Thylacine
- Sep 14, 2017
- 2 min read

The Rhythm of Travel

It is funny how every trip I do has its own rhythm. When I traveled in Asia last year, the pace was really relaxed. I would spend 12 hours on a bus to get from one town to another or weave my way slowly though deserted streets in the countryside on a motorbike. If I liked a town, I would stay an extra day. When I was hungry, I would wander the town on foot until I came across an intriguing eatery or coffee house where I would sit for an hour and read or watch the life of the town.

This trip has been a whirlwind. Good, but a whirlwind. A driver meets me at the airport and whisks me off to a hotel, but only to sleep, so that he can pick me up again in the morning for another flight. When I arrive at the next stop, a guide and driver meet me and we head straight to the Avenue of the Baobabs for sunset, but don’t dally I have to drop the bags at the hotel so I can meet the local guide for a night tour of the dry monsoon forests. Sure, I can have a late dinner and go to bed, but don’t sleep too long! I have to wake up for an early breakfast so I can be off to Kirindy National Park for a morning walk before lunch, after which I do an afternoon walk from which I need to be back in time for my evening walk. Yes, I can return to camp to eat and sleep, but don’t forget tomorrow I will repeat.

I express the pace in hyperbole because it feels like I barely have time to catch my breath before I’m on to the next thing (and I want to give you sense of my experiences), but don’t leave with the impression that I am anything less than gleeful at each new experience or anything less than grateful for each new encounter with the people and creatures of Madagascar. I hope when you look at the pictures you can imagine the smile on my face and in my heart each time I see another mouse lemur peeking out at me from a hollowed out tree or a big eyed gecko scurrying through the leaf litter of the forest floor.

My best to all of you!

Roy