They were magnificent; their gorgeous russet orange coats gleamed, despite the inclement weather. We were treated to a particularly wonderful view of a mother with a young baby clinging to her back and we held our breath as she looked straight at us. It was a mesmerizing moment that we felt very fortunate to witness. Just as quickly as they appeared, the troupe (or conspiracy, which is the collective noun specifically used for lemurs) leapt off silently through the trees and out of sight.

We also saw further interesting bird species such as the blue vanga, with its dazzling azure plumage, the crested-drongo, with an incredible ability to mimic other bird calls, and the Madagascar cuckooshrike, among others.

A number of different frog species could be found hidden amongst the foliage of various plants, particularly in the many Pandanus plants whose leaves provide a pool of water for the frog.

After several hours of trekking or, more accurately, slipping through the forest, we still had not seen or heard any sign of the indris. I thought that perhaps we had already used up our luck and that yesterday’s encounter would be our only experience of these mystical creatures. There certainly wasn’t a lot of wildlife about as more heavy showers came and went.

Just when we had nearly given up hope, another local guide appeared and informed us that he had spotted a family of indris. We were delighted! Eagerly, we followed him through the undergrowth, wondering how on Earth he could remember where he had seen the indris as, to us, all the forest looked the same!

We crept as silently as we could into a clearing and there, above us in the trees, were several indris. Despite the weather, these indris were much more active than the one we had seen the day before. It was now easier to appreciate their size and grace. Reaching a height of almost 4 feet when their legs are outstretched, they are bigger than any other extant lemur. They moved with ease from branch to branch and tree to tree, their incredibly long arms swinging and grasping with perfect precision. Some individuals were tenderly grooming one another, and it was lovely to see them displaying such affection. 

After watching them for a while and looking closely through binoculars, we saw a tiny little black face with bright green eyes peeking out of its mother’s fur. Here you can see this adorable youngster. Indris have one baby every 2 or 3 years and they are usually born towards the beginning of the dry season, in May or June. Again, the photo is not the best quality, due to the challenging conditions.

And then it happened, the moment I had been hoping for. The indris started calling. It was incredible to hear this so close. In his book, Attenborough describes it as “a chorus of spine-chilling unearthly howls” but, to me, it was a beautiful sound, reminding me of whale song.

We stayed with this family for a decent amount of time, watching their behaviour. It was magical to be alone in the jungle with just our guide and these gentle forest giants.

When the indris moved off to another part of the forest, we continued our hike in search of other wildlife.

Before long, we were lucky enough to see a small group of eastern lesser bamboo lemurs as they bounced speedily past us like little turbo balls of fluff. They began to feed in a tree to our left and then took great leaps to head deeper into the forest.

Thanks to the incredible skills of our guide, we were even lucky enough to see three sleeping eastern woolly lemurs, a nocturnal species. They were all cuddled up together in a tree and one opened its huge green, glowing eyes to check us out. We would never have spotted this trio on our own, as the conditions were so dark and rainy.

After several hours in the forest, we had a break for lunch and returned to the reserve later in the evening in the hope of spotting some nocturnal wildlife.

Night Walk

It was strange to experience the light fading so early in August. By 5pm, it was pitch black; darkness the like of which one rarely sees at home where artificial light is hard to escape. At 6pm, we met our guide and explored another area of the reserve. The only light we had came from our head torches, but we knew it was important to be careful not to shine them into the eyes of any creatures. We saw all sorts of beautiful moths, frogs, insects, geckos and spiders, but were struggling to find any nocturnal lemurs. We walked for a very long time, occasionally hearing a high-pitched squeaking, which our guide informed us was a mouse lemur. However, we found it very difficult to lay eyes on one! Eventually, our guide, who had incredible eyesight, spotted an eastern rufous mouse lemur and was able to point it out to us. It was even smaller than I had imagined, and its eyes were shining bright red. With its little ears that were rotating backwards and forwards checking for all the tiniest sounds, I thought it was adorable. We didn’t stay there for long as we were anxious not to disturb it, but we were lucky enough to have sightings of more mouse lemurs before the night was over.

Unfortunately, like most lemur species, the majority of mouse lemur species are endangered. They face numerous hazards, such as habitat destruction, capture for the exotic pet trade and even hunting. Amazingly, only one species of mouse lemur had been discovered at the time Attenborough completed his Zoo Quest to Madagascar, yet now there are known to be more than 20.

Mitsinjo

The following day, we had another early start. We were keen to get going as we knew this would be our last chance to spend time with the indris and our last day with our excellent guide. This time we explored the Mitsinjo Reserve.

Our hike through the forest was adventurous as always, it being necessary to duck under, climb over or break through dense vegetation, but for quite some time we saw nothing.

At long last, our guide whispered ‘babakoto’ and we looked up to see a large group of indris right above us. I remembered that Attenborough’s guide back in 1961 had said, “call to them with their voice and often they will reply” and, sure enough, as our guide (who seemed capable of mimicking every living thing in the forest) called up to them, they started to sing. The sight of a whole family of indris, mouths open wide, singing at the top of their lungs was magical and an experience I shall never forget. The insides of their mouths were unexpectedly the brightest crimson and their sharp tongues danced as they screamed.

After this sensational experience, our luck continued as we spotted a huge Parsons chameleon, the brightest shade of jade green and about a foot in length, and later a tree boa asleep in the branches above us.

Later, we visited the Analamazaotra Forest Station, where we planted some native trees as part of an ongoing and vital project to remove the invasive eucalyptus and reforest the area with native flora.

The River

That afternoon, we decided to explore the river by canoe. It was quite hard work as we travelled against the current, but it was very peaceful, with the movement of the water and birdsong being the only sounds. There were several orb weaver spiders in huge webs suspended across the whole width of the river. Unfortunately for me, I first became aware of them when my husband shouted ‘duck’ and, being on a river, I searched for some sort of water bird, only to be struck in the face by a sticky web.

However, I was soon distracted from my horror by a group of brown lemurs feeding precariously on high branches hanging over the river, making their comical snorting sounds. Pieces of fruit fell into the water as we canoed under the branches.

The Village

That evening, we explored the village of Andasibe, visiting vibrant market stalls, trying unusual foods, and meeting the friendly locals. I was constantly surprised by how happy and welcoming the people were despite the fact that they have so little. Although the streets were very narrow they were still used by large vehicles that polluted the raw meat hanging from stalls as they drove past.

We tried several foods which were new to us, including cassava, a potato-like root vegetable, as well as guanabana and sweetsop, delicious tropical fruits.

As we headed back to our accommodation, we heard some indris singing in the distance as the sinking sun cast a beautiful glow over the forest.