A scientific expedition with a taste of vacation: The infernal hike – August 4

The idea for these posts was born shortly after I returned, and for most of them, I quickly assigned a name and had an idea of what I would write. Today, I share this post knowing that the forest was in flames... The title seems to fit perfectly with the moment the Park has been going through, but it was chosen because of what happened on that day, 4 August 2024. And not because of what happened in January 2025...

Hundreds of animals fled from the flames into a forest that shrinks with each passing year, and one day, they will have no forest left to escape to. The local populations are not exactly to blame; they are simply trying to gain more farmland to feed their families. This balance between natural areas and humanised landscapes is complicated to determine. In Portugal, we have practically lost our natural areas and are left with human-created patches (monocultures and agricultural land). Knowing that this green space could disappear makes me sad because if I ever return, I won’t find anything like what I saw on my first visit, which left such a lasting impression on me.

The first steps

The desire to enter the forest was immense! We had everything ready—backpacks packed, equipment sorted, cameras and lenses prepared. Before setting off, we had to separate everything into rice sacks, which would be carried by young people from the city of Ranomafana. These young men arrived at the ValBio centre at dawn, while we were still asleep, to be honest. Many of them were barefoot, wearing just a simple T-shirt and shorts. Mornings in Madagascar were cold, so I was wearing a jacket and trousers, along with sturdy hiking boots. The difference in clothing was striking, and it filled me with immense respect for them.

Their endurance is incredible, and the truth is, they were a huge help. Without them, we would never have been able to do what we did—we simply couldn’t have carried all our equipment, along with camping gear and clothing. Not to mention the photography equipment—I alone would have had to carry about 60 kilos on my back... I would have lasted an hour before needing an immediate rescue. As soon as we handed over the rice sacks, they quickly decided who would carry what and set off. We waited for our two guides, then followed their footsteps a few minutes later, beginning our race against time! We needed to arrive early enough to set up mist nets that night.

Bamboo lemurs

The park entrance was the same as on previous days, and after passing through the control gates, we arrived once again at the iconic yellow bridge, marking the transition from civilisation to the forest. It always reminds me of the entrance to Jurassic Park, and once again, the music played in my head.

This time, we had a clear mission: reach camp before nightfall! Of course, we asked our guides how long the trek would take, and they confidently replied, "Three hours." If only they knew…

Not long after entering the forest, we spotted the first lemurs. Naturally, I was completely prepared for trekking, with my camera securely packed in my backpack and my tripod tightly strapped on. So, when we reached the spot where the lemurs were seen, I had to go through the tedious process of taking off my backpack, grabbing my equipment, putting the backpack back on, and then searching for the best angle to photograph them.

They were completely relaxed, eating bamboo, moving gracefully among the branches to reach the tastiest parts. I spent a good ten minutes photographing them before being reminded that we had to keep moving!

Hiking and photography

Laziness started to creep in—I didn’t feel like taking off my backpack every time I saw something interesting just to get my camera. But I also couldn’t carry everything outside my bag. I had to choose: either I photographed birds and lemurs or I focused on insects and other invertebrates with my macro lens. In the end, I chose lemurs—for obvious reasons.

That meant I would keep my 200-600mm lens mounted on one camera (Sony A7 IV), while my Sony A7R IV was fitted with the macro lens to capture high-resolution shots of any invertebrates I encountered. I also kept my flash permanently attached to the camera—something that would later prove disastrous, but that’s a story for another day.

The hike was a constant series of climbs followed by steep descents. The Ranomafana region has several streams that carve through the landscape, creating valley after valley. To reach the first camp, we had to traverse multiple of these valleys, stopping every so often to rest—or seizing the opportunity when we found an animal, allowing me to snap a few shots.

