Amber National Park, Madagascar

Leaving the northeast coast behind and heading toward Amber Mountain National Park was anything but straightforward. The sheer remoteness of Masoala meant retracing my steps by boat across Antongil Bay, then making the long overland journey back to the capital. Madagascar may have 45 airports, a staggering amount for an island, but only 11 have scheduled flights, and from where I am, only the capital’s airport can get me to Antsiranana (aka Diego Suarez), the northernmost city in Madagascar. From Antsiranana, I had to get to Joffreville, the gateway to Amber Mountain. It was quite a bumpy 18mi (30km) drive up into the highlands, but thankfully, it only took an hour and was significantly less wearing than getting out of Masoala.

The contrast in climate was striking. After the humid tangle of Masoala’s coastal rainforest, the cool, misty air of Amber Mountain was a welcome change. The park is set on a volcanic massif and is often shrouded in clouds. The trees were covered in moss, and ferns lined the trails. Occasionally, I’d come across a cascade or waterfall, but when I reached the Sacred Waterfall, I stopped to take in the 262ft (80m) plunge from a cliff. Locals leave offerings at the waterfall, but I chose to take a dip and cool off in the pool, lushly surrounded by ferns. 

Soon, I had my first sighting of a Sanford’s brown lemur clambering through the canopy, its thick tail swishing behind it. Like the ring-tailed lemurs, this species is active day and night, unlike others that are either diurnal, such as the Indri, or nocturnal, like the mouse lemurs. Their habitat is concentrated at the northernmost tip of Madagascar, and interestingly, they don’t display female dominance like most other lemur species. A little further on, a pair of crowned lemurs sat grooming each other lazily on a branch, completely unfazed by my presence. Another local to the park is the Amber Mountain fork-marked lemur, named both for its home range and the dark stripe along its back that forks across the crown, running down like two lines toward the eyes. Being nocturnal, they are difficult to spot without a dedicated night hike.  

The park is also a haven for chameleons, such as the panther chameleon, whose electric colours seem a bit too vivid to be real, or as if someone had dipped it in a kaleidoscope of colour. On the other hand, the Amber Mountain chameleon is more muted with its green tones; as the name implies, it is endemic to the area. Then there’s the Mount d’Ambre leaf chameleon, so tiny it could fit comfortably on the tip of my finger. It only grows about one inch (3cm), and its leaf-like appearance makes it almost invisible among the litter on the forest floor. A unique feature is their independent eye movement, allowing them to focus on two targets simultaneously. 

To round up my experience in the park, I checked out the mossy trunks and spotted a leaf-tailed gecko blending perfectly into the bark. Their fringed skin flattens against the surface, breaking up their outline and providing them with perfect camouflage. In contrast, the vibrant red-striped green giant day gecko had no concern about being seen. It went about hunting for insects and licking nectar with its sticky tongue. Then, to my delight, as I turned a bend on the trail, I encountered a falanouc. This mongoose-like creature has a long snout, a low body and is plain brown. It’s a shy animal, and hence, it's rarely seen, making it a real highlight for me.