Madagascar; I won't go back, but I am glad I went there

navontheroad — Mon, 11 Nov 2013 16:58:00 GMT

Antananarivo Airport, Antananarivo, Madagascar
2/07/2013

I am waiting to board my flight to Nairobi, which then connects to another flight to Bangkok, Thailand. I’ve lost my black pen (that’s why this journal entry is written with a red pen), and I almost missed my flight today.

I was having breakfast this morning at ‘ManLa Rouge’ hotel with ‘Vanilla Sam’ and ‘Soldier boy Ryan’ and Rachel and then I get up to go to the toilet and there I am, just getting all comfortable and relieving myself when I suddenly remember; ‘Holy shit, Are you sure your flight is at 4:50pm and not 12:00 man?’ And I freak out! I think fuck taking a dump. That can wait. I get up and run out of the toilet to Ryan who was using my iPhone at the time, and I’m like ‘dude can I just check something on my phone?’ and he goes ‘yeah sure man, you alright? You look a bit panicky!’ and I’m like ‘I gotta check my flight times man!’ to which he replies ‘Yeah? Fair reason to be all panicky then…’

So I check the flight times and sure enough, my flight was scheduled for 12:50 pm after all and so I ask them what time it is and its 11:10am and I have less than 2 hours to pack up, get to the airport and board my flight!

I run up to my room, I throw my shit in my rucksack, I think at twice the normal speed. My mind racing and adrenalin pumping and I’m all excited and scared and I’m almost giggling at the absurdity of the situation; and how messed up it would be to miss my big flight out of Africa! And all the while I’m trying to do ten tasks at once; I check my tickets to make sure I have them, exchange some money with Sam and look around to take a final mental picture of Africa outside an airport. And then I’m on the street looking for a taxi and my mates are there carrying my bags and I find one, I tell them I’m going to miss them and I know I will because once you spend 8 weeks with someone on an island you are going to miss them whether you want it or not. Then the taxi starts to pull away from them and it’s the beach farewell scene all over again with us all waving and I’m screaming ‘Thailandiiii’* and God knows I’ll probably never see any of them again and I know it and they know it too…

I’ll miss Madagascar. I’ll miss it because it was different and it filled me with mixed emotions and kept me off balance.
I’ll miss it because of its people and the people I met and befriended along the way. I’ll miss it and I’m not sure I could ever do it again. It was definitely time for me to move on. I needed a new world, a change of air and the land and the sea. I was getting tired of the same people day in-day out. And I guess that’s the beauty and complexity of travelling; one is always choosing between leaving and staying. And for an ordinary person, the fear of nostalgia and loneliness overpowers the need to just get the fuck away from everyone.

For me, however, it can be the opposite. Sometimes, I prefer to get away before it’s too late. I don’t want time and repetition to ruin what I and the people I care about have. I rather go, and miss them, than to stay and stop loving them…

And God knows I might be wrong…
Or I might be right…
But I’ve made my decision. And I’ll keep missing the camp people, because that’s what you do when you’ve spent 8 weeks with someone on an island…

Following a road, but creating your own path.

Madagascar; I won't go back, but I am glad I went there