Exceptional treks: from the granite of Andringitra to the canyons of Isalo and Makay

We leave Antananarivo via National Road 7, heading south. We drive across the back of the Highlands, an ancient bedrock of granite and gneiss worn by time, whose rounded hills bear red earth, laterite, which gave the island its nickname of the Great Red Island. In every valley hollow, water is harnessed: terraced rice paddies follow the contour lines and change color with the seasons.

The road is winding, bordered by a mosaic of fields and crops. We pass through villages with brick houses, multi-story with wooden balconies and thatched or tiled roofs. The bricks are made locally, from the clay of the rice paddies, fired in open-air kilns that we see smoking along the roadside.

We pass Ambatolampy, at the foot of the volcanic Ankaratra massif, whose pine and eucalyptus plantations cover the slopes. Wood is cut there for charcoal that fuels the capital's kitchens, and sacks pile up along the roadside. The bare hillsides remind us how much the energy question weighs on the island's forests.

We are going to meet a dynamic and ever-present farming world. As we approach Antsirabe, agricultural products spread along the roadside: potatoes, carrots, cabbages, seasonal fruits, which women sell in small carefully aligned piles.

Antsirabe, at nearly 1,500 meters altitude, developed around its thermal springs during the colonial era, and retains beautiful facades and the old Thermes hotel. The surrounding reliefs, cones and crater lakes, remind us that this plateau has experienced recent volcanic activity. It is also the city of pousse-pousse, which ensure most of the transport along its wide avenues.

In the afternoon, we can stroll through the city, by pousse-pousse or on foot, and visit a few craftsmen's workshops: making miniature bikes and cars from recycled materials, working with zebu horn.

We settle into an eco-lodge, in a peaceful setting, for a first night on the road south.

Route: approximately 170 km, 4 hours including stops.

Due south, along national road 7, we discover a mountainous landscape, with a beautiful alternation of agricultural valleys and mountain passes. The road is lovely and allows a gentle approach to the south of the Highlands. At each pass, the view opens onto new valleys, and the terraced rice paddies draw staircases up to the hilltops.

We enter Betsileo country. The Betsileo are renowned as the island's finest rice farmers: their terraces, built and maintained over generations, conform to the steepest slopes with remarkable precision. Here, life is rhythmed by rice cultivation and the raising of zebu cattle. Depending on the season, we see farmers ploughing with their oxen, transplanting young seedlings or harvesting with a sickle.

Along the way, we pass through Ambositra, the capital of wood craftsmanship. The region's sculptors, heirs to the Zafimaniry whose expertise is recognized by UNESCO, work with rosewood and other precious woods. We can make a stop in a few workshops, before resuming our journey south.

Forests of pine and eucalyptus alternate with savannas, and the villages become more spaced out. The Betsileo houses, in red earth, with their upper storey and their two-pitched roofs, cling to the slopes above the rice paddies.

As evening falls, Fianarantsoa comes into view on a cluster of hills that recalls Antananarivo. The city is divided into three parts. The upper town, where the Merina governor's palace once stood, is home to Protestant temples, a brick cathedral and small cobbled alleyways, from which the view embraces the entire region. The new town is the quarter of administration and the great market. The lower town is the commercial heart of the city.

If time permits, we climb on foot into the upper town to enjoy the evening light on the roofs and hills. At dinner, we taste the specialties of the region.

Tomorrow, we leave the road for the trails. This evening, we prepare our bags for the Andringitra trek: the bulk of our luggage will travel with the porters.

Route: approximately 250 km, 7 to 8 hours including stops.

Through a patchwork of terraced rice fields and crops displaying every shade of green, we take the road to Ambalavao, a small town in the Betsileo country known for its vineyards, its antemoro paper and its large zebu market. The landscape changes: the hills lower, the first granite domes appear, and the horizon bristles with mountains.

At Ambalavao, we leave national road 7. A chaotic track takes us eastwards, through villages and rice fields, to Ambalamanandray, at the eastern gate of Andringitra National Park. The great granite cliffs rise before us.

At the entrance to the park, our local team joins us: a park guide and the porters from Ambalamanandray, who will accompany us for the three days of the trek. Andringitra National Park, created in 1999, protects one of Madagascar's richest mountain ranges. It extends from humid forest on the eastern slope to the grasslands and rocks of the high plateaus.

For a first warm-up, we set off on foot along a beautiful trail between forests and waterfalls. The path climbs steadily through dense vegetation, crosses streams and runs alongside small waterfalls. Along the way, our guide introduces us to the sacred waterfalls of the region, places inhabited by spirits and subject to prohibitions, the fady, which we respect.

