SAN BLAS ISLANDS II

There's so much to love about the San Blas Islands.

The stunning clarity and colors of the water that laps soothingly over the white sand beaches, which Liz could never seem to get enough of. The ubiquitous bead anklets and bracelets the local Kuna women wear to signify whether they're married or not. The lady below, preparing fresh fish for our dinner is married, as noted by the wide wrap around each ankle. 

The quality of food and accommodation varies from island to island. Since only Kuna people can run businesses in the San Blas Islands (no foreign-owned companies allowed...meaning the Hard Rock San Blas will not be happening there anytime soon), the hotels and accompanying restaurants are run by the same one or two families who inhabit whichever island visitors end up staying on. 

While this often means sleeping arrangements are rustic and meals can be culinarily-challenged at times, the overall experience is one that's becoming more and more difficult to come by.

Above, Liz stands in the doorway of our hut. Amenities include one naked light bulb hanging from the palm roof, one thin mattress resting on cross-cut palm trunks, and a hammock for when the bed filled with sand. After lights out, the darkness is profound, as are the starry skies and the sounds from the waves nearby and the palms overhead. 

For families or groups, there are larger huts with multiple hammocks.

But the main attraction can only be the islands themselves. Picture perfect, whether from a distance...

Or frozen in yoga pose atop one...

Or closing business deals just next to one.

If you have time, the San Blas are so worth a visit (or two). While you're there, take some time to enjoy the scene, learn about the locals, and consider a volunteer activity such as  a beach cleanup.

And of course, don't forget to take dominion over your own palm-crowned private island. It's as unique a place as we've seen on the trip and will definitely be making our Top 10 list, if we ever get around to putting one together. 

STILL MORE BAOBABS IN MADAGASCAR

Baobab Avenue...it's almost as photogenic as the Pushkar Camel Fair. But when there's a grove of 1,000-yr-old trees around, the photos tend to look pretty good from no matter what angle you shoot. 

If Avenida de Baobab  was in the U.S.,  it would be one of the most popular, well-protected national parks on Earth.  Here in Madagascar, families live under the trees' shade and huge trucks drive within inches of their trunks. 

A half-moon shines through  a baobab's branches.

A family  leaving the Avenida de Baobabs.

BUSH TAXIS, BREAKDOWNS, AND BAOBABS

A boy holds his baby brother on the Avenida de Baobabs.

For those who may not be aware, Madagascar is a gigantic island. The fourth largest in the world, in fact, behind Greenland, New Guinea, and Borneo. And with so much to see (lemurs,  baobabs, islands, more baobabs, LEMURS!) we got started right away. We both remembered reading about the baobab trees in Saint Exupery’s famous story, The Little Prince, and on our map, the famous Avenida de Baobabs near Morondava looked like a manageable distance (just a couple inches!) for our first destination in-country after leaving the hilly capital city of Antananarivo.  

Soon enough, we learned that unless you can afford a car & driver or overpriced domestic flight, transportation in Madagascar is a long, hot, and exhausting process. As our city taxi from "Tana" neared the local taxi-brousse station (literally, "bush taxi"), people began running alongside our window shouting, tapping the windows, and grabbing the mirrors. The driver mistakenly slowed slightly, and one agile fellow opened the passenger door, jumping right inside. It would be this lucky athlete who would eventually sell us our bus tickets...for triple the going rate, of course. Lucky us.

Packed into the bush-taxi (a van made for 10 but usually seating 18 at a minimum) we flew down the road at breakneck speed, slamming on the brakes every few minutes to cram in additional passengers. Our three-hour journey only took us five and a half hours. Not bad, but we were still a good 14 hours from our destination, the Avenida de Baobabs. Since no bush taxis were leaving, we stopped for the night in the town of Antisrabe.

Thankfully, the amazing front desk staff at Hotel Hortensia told us of two guests with their own car who were heading to the same place. They spoke no English, and our French is limited to a few phrases Kip learned at Mardi Gras, and our Malagasy is non-existent. But, they agreed to take us. As we set off at 5 a.m. the next morning, we were overcome with joy at being in a real car and confusion of not knowing what to do with all the extra space in the back seats.

After 17 hrs in a bus/car, Kip had to climb it.

About four hours later, on a very deserted stretch of road, the radiator blew a hose. Fearing the worst, we began constructing a shelter of palms to stay the night.  Not really. We just listened to the radio while our incredibly competent driver smiled, grabbed some parts out of the back, and began the process of sawing apart the radiator hose…and then fixed it somehow. His fix worked for about five miles. Then we repeated the process.  We did this every few miles for the next seven hours. After stopping at a lake to refill the radiator one last time, we cruised the final few miles into Morondava, a town on the coast, and home to the Avenida de Baobabs.

We thanked our fearless driver/mechanics, and set off to see some trees. 

As Kip said, “We really traveled for 17 hours to see some trees?”  

We really did. And they were so worth it.

Baobabs at sunset.

On an island where more than 50 percent of all creatures are endemic, you see some interesting things, such as these unidentified insects.

Another photo of Baobab Avenue. Above, a pair of zebus (local cattle) pull a cart full of kids and vegetables headed to market in town. 

PHOTO FRIDAY: BAOBABS AT NIGHT IN MADAGASCAR

Lining a dirt road near the remote western coast of Madagascar, ancient baobab trees grow skyward as they have for centuries. After spending 20 hours in what the locals call "taxi brousses" (literally, "bush taxis") we finally made it to the famous "Avenue of the Baobabs," tired, thirsty, and not a little giddy from the scene before us. Surrounded by ancient giants, we watched day fade into night, as we fed mosquitoes and waited til just the right moment to snap the photo above. A Land Rover drove through the shot during the 30-second time delay, giving it a nice touch.