The mad Irishwoman rides again
Mervyn Brown
MUDDLING THROUGH IN MADAGASCAR by Deryla Murphy
John Murray, f10.95
Writers of travel adventures nowadays have to try harder to interest the reading public. In search of material for her books, Deryla Murphy has bicycled from Ireland to India and trekked through the Karakor- am and the Peruvian Andes with a pack animal and a small daughter. Her latest book recounts a journey through the remo- ter parts of Madagascar accompanied again by her remarkably tolerant daughter Rachel, by now aged 14.
Madagascar is a suitably exotic country for her purposes. A huge island bigger than France, it seems to have been completely uninhabited until colonised from Indonesia 2,000 years ago; and the present popula- tion, an intriguing mixture of African and Indonesian, still speaks a Malayo- Polynesian language. Its separation from Africa ensured the survival of a unique animal population, including the enchanting lemurs, pre-monkey primates who else- where in the world were wiped out by their evolutionary successors. Until late in the 19th century, Madagascar's position on the sea-route to India and the activities of missionaries and traders ensured the in- terest of the British Government but, after the cutting of the Suez Canal which led indirectly to the forcible French colonisa- tion in 1895, British interest waned and is now largely confined to a declining trade in butter beans and occasional forays of television teams in search of the lemurs. To the general British public the Great Island is terra incognita.
Miss Murphy interweaves her narrative with slabs of generally accurate potted history, drawn from well-chosen (though insufficiently acknowledged) secondary sources. Her travels cover most of the more interesting parts of the island. After a short stay in the incomparably beautiful capital city Antananarivo, full of reminders of British influence in the last century, she and Rachel set off on foot to Antsirabe through the central mountain chain, where puzzled villagers keep trying to direct them back to the main road. There follows a series of road journeys through `les grand Sud' in a variety of vehicles: by beer-truck to Fianarantsoa, by country bus to Tulear (with a diversion on foot into the fantastic
ruiniform Isalo massif), by cattle truck across the Mahafaly and Antandroy semi- desert with its bizarre spring forest vegeta- tion to Fort Dauphin; finally by mini-bus back to Ihosy and Fianarantsoa. All these conveyances are loaded to three or four times their normal capacity with humans, sacks of produce and livestock piled indis- criminately on top of each other: in the cattle truck the crush was so great that Miss Murphy cracked a rib. The incredible discomforts of these journeys over appal- ling or non-existent earth roads, the primi- tive overnight accommodation and the terrible food are described without any special appeal to our sympathies since Miss Murphy clearly enjoys this sort of life (her daughter less so). When the hair-raising Journey from Fort Dauphin, with two drunken drivers attacking all natural obsta- cles at maximum speed, comes to an inevitable end with a crash and the im- mobilisation of the mini-bus, Miss Murphy rejoices at her good fortune in being stranded in such a remote and primitive area. No wonder the French doctor in Antananarivo, treating her for gout brought on by drinking southern hooch made from the poisonous sap of what the Malagasy call 'the Man-Eating Tree', cal- led her 'a foolish Irishwoman' — probably he said 'folle Irlandaise' which would be better translated as 'mad Irishwoman'.
The final journey, partly by train and then on foot, takes them through the rain forest of the eastern escarpment to the port of Tamatave, where mother and daughter arrive prostrate with severe hepa- titis. Despite this, on finally leaving the island Miss Murphy takes with her a handful of Malagasy earth to ensure her return. For her the discomforts were out- weighed by memories of spectacular land- scapes in the central plateau and across the vast spiny plains of the south; and of marvellously beautiful sunsets and sun- rises. Above all, there was the charm, hospitality, tolerance and good manners of the Malagasy, 'the most lovable people I have ever travelled among'.
The book, incidentally, presents a rare glimpse of the Malagasy peasant life and the impact of the severe economic decline of the last decade. The most evident result of this decline has been the near collapse of the road network from lack of maintenance which isolates the peasant even more than in the past from any contact with modern civilisation. Miss Murphy would no doubt consider this an advantage, but it is worth recalling that the truly appalling travelling conditions which provided her with such excellent copy are the everyday reality for the Malagasy traveller. Fortunately, the government appears to have retreated somewhat from the rigid doctrines of 're- volutionary socialism' in favour of a more pragmatic 'Christian Marxism' and a major rehabilitation of the road network is under way.
The author also laments the threat to the environment and the unique animal life from the inexorable population growth and
practices such as bush fires to promote new growth: on a recent visit to Madagascar Prince Philip bluntly told the Malagasy they were committing suicide. With little sign of change, especially in the fondness for large families, prospective visitors to the Great Island are advised not to delay too long. They can be assured that it is possible to enjoy the many fascinations of the country without suffering more than a few of the discomforts experienced (and perhaps sought) by Dervla Murphy. But they might conceivably have less fun.
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