Gradually, the forest gives way to open spaces, covered in grasslands, heaths and small shrubs. Granite outcrops everywhere, in slabs and domes. We reach the Andriampotsy plateau, around 2,000 metres altitude, the base camp for Boby Peak.

The team pitches the tents and the cook lights the fire. Evening falls quickly at altitude, and the cool air with it. From June to August, frosts are frequent on the plateau, but in May and September, nights remain cold without being freezing. A hot tea and a hearty dinner warm us up before a night under a remarkably clear sky.

At the camp, the team sorts waste into coloured bags and carries it back down the mountain. This is a rule on all our treks.

Road and track: approximately 3 hours. Walking: approximately 4 hours, 10 km.

The alarm sounds before dawn. By the light of our headlamps, we leave the Andriampotsy camp for the ascent of Boby Peak, which the locals call Imarivolanitra, "close to the sky". At 2,658 meters, it is Madagascar's second highest summit.

The well-marked trail climbs the granite slopes through a series of switchbacks. The air is crisp, often freezing before sunrise, and we climb at our own pace. Gradually, the sky brightens to the east and the ridges of Andringitra emerge from the shadow.

At the summit, the panorama embraces the entire massif. To the west, the plateaus descend in steps toward the Bara country, which we will cross in two days. To the east, the mountain plunges toward humid forests and, when the sky is clear enough, we can see the East coast and the Indian Ocean in the distance. The Andringitra granites formed deep underground more than 500 million years ago, then were slowly exposed by erosion.

After a break at the summit, we descend back to camp for a well-deserved breakfast, then we resume our march westward. We cross a lunar plateau, where rocks sculpted by erosion take such strange shapes that the locals nicknamed it the "alien plateau". Between the boulders, small streams wind through the peat bogs.

The trail then descends toward more sheltered valleys, where the air warms. We enter a forest of Ravenea glauca palms, a species that grows only in this region of Madagascar. Their slender trunks and blue-green fronds create an unexpected setting amid the granite. With a bit of luck, we spot ring-tailed lemurs, which live here at surprisingly high altitudes for this species.

In late afternoon, we arrive at the Iantaranomby camp, set on the banks of a beautiful river, where we can refresh ourselves. After the long day, the bivouac by the water is a moment of relaxation appreciated by all.

In the evening, around the fire, the porters sometimes sing, and the guide tells the legends of the massif. The night is milder than at Andriampotsy.

Hiking: approximately 2 hours for the ascent, then 5 to 6 hours of descent, 12 km.

Our last hike in the Andringitra leads us westward, to the heart of the Tsaranoro valley. The trail descends between granite blocks and fields, and villages reappear. Before us rises the Tsaranoro, an immense rock whose western face, several hundred meters high, is one of the largest rock faces in Madagascar, highly prized by climbers.

The valley is one of the most beautiful places on the island. Rice fields, crops and villages with red earth houses spread out at the foot of the cliffs, and preserved forest fragments still shelter ring-tailed lemurs. Late in the morning, we return to our vehicles, and say goodbye to the park guide and the porters who accompanied us for these three days.

After lunch, we take the road toward the southwest. It enters Bara country and crosses the Horombe plateau, the largest plateau in Madagascar. Vast expanses of savanna and grassy steppes stretch as far as the eye can see, barely interrupted by a few palm trees, termite mounds and rare villages. The immense sky and the golden light of the afternoon give this landscape an unexpected grandeur.

These expanses are the country of the Bara, a people of zebu herders, for whom the herd remains the measure of all wealth. We sometimes encounter cowherd driving their cattle, on foot, for dozens of kilometers.

Gradually, a long barrier of ruiniform sandstone emerges on the horizon: it is the Isalo massif. Its cliffs, domes and towers, sculpted by erosion, change color with the light, from gray to ochre and red. The contrast with the granites we have just left is striking.

At the end of the day, we arrive at the village of Ranohira, on the outskirts of the massif. We settle into a hotel at the foot of the cliffs, for one night of comfort before the fifteen nights of camping that await us in the Isalo and Makay.

A hot shower, a real bed, and the sunset over the Isalo sandstones: enough to regain our strength.

Hike: approximately 3 hours 30 minutes, 7 km. Road: approximately 220 km, 5 hours.

We resume the track heading north of Isalo, accompanied by our porters and the park guide. The track runs along the eastern cliff of the massif: a sandstone wall stretching for dozens of kilometers, cut into towers, domes and corridors. The colors of the sandstone change with the hour, and the morning light highlights every relief.

Isalo is a sandstone massif deposited more than 200 million years ago by ancient rivers, then uplifted and carved by water. It resembles the great sandstone massifs of the Sahara, the tasilis: the Tassili n'Ajjer, the Tassili du Hoggar, the Adrar mauritanien and especially the Ennedi tchadien. Same geological history, same ruiniform shapes, same plays of light, under a dry tropical climate instead of the hyperarid Saharan climate.

