Ranomafana, Part I

Our glamorous hotel.

The view across the street from the hotel.

We were up and at ’em at 5 in the morning (not a difficult feat – as I said, the sun rises early, not to mention the nagging roosters that are obnoxiously announcing their presence at any given moment, starting around 4). We were all very anxious about visiting Ranomafana, as we had been promised several different varieties of lemur – the Sportive lemur, brown lemur and red bamboo lemur. Aside from that, we would be hiking through some of the most famous and beautiful rain forest in Madagascar.

Ranomafana literally translated means ‘hot water’ – the area is also known for its hot springs. Before the National Park had been established, the town of Ranomafana had been created as a spa. The park had only been established in the relatively recent past, and had been negligibly visited until the ‘ecotourism’ boom brought floods of people eager to see rain forests in action to Madagascar. Now, Ranomafana is one of the most popular destinations on the entire island.

We were told to brace ourselves. The hike through this rain forest was going to be long, arduous, steep, and treacherous. We were ready for it, though, and we clambered into our bus and back up the rickety, winding road to the park entrance.

Due to increased interest, the rain forest was packed with people from all over the world, and one tour after another was lined up at the entrance. They took us in on intervals so overlapping would be minimal, but I was skeptical. I knew from being with my own group that any animal would cause people to stop and take pictures for at least 20 minutes – adjusting tripods, switching lenses, posing behind, above or with the creatures in any number of egregious positions – and I was sure these other groups were no different. Not that I was complaining – having to push past a tourist in a rain forest is preferable to having to squeeze past a hobo in the seventh avenue stop of the B train.

Traveler palm.

ornate sign marking our entrance.

As we entered the trail, we noticed a comet-tail moth just hanging out as if it had been placed there for our benefit – but these wonders of nature are apparently commonplace ’round those parts. We all gawked at it as if it were an alien visitor and made our way, one by one, down the steep path into the dense overgrowth of the secondary forest.

Along the way, our guide showed us something I had hoped I’d be able to see – a giraffe weevil. These weevils have elongated necks – who knows why – but they’re awesome creatures. It was much smaller than I had expected it would be – tiny, as a matter of fact – but still an imposing sight.

The giraffe weevil (Trachelophorus giraffa) is a weevil endemic to Madagascar. It derives its name from an extended neck much like that of the common giraffe. The giraffe weevil is sexually dimorphic, with the neck of the male typically being 2 to 3 times that of the female. Most of the body is black with distinctive red elytra covering the flying wings. The total body length of the males is just under an inch (2.5 cm), among the longest for any Attelabid species. The extended neck is an adaptation that assists in nest building. When it comes time to breed the father-to-be will roll and secure a leaf of the host plant, Dichaetanthera cordifolia (a small tree in the family Melastomataceae), at which point the female will lay a single egg within the tube.

Giraffe weevil - one of the best insects EVER.

Rain forest magic.

Babbling brook.

Some things you expect to see in a rain forest in Madagascar. This is not one of them. I don't know who it belonged to, but I had to take a picture.

Babbling brook II. The bridge across it only held four people at a time. I felt a bit like I was in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

Bamboo lemurs eat this crap.

Gecko.

Sportive lemur high up in the trees, looking at us all as if we're retarded.

Now, the tour guides in this rain forest ran us ragged – up hills, down them, through dense growth – it all got a little crazy. They took us off the path if there was even a HINT of a lemur, gecko, frog, anything that would cause us to salivate appropriately. I have to say, the guides’ cavalier attitudes toward the plant life in the forest was a little unsettling. They dragged us through dangerous terrain, crashing baby trees over, stomping plants, making a mess of things – and it wasn’t just my group – all groups were being scuttled through the forest in random patches in order to see creatures. (Yes, I voiced my displeasure and concern and hope that it will be taken seriously. This rain forest reserve was originally established by a VERY STAUNCH environmentalist, so I’m sure things will be handled accordingly.)

Hiding in plain sight.

Rain forest glamour.

A view from the pinnacle, or Belle Vue as it has been appropriately named.

We reached a resting point on a platform that overlooked a lush, deeply forested valley. It was named Belle Vue – apparently, when this park was established, scientists camped out at this site in order to study the nocturnal creatures of the park, such as the mouse lemur. We were told that we would be coming back to this area later this evening for our “night walk,” where we would be able to see these creatures in action. Most of us quivered with excitement – some were already pooped. After a brief rest, we started our hike back down and into exciting and glamorous rain forest.

Rain forest glamour.

A tangle o' vines.

We were told that all of the rain forest we had been visiting was secondary forest – the original trees had long ago been cut down, and this was all newer growth. There was, indeed, still primary forest in this park – but in order to get to it one would have to camp for a few days. I would have loved to take a peek at the primary forest, but that wasn’t in the plan. Perhaps next time.

On and on we hiked – up and down and up – until we came to something very depressing – the end of the protected land. We could tell it was the end before our tour guide even said, “The park ends here.”

The end of protection. I'm sure the difference is evident.