Madagascar is a name that brings exotic thoughts to mind. Misty mountains. Impenetrable jungle. A remote island paradise where strange and wonderful creatures roam. A conspiracy of lemurs. Predatory fossas. Talking penguins?

Cue the DreamWorks movie franchise starring Chris Rock and Ben Stiller.

In reality, only a fourth of Madagascar can be classified as jungle, mostly concentrated in the eastern mountain range. This is where you’ll find the iconic lemurs, fossas, aye-ayes, and a wealth of other endemic species.

But you won’t find any penguins in the country, talking or otherwise. The climate is way too hot. Indeed, much of Madagascar is actually classified as arid, with lots of thorny bushes, dry grasses, and places that are legitimate deserts.

Yet, in a magical place like Madagascar, even those high, barren plateaus offer wonders to explore.

Behold, the Tsingy Rouge!

Located in the far north of the island nation, Tsingy Rouge is an alien landscape of delicate red formations unlike anything else in the world. While they resemble the formations of Madagascar’s UNESCO-inscribed Grand Tsingy with its razor-sharp limestone pinnacles, these fin-like spires are the product of a very different geologic process.

Although Tsingy Rouge’s features may look like simple clay, they are actually a combination of calcified mud and iron-rich red laterite, giving them their distinctive color and a consistency similar to concrete and making them resistant to the eroding forces of wind and rain. If the Grand Tsingy is a “tiger trap made up of massive limestone obelisks riddled with jagged spears”, the towers of the Tsingy Rouge are more like a collection of serrated steak knives. 

Having done a bit of research on the place before our arrival in Madagascar, the Tsingy Rouge was something that I had to see.

Ports in the north of the country aren’t big enough to accommodate cruise ships, so Angela and I tendered into the bustling city of Antsiranana, where the calls of fishmongers compete with the persistent buzz of tuk-tuks.

Madagascar has very limited tourist infrastructure outside the capital city and beyond the lemur-sighting eco tours, so the six-hour overland round trip to Tsingy Rouge was contracted to local 4×4 drivers, four guests per car. While a convoy-style trek can certainly facilitate new friendships with fellow cruise passengers, it can also mean that individual vehicles may not be subject to quality control.

And on this particular journey, I had the opportunity to both make a new friend AND jumpstart our designated 4×4 vehicle.

British, brilliant, and beautiful, Lenny Smith — aka @welcometolennysworld — was instantly conspicuous in the most wonderful way. While most of the tour group had dressed to protect themselves from the sun and scorching heat, Lenny had chosen a backless ball gown.

“It’s what I do,” Lenny explained when questioned. “I wear beautiful dresses in beautiful places.”

She shared a quick look through the photos on her phone and I understood. Lots of fantastic portraits of Lenny dressed like she was attending a Hollywood gala in the most unusually exotic locations. Cappadocia, Wales, Bangkok. I offered to stand in as her photographer while we visited the Tsingy, and she agreed.

A grueling three hours of dust-fueled, pothole-filled, air-conditioning-free driving found us, at last, at the Tsingy Rouge.

The landscape truly is something to behold. Almost Disney-like in its exaggerated formations, surely something this odd couldn’t be natural. Like an adolescent giant had built a labyrinth using overly-saturated sand, poured through a fist and solidifying as it fell. Mounding upon itself in weird heaps and fins. Delicate and yet solid. Frozen and