We reach the village of Andriamanero, at the foot of the massif. Here our walk begins. Northern Isalo is wild and little known: the park's classic circuits concentrate in the south, around Ranohira, and few travelers venture this far.

On foot, we reach our bivouac site, through the savannas and the first sandstone reliefs. The path follows dry valleys, then climbs toward the plateau. The vegetation is that of an arid environment: tough grasses, thorny shrubs, and sometimes a pachypodium, these small trees with swollen trunks that store water and grow directly on the rock.

At the end of the day, we set up our tents at the foot of the cliffs. The setting sun sets the sandstone ablaze, then the sky fills with stars. The night is mild, and the silence is only disturbed by the song of crickets.

Our porters come from villages in the region. They know every passage and every water point, and willingly share with us the names and uses of plants. At the bivouac, the team sets up camp, prepares meals and sorts waste, which leaves the massif with us.

This first evening in Isalo is an opportunity to discover a new team, and to understand why we came all the way here: to walk in an Isalo that almost no one knows.

Track: approximately 2 h 30, 27 km. Walk: approximately 3 hours, 8 km.

We begin our walk toward the Ambovo plateau, which we skirt to reach the viewpoint at Amparambatomanara. Cliffs, tapia forests, savannas and strangely shaped eroded rocks succeed one another. From the viewpoint, the gaze embraces the entire north of the massif: a tangle of canyons, domes and plateaus that disappears into the heat haze.

Tapias are small trees with thick bark that resist fire. They form open forests, typical of the Western Highlands, and the caterpillars that live on their leaves produce wild silk that inhabitants have harvested for centuries to weave shrouds.

Along the way, our guide shows us plants adapted to the arid climate: aloe, euphorbia, pachypodiums and kalanchoes.

After lunch, we descend into the Ankotrakotraka canyon. The contrast with the plateau is striking: shade, coolness, water, and denser vegetation at the foot of the walls.

We then reach the Teniky site, which locals call the Cave of the Portuguese. Tradition attributes it to Portuguese navigators shipwrecked in the 16th century, but recent research tells a very different story. The site is far more vast than what was previously known: nearly eight square kilometers of niches carved into the rock, quarries, around a hundred terraces, stone walls and basins. Charcoal dates the occupation to the 10th-12th centuries, long before the Portuguese arrived, and thousands of fragments of Chinese pottery have been found there.

A team from the University of Bern, led by Guido Schreurs, works with Malagasy researchers, including archaeologist Chantal Radimilahy, a major figure in Malagasy archaeology and former director of the Museum of Art and Archaeology at the University of Antananarivo. She connects these niches to astodans, the Zoroastrian ossuaries of Fars, in Persia. She sees in them a possible necropolis of exiles who remained faithful to the ancient cult. Research is ongoing, and the site, lost deep in Isalo, more than two hundred kilometers from the coast, still holds much mystery. We visit it with respect, listening to our guide.

At the end of the day, we set up camp for the night, not far from the Sahanafo forest.

This is one of the richest days of the journey, for the diversity of landscapes crossed and for the history of this place, which connects the heart of Isalo to the great trade routes of the Indian Ocean.

Walk: approximately 8 hours, 20 km.

In the early morning, the raking light glides over the sandstone cliffs and awakens the colors of the massif. We set out on foot towards the Sahanafo forest, one of the rare forests in northern Isalo, sheltered in the hollow of a valley where water is maintained year-round.

The contrast with the plateau is total. Under the tall trees, the air is cool and humid, lianas descend from the branches, and the ground is covered with leaves. This forest is a refuge for wildlife, isolated in the middle of savannas and sandstone. We search here for sifakas, these Verreaux's sifakas with white fur and black faces, which live here in their natural habitat.

Sifakas move by spectacular bounds from tree to tree, their legs folded under their bodies, and sometimes descend to the ground to cross a clearing by hopping sideways. Early in the morning, they warm themselves in the sun, arms outstretched, on the highest branches. We approach them in silence, with our guide, who knows their habits.

The forest is also home to brown lemurs, numerous birds, chameleons and amazing insects. We take time to observe, listen and photograph, without disturbing anything.

We return to camp for lunch, in the shade. In the afternoon, we resume our walk towards the Ambovo plateau. The trail climbs up through rocks and savannas, and the view opens again onto the cliffs and canyons of northern Isalo.

At the end of the day, we set up our camp on the plateau. The sunset over the sandstone is magnificent, and at night, far from any light, the southern sky is covered with stars. The Southern Cross and the Magellanic Clouds are clearly visible.