Our guides were much faster than us. Whenever we caught up, they had clearly been waiting for over ten minutes. Birds were the most challenging to photograph, rarely offering clear shots. We were, after all, in a dense tropical forest, where sunlight barely reached the ground. Even using flash, the environment was so dark that the camera struggled to focus on my intended subject, often locking onto the brighter background instead and completely ignoring the bird perched in the shadows before me. But when I got it right, I managed to capture a few presentable shots.

A surprise around the corner

We had been walking for over four hours! By that point, I would say I was more dragging myself than walking.

Along the way, we encountered a family of brown lemurs leaping between the trees directly above us. They were tough to photograph since they wouldn’t stay still, and I barely had the strength to lift my camera with the 200-600mm lens. But with some effort, I managed to get a few shots.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team carried on, as we were close to the campsite. I had to quicken my pace to catch up, and when I did, there was a surprise waiting for me—a stunning golden bamboo lemur, half-asleep, gazing at us for ages. A rare opportunity that I seized with all my strength! I even set up my tripod and managed to film it.

Then things got complicated—our guides had already moved ahead, saying there were more animals up ahead. I found myself running through the forest, tripod in hand, trying to capture and film the next lemurs. Unfortunately, the next one was behind a tree, eating bamboo, making it hard to get good photos.

At last, we arrived at the campsite—alive, but still with work to do. We had to set up the tents and prepare for a night of bat-catching. One thing we learned from this adventure: time is relative. The guides said it would take three hours, but they forgot to mention that was "Malagasy time"—for them, going so slowly was a sacrifice.

Oh, and I almost forgot about the carriers—when we were only halfway, they were already passing us on their way back to Ranomafana! At that point, I thought we were close...

First night of captures

I had never been so relieved to reach camp and take my backpack off. We didn’t have much time to rest, as we needed to set up the tent, organize everything, locate the necessary equipment for setting up the mist nets, and get everything ready before dinner. But that short period around the tents was enough to regain some energy.

Fortunately, the tent was easy to set up, and we left the mattresses ready so that after the capture session, we wouldn’t have any extra work—we could just go straight to sleep. And honestly, at that moment, that was all I wanted to do. Physically, I was exhausted, but mentally, I was eager to capture bats and search for nocturnal animals in the forest! I was certain I’d find some cool creatures.

We set up the mist nets and waited for nightfall, which didn’t take long. Initially, we only caught birds, which was actually great because they were the only animals I was allowed to remove from the nets. Since the rabies vaccine was out of stock in Portugal, I hadn’t been able to get it in time. The kingfisher was spectacular, with that emerald-colored crest.

Meanwhile, I kept finding various invertebrates to photograph while waiting for dinner. At first, I considered leaving my camera near the capture area with the rest of the team, but then I remembered that sometimes animals show up looking for an easy meal. And damn, I was right! I was sitting down, peacefully eating, when all I had to do was turn on my flashlight—and right there in front of me! A Malagasy civet, scavenging for scraps, drawn by the smell of food. It wandered between the dining area and the various tents at the campsite, giving me the chance to take a few pictures before disappearing into the forest, only to reappear in a completely different spot.

Invertebrates and Amphibians in the Madagascan Night

The capture night didn’t go very well—we didn’t manage to catch a single bat. But in between waiting and checking the nets, I walked back and forth searching for animals to photograph. And the night did not disappoint. Among frogs, insects, and spiders, I managed to photograph a huge number of species. Most of them I haven’t even had time to identify yet or look for similar ones—that’s a job for the next few months.

In a stroke of luck, I found my first snake—though not at first glance. Talya suddenly said, “A snake!” But in reality, it was actually a stunning yellow flatworm, which she had mistaken for a snake. However, right next to it, there really was a snake! It was so cold that it was barely moving. I took a few record shots and let it continue on its way, searching for a warm refuge for the night.

And so this long day came to an end. Tomorrow, we had another day of adventures ahead—but also a bit of well-deserved rest. I absolutely loved this first day in the forest and was so excited for the next that I could barely sleep, eager to wake up and explore the forest in the free time we had.