Day 8: Summit of Pic Imarivolanitra

I woke up the sound of people shuffling around camp in addition to the strong gusts of wind that hadn’t relented all night. I sleepily made my way over to breakfast tent burried in several layers to protect against the cold wind. We quietly ate toast and clutched cups of tea before departing from camp and heading up to the summit. The initial route was gentle and flat, as we walked in the shadow of the mountains. The summit wouldn’t be revealed until much later into the morning, but I enjoyed the suspense. Philibert led the way, setting a slow but purposeful pace and Jenoux bounced between the group as Fabrice walked at the back, taking in every possible view with his camera. The sun had fully risen and cast a golden light onto the side of the mountains, illuminating every crack and fault within the tall granite walls.

After a gentle start the route began to sharply ascend a series of steps and it was clear that I’d overestimated my layers due to the warm morning sun coupled with the uphill exertion. I was secretly disappointed I wasn’t experiencing the sub-zero temperatures I had been promised and chuckled to myself at my over-preparedness as I frantically stuffed my excess layers in my pack and continued up in just a single layer. The route had a repetitive but satisfying nature – ascending a sharp set of steps, followed by a gentle flat section and then another set of steps. The steps were uneven and fun, occasionally being assisted by a handrail with ladder-like structures used to climb the steeper sections. Many mountains follow a predictable switch back style steady gradient, so I really enjoyed the variety on this mountain.

We route twisted around the side of the cliff face our camp was beneath, revealing another section of tall rock that was significantly higher. Philibert pointed to a high point in the distance, where we could just about see an outline of a pile of rocks marking the summit and it felt satisfying to see where we were heading. After a flat section, the steps commenced again but were steeper before and allowed us to make faster progress towards the summit. Although the air temperature was warm, the wind speed had increased at this height and provided a useful cooling effect, even prompting me to pull on my waterproof for a little wind protection. After further climbing I emerged onto a small patch of rock where the route ended and Philibert cheered, congratulating me and welcoming me to the summit. The summit revealed a panoramic view of the surrounding mountains and a light layer of cloud below us. As we waited for the others, I noticed how silent and peaceful it was, and we sat and admired the view before the others arrived. Philibert congratulated everyone who had made the summit and pulled out a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne from his pack, along with some plastic cups and a selection of Madagascan chocolates.

After 30 minutes or so basking in the sun on the summit we began the descent and I made quick progress back towards the camp, hopping down the steps and clambering over the large boulders. In no time we’d reached the stream near camp, where I rested my feet, removing my boots and paddling in the cool water while we waited for the others. We ate lunch at base camp before continuing for another 3 hours along a gentle grassy descent to our camp for the night. At camp everyone disappeared for naps in their tents before we were invited to the mess tent for celebratory rum punch (rum with a dash of orange juice) accompanied by dried plantains and peanuts. The porters performed local songs using handmade guitars and drums, they passed a large 2 litre bottle of local moonshine between each other, taking large swigs which increased the confidence and creativity in their performance. Before we knew it, we were locked into over an hour long set of Madagascan songs, which rapidly deteriorated into uncontrollable laughter as the moonshine made them lose the ability to both play their instruments or remember the lyrics. I had tears in my eyes crying in laughter at the performance as Fabrice and Jenoux danced around with me, finding it equally hilarious. We were a captive audience now on the third repeat of the top 10 rural Madagascan hits. After well over an hour, the moonshine had run dry and the porters stumbled around, giggling uncontrollably bashing into the sides of the tent as they left. It was a fantastic, albeit unique, celebration of achieving the summit and following dinner I was certainly ready for bed.