This last evening in Isalo is an opportunity to reflect on these three days of hiking off the beaten path. Tomorrow, we leave the massif to reach Makay, further north, beyond the great Mangoky river.

Northern Isalo and its forests are fragile. We remain discreet there, we leave no trace, and all waste from the camp is taken out of the massif with the team.

Hiking: approximately 6 hours.

Early in the morning, we resume our walk towards Tameasoa, at the edge of the massif, where our vehicles await us. We say goodbye to the Isalo team, before taking the track towards the northwest.

The track crosses large savannas, dotted with satrana palms, tamarind trees and termite mounds. Villages are rare, and herds of zebu cattle graze in the vast open spaces. The sky is immense, and the heat rises as we lose altitude.

We reach the Mangoky, the longest river on the west coast of Madagascar. It originates on the Highlands and flows into the Mozambique Channel, after crossing much of the island's southwest. Here, it is wide and sluggish, and its sandy banks are lined with large trees. The crossing is made by ferry, always a lively moment: vehicles, carts, pedestrians and zebu cattle share the crossing.

On the other side, we reach Beroroha, the district capital, a small isolated town that lives off livestock, agriculture and commerce along the river. We make a stop there, taking time to do some shopping and refresh ourselves.

The track continues north. Before us, the first cliffs of Makay appear on the horizon: a long barrier of sandstone announcing Madagascar's largest ruiniform massif. The Makay extends northward the Isalo massif, with which it shares the same geological history, but it is much vaster, more isolated and more wild.

In late afternoon, we arrive at the village of Beronono, south of the massif. We meet our new team: local guide, porters, cook and his assistants, all from the bara villages of the region. They will accompany us during the five days of trekking in southern Makay.

We set up camp just at the edge of the Makay river. In the evening, the team introduces itself, and we get to know each other around the fire. Makay begins here.

The nearby cliffs blaze in the sunset, and the first sounds of the night rise from the river.

Walking: approximately 1 hour. Track: approximately 6 to 7 hours including the ferry and stops.

We start our walk along the Makay River, in the cool of the morning. The water is clear, the riverbed sandy white, and the great sandstone cliffs rise up on either side of the valley. The banks are lined with palm trees, reeds and trees that provide shade for our journey.

Makay is a ruiniform sedimentary plateau, composed of friable sandstone. Slight tectonic movements fractured the plateau along regular lines, and water rushed into each fissure. It has carved out canyons, isolated towers and domes, sculpted arches and pools. Seen from above, the massif resembles a labyrinth, and that is indeed what it is.

We then cross a small forest, which leads us to the foot of the Mahatiny cave. Rock paintings remain on its walls, most of which depict simple geometric patterns. These paintings are among the rare traces left in the massif by those who walked through it before us. We observe them without touching them, and our guide explains to us what the inhabitants say about them.

After lunch, we take a small path that climbs up a ridge. From up there, we have an overview of the massif: tabular buttes, rounded domes, fissures shrouded in shadow, and the Makay River valley winding at our feet.

Makay is a refuge for wildlife. Eleven species of lemurs live there, as well as more than a hundred species of birds, reptiles and amphibians. Isolated from the world in the depths of the canyons, animals and plants have evolved apart, to the point of giving rise to species unique to the massif.

In late afternoon, we descend back to the banks of the Makay River, where the team sets up camp. A bath in the clear water is a welcome moment after the day's heat.

In the evening, around the fire, the porters tell stories of life in the bara villages, the herding of zebu and the great gatherings of herds. The sky fills with stars above the cliffs.

Tomorrow, we will gain altitude to discover the lakes of the massif.

Walk: approximately 6 hours, 17 km.

After breakfast, we start with a short walk through the reeds, then we reach a large ridgeline. The landscape opens up: on one side, the faults and canyons of the massif; on the other, two lakes that shimmer at the bottom of a basin, surrounded by vegetation.

These lakes in the southern Makay are a surprise in a massif where water hides deep within the canyons. They formed in depressions of the plateau, where water accumulates during the rainy season and persists for much of the year.

Here, parrots are omnipresent. Their harsh cries echo through the long corridors of sandstone, and we see them passing in noisy groups above the cliffs. A few raptors soar above the mountains: buzzards, kites and striped polyboroides, raptors capable of hunting their prey even in rock crevices.

We picnic on the ridge, facing the lakes. In the afternoon, a short technical descent through the rocks requires some attention. Our local guide shows us the best passage, and mutual support naturally settles in within the group.

We arrive at Lake Anosilahy. Its calm waters reflect the cliffs, and its shores are frequented by birds. We then follow a small river upstream, our feet in the water, until we reach the bivouac site.

Walking in the river is part of the Makay experience: water is the road, and it opens the passage between the walls. Hiking sandals or old lightweight shoes are essential, and feet dry quickly in the evening, by the fire.

The team sets up camp on a sandbank. The cook prepares dinner with fresh products brought from the villages, and we enjoy the calm of the evening. The southern Makay is even more isolated than the northern part of the massif: here, we meet no one, and the silence is complete.

This day, between ridges, lakes and river, demonstrates the diversity of Makay, where each hour of hiking brings a new landscape.

Tomorrow, a deep gorge awaits us, and one of the most beautiful lakes in the massif.

Hiking: approximately 6 hours, 10 km.

We start the day directly in the water, to explore a superb deep gorge. The walls draw closer together, light falls from above, and surprising vegetation grows inside the gorge: ferns, mosses clinging to seepage, pandanus and palm trees seeking the light.

Water has sculpted the rock in an astounding way: giant's potholes, grooves, overhangs shaped like frozen waves. Iron oxides tint the sandstone red, orange and violet, and the colors change at every hour of the day. We move slowly, for the pleasure of looking, and photographers find their happiness here.

The walls tell the story of the rock. We read oblique stratifications, traces of ancient dunes or river channels frozen in sandstone, harder levels that form cornices, softer levels that recede in overhangs.

Late in the morning, we leave the gorge and join the plateau by a steep path. On the plateau, the soil is sandy and poor, covered with a savanna of hard grasses that fire regularly sweeps through. A few trees resist, twisted by the wind, and termite mounds stand their silhouettes among the grasses. The sun beats down hard, and we appreciate every shadow.

After lunch, we descend into another canyon, which leads us to Lake Sariaka. This lake, nestled at the foot of the cliffs, is one of the most beautiful sites in the south of the massif. The bivouac is set up not far from its shores.

The day is shorter than the previous ones, and the afternoon leaves us time to enjoy the place: swimming, reading, washing, or simple contemplation of the cliffs that light up at sunset.

In the evening, the team teaches us a few words of Malagasy and some bara songs. The porters are proud of their massif, and they like to make it known to those who come from far away to trek through it.

This gorge and this lake are among the most secret places on the journey. Few travelers have seen them, and their beauty remains intact.

Hiking: approximately 3 hours in the gorge and on the plateau, 18 km in total.

We leave Lake Sariaka to reach the village of Beronono, the last stage of our loop in the south of the massif. Half a day of walking awaits us, through canyons and plateaus, on paths that the porters know by heart.

The route alternates between passages through the bottom of valleys, climbs to the ridges and crossings of savannas. From the heights, we take one last look at the southern Makay, its buttes, its lakes and its crevasses, which fade into the heat haze.

As we descend back to the valley, the landscape becomes more human. The first herds of zebu graze on the slopes, fields of cassava and corn surround the huts, and children come to meet us. We return to Beronono and the Makay River, which we had left five days earlier.

We arrive at the village at midday, for lunch. The afternoon is free: we can refresh ourselves by the Makay River, stroll through the village, do some laundry or simply rest in the shade.

Beronono is an isolated bara village that lives from herding and agriculture. The inhabitants welcome us with simplicity, and exchanges happen naturally, with the help of our guide. Our porters come from this village and neighboring villages: their wages and the trek bonuses are an important resource for their families.

In the evening, the night is lively with the porters and guide. It is the last evening with this team: songs, dances and laughter accompany dinner, and we share the joy of having traveled together through a massif that almost no one knows.

The bags of waste, sorted throughout the trek in their colored bags, leave the massif with us. This is a rule that the entire team applies, from the first to the last day, and that we gladly explain to travelers.

This transition day marks the end of the first part of the Makay. Tomorrow, we head north to reach the most spectacular part of the massif.

Before sleeping, we prepare the bags for the long day on the trail.

Walking: approximately 4 hours, 12 km.

Early in the morning, we break camp and say goodbye to our porters and the villagers of Beronono. A long day on the track awaits us, in a 4x4, running parallel to the massif, heading north.

The track is difficult, often sandy, sometimes damaged by the rains of the previous season. We cross small dry forests, a few villages and almost abandoned trails, where our drivers must find their way. The pace is slow, but the landscape unfolds, always dominated to the west by the Makay sandstone barrier.

We cross the great valley that separates the crystalline bedrock of the Highlands from the sedimentary plateaus of the West. It is a ranching region, sparsely populated, where herds of zebus travel over great distances. We pass cattle herders, carts and sometimes a truck loaded to the roof, moving at a crawl.

At noon, we picnic in the shade of a large tree, by the side of the track. In the afternoon, before reaching camp, we pass through the small town of Mandronarivo, where cold drinks await us. It is a moment of life and activity, after several days in the solitude of the massif.

At the end of the day, we arrive at the camp site, at the foot of the cliffs of northern Makay. We are joined by our new team: local guide, porters, cook and his assistants, all from the bara villages in the north of the massif. They will accompany us during the six days of the crossing, until Tsiazorambo.

We set up the tents and watch the spectacle of a splendid sunset over the sandstone. The cliffs blaze, then fade, and the sky fills with stars.

This day on the track is long, but it gives us a measure of the immensity of Makay and its isolation. It also allows us to understand how the inhabitants of this region live, far from everything, at the rhythm of their herds and the seasons.

Distances in the West are not counted in kilometers but in hours. Our team knows these tracks well and adapts the pace, always planning a margin to arrive before nightfall.

Track: approximately 8 hours, 90 km.

Our great crossing of northern Makay begins, from Sakeny to Tsiazorambo. Along a river bed of white sand, we penetrate between the tall, watered sandstone cliffs. The contrast is striking: within minutes, we leave the sun-baked savanna for the shade and coolness of the rock walls.

This major fissure gives us access to the Andranomite cave. It has always served as shelter for those crossing the massif from east to west: cattle herders, travelers, merchants. We make a stop there, and our guide tells us how men have traveled through this labyrinth for generations, knowing every passage and every water source.

We then plunge into the heart of the massif. A network of dry canyons cuts into the wildest part of Makay. The sand crunches under our feet, the walls draw closer, and light falls from above in broad rays. The highest point of Makay dominates our path.

Gradually, water appears. Multiple varieties of palms and ferns populate the banks of the gorge, and the river bed is covered with clear pools. The lemurs, unaccustomed to humans, watch us from the branches before slipping into the canopy. We catch glimpses of them more than we observe them.

Makay is a tassili, in the sense that the Tuaregs understand it: a sandstone plateau carved by water. For anyone familiar with the Sahara, the kinship is striking: the same cliffs, the same corridors, the same play of light, but here, water is still present, and life with it.

Our bivouac is set up on the banks of the river, between the great dark cliffs. The cook lights the fire, the porters set up camp, and we enjoy the calm of the evening. At night, the sounds of the forest and water replace those of the villages.

This is the first day of the great crossing of northern Makay: six days from south to north, through the most beautiful canyons of the massif, until the village of Tsiazorambo.

The porters of this new team already show us, with pride, the first secrets of their massif.

Hiking: approximately 7 hours, 19 km.

Leaving the bivouac, we leave the river bed to follow a slope that leads to the ridge line, 400 meters higher. The climb is sustained, but the view that opens at every step rewards the effort: the massif unfolds at our feet, in buttes, domes and rifts.

A short rocky passage, without technical difficulty, adds some spice to our progress: a safety rope, installed by the team, allows us to cross it serenely. Mutual aid settles naturally in the group, and the porters, laden with supplies, pass with an ease that commands admiration.

We then follow a splendid balcony trail, which overlooks the eastern plain bordering the plateau. The atmospheres are superb, the horizons distant. To the east, the great furrow extends to the first reliefs of the Highlands; to the west, the heart of the massif is lost in an entanglement of canyons.

A few latania palms, on a wide pass, mark the entrance to a new hydrographic basin and new gorges. From here, the logic of the massif becomes apparent: the rivers follow the fractures of the plateau, intersect at right angles, sink into canyons and draw a grid that only walking allows us to understand.

We descend into these wooded gorges, where we have a strong chance of seeing lemurs. Two species coexist there: the brown lemur with reddish brow and Verreaux's sifaka, with white fur. The sifakas move by spectacular leaps from tree to tree, while the brown lemurs live in noisy groups in the canopy.

At the bottom of the canyons, sheltered from fire and man, each gorge functions as an island within an island. Botanists still discover unknown plants there, and the massif remains one of the great reservoirs of biodiversity in Madagascar.

The bivouac is set up by the water's edge, on a sandbank, in the shade of large trees. In the evening, the song of frogs and the murmur of the river accompany dinner.

This day, between ridges and gorges, sums up everything that makes Makay beautiful: the immensity of the plateaus and the intimacy of the canyons.

Hiking: approximately 7 hours, 18 km, with an ascent of 400 meters.

This great day takes us west of the ruiniform sandstone barrier. The deep gorge of the Sakamaly River cuts through the massif for kilometers, and it is this that traces our path. The walls rise on either side, tens of meters high, and light falls from above in long rays.

It is a truly aquatic day. We walk in the water for much of the time, sometimes up to our knees, sometimes higher, on a bed of sand and pebbles. The water is clear and cool, and the slow progress leaves time to observe.

The fault shelters a beautiful forest with majestic trees, which benefit from the water and shade. Lemur families populate the canopy, visible from time to time. Crocodiles are also present in the gorge: discreet, they flee at our approach, but their tracks on the sand banks do not deceive. The local guide teaches us to recognize them, as well as those of other animals.

Still, we must be careful of certain plants in the massif. The bararata are reeds with cutting leaves. The takilotra, a variety of itching pea, cause severe itching. The karibo, a kind of thorny shrub, often hide in the grass. Our guide points them out to us, and we quickly learn to avoid them.

At noon, we picnic on a sand bank, in the shade of the walls. In the afternoon, the gorge sometimes widens into small plains, then narrows again. Each bend reveals a new setting: a waterfall, a deep pool, a wall colored by iron oxides.

The Makay is one of the most preserved massifs in Madagascar. Madagascar National Parks has just obtained its management, and the protection of its canyons is a major issue. We remain discreet there: no trace, no waste, and the greatest respect for this natural heritage.

At the end of the day, the bivouac is set up at the bottom of the fault, on a sand beach, between the great walls. The fire crackles, the porters sing, and we savor the cool of the evening after a day spent in the water.

This day is one of the strongest of the trip, through the intimacy of the gorge and the sensation of being alone in the world.

Hiking: approximately 8 hours, largely in the water.

Early in the day, after a couple of hours of walking in the savanna, we reach a very tumultuous region: a tangle of faults, ridgelines and corridors resembling great mazes. The inhabitants call them the sakasaka, these small winding valleys where one must know the passage.

By a complex route, we navigate more than we walk through this labyrinth. The plateau is here cut into blades, hillocks and corridors, and only a guide who knows the massif knows which breach to pass through. Our porters advance without hesitation, as if reading an invisible map.

This winding path gives us access to the major fault of Sakapaly, which spills out to the east of the massif. From the heights, the 360° panoramas are magnificent: canyons, faults, peaks and peneplains succeed one another to the horizon.

We descend into the gorge. Water has sculpted the rock in an astonishing way: giant potholes, fluting, overhangs shaped like frozen waves. Iron oxides tint the sandstone red, orange and violet, and the light falling from above changes these colors with each hour of the day.

Then the river becomes flat and the canyon opens up. We emerge into a wide wooded valley, onto immaculate white sand. Here grows the Ravenea lakatra, a threatened palm tree whose last large wild population is sheltered by Makay. The gallery forest follows the watercourse: it is there that lemurs live, and it is there that we have the best chance of seeing them, in the early morning or at the end of the day.

We set up camp in this valley, on the white sand. The afternoon at camp is an opportunity to swim, read, do a bit of laundry, or accompany the guide in search of lemurs.

In the evening, the cook prepares a hearty dinner, and the team gathers around the fire. The nights of Makay, far from any light, offer a sky of exceptional purity.

This day, between labyrinths and forest, is one of the finest of the trek. It shows all the complexity of Makay, and all its richness.

Walking: approximately 6 hours, 18 km.

This morning, our caravan travels at the foot of the cliffs on an easy-going route, then reaches the plateau. The view opens again onto the immensity of the massif: tabular buttes, rounded domes, fissures filled with shadow. The objective is now to reach a narrow fissure, covered with pandanus, palm trees and ferns, which opens the passage towards the great Manampanda basin.

We descend into this gorge with pandanus, and our progression unfolds again with our feet in the water, in a lush vegetation environment. The pandanus, with their spiral leaves and stilt roots, form veritable groves. The lemurs, very much present, disappear into the canopy as we approach.

At our feet, caught in the blocks of the riverbed, petrified wood bears witness to a fossil forest. These trunks, buried in sediments millions of years ago, have had their organic matter replaced, molecule by molecule, by silica. They have kept their growth rings, their bark, sometimes their knots. These silicified witnesses are precious for the study of geology, paleobotany and paleoenvironments. We look at them, photograph them, and leave them in their place: this unique heritage is to be protected.

Further on, our tributary joins the Manampanda river, and the flow suddenly becomes much more important. The river has swelled with all the waters from the canyons, and we find it again wide, clear and powerful.

Birds are numerous along the banks, and the traces in the sand tell the story of the nocturnal life of the massif. We picnic in the shade, by the water's edge.

Our camp is established on a beautiful sandy beach, by the river. It is the last night in the massif, and the team prepares a festive dinner. Around the fire, the porters sing, and we share the joy of these six days of crossing.

This last evening in the Makay is a highlight of the journey. After three weeks of walking, the team has become familiar, and the massif has revealed some of its secrets to us.

Hiking: approximately 7 hours, 19 km, largely in water.

For a good hour, we continue to follow the Manampanda River, in the coolness of the morning. Then we leave it to reach the plateau. From the ridge line, we cast one last look towards the heart of the massif, its buttes and fissures disappearing into the heat haze. The Makay recedes, and with it the silence of the canyons, the sound of water and nights on the sand.

We then descend towards the Bara villages on the northern periphery of the massif. The landscape becomes more human: the paths widen, the first herds of zebu graze on the slopes, fields of cassava and corn surround the huts. The children see us arriving from afar and come to meet us.

We reach the village of Tsiazorambo in the afternoon. Our vehicles are there, as planned: our drivers are waiting for us in the village, where they are staying in a Détours hut, safe and secure.

Tsiazorambo is a village we know well. Our driver-guides have set up a literacy and training program for the adults of the village, and we are preparing the installation of a dryer for wild mangoes, to diversify the community's income. The inhabitants welcome us as old friends.

Our porters, our cooks and the local guide come from these villages. Their pay, the trekking bonuses and the work they find with us each season are an important resource for their families. At the camp, we practice precise selective sorting, in colored bags, and all waste leaves the massif with us.

This is the end of our journey in this magnificent massif. The evening is dedicated to conviviality and the joy of having lived a beautiful adventure together: the travelers, the porters, the pathfinder, the guide and the entire Détours Madagascar team. After three weeks of hiking, the emotion is there.

We spend one last night under canvas, in the village, under a starry sky. Tomorrow, the track and then the road will take us back to the Highlands.

The children of the village, curious, move around the camp until nightfall.

Hike: approximately 4 hours, 14 km.

After breakfast, we fold up the tents and say goodbye to the porters and trackers. Farewells are always emotional after several days of shared life. We get back into our 4x4s to head out on the northern trail from the massif.

The track crosses a savanna dotted with satrana palms and tamarind trees, and drops us at Malaimbandy, where we rejoin the paved road. National road 34 then takes us to Miandrivazo, along the Mahajilo, a river that flows down from the Highlands and joins the Tsiribihina further downstream. Miandrivazo is reputed to be one of the hottest cities in Madagascar.

After lunch, we climb the great staircase of the Highlands. This is one of Madagascar's most beautiful roads, because it crosses a complete change of landscape in just a few hours. The road winds upward in hairpin turns above the Mahajilo valley. The savannas and ravined mountains of the Bongolava, carved with lavaka—those great red scars opened into the hillsides—give way to the first terraced rice paddies.

Gradually, villages with brick-red houses and thatched roofs reappear. The temperature drops as we gain altitude, and the air of the Highlands feels almost cool after the heat of the West.

By the end of the day, we reach Antsirabe, capital of the Vakinankaratra region. We return to our ecolodge from the start of the journey, a hot shower and a real bed, after fifteen nights of camping.

Dinner is an opportunity to celebrate the end of our adventure. We reflect on these three weeks: the granite and cold of Andringitra, the mystery of northern Isalo, the lakes of southern Makay and the canyons of northern Makay.

This journey crossed three massifs, three different geologies and three distinct atmospheres, with several teams of porters, each proud of their territory. It provides a rare vision of the diversity of Madagascar's landscapes and the people who live there.

Tomorrow, one last morning in Antsirabe awaits us, before the road back to the capital.

Track: approximately 2 hours, 30 km. Road: approximately 8 hours, 335 km.

We take advantage of the morning to stroll through Antsirabe. We can take a ride in a pousse-pousse through the wide avenues, visit the market or visit a few craftsmen: making miniatures of bicycles and cars from recycled materials, working with zebu horn.

We then take national road 7 heading north. Rice paddies and villages characteristic of the Highlands shape the landscape. Along the road, brick factories smoke at the edge of the rice paddies, and fruit and vegetable stalls announce the markets of the towns.

We pass at the foot of the Ankaratra massif, whose highest point, Tsiafajavona, is the third peak of Madagascar. Volcanic reliefs, pine and eucalyptus forests and rice paddies make up a high mountain landscape, where the inhabitants readily wear the lamba, the large cloth draped over the shoulders.

We have lunch along the way, then we continue towards Antananarivo in the afternoon. Villages become denser as we approach the capital, and traffic intensifies.

In the evening, our team accompanies us to Ivato international airport and assists us with boarding, according to the return flight schedule.

This journey took us across three of Madagascar's most beautiful massifs, on foot, for nearly three weeks. We hope it will leave everyone with the memory of Pic Boby at sunrise, the secret forests of northern Isalo, the lakes and canyons of Makay, but also the encounters made along the way, with the inhabitants of villages and with all the teams who accompanied us.

For those who have more time, our team can organize tailor-made extensions: a few days of rest by the sea, the descent of a river in the West or another region of the island.

Route: approximately 170 km, 4 to 5 hours with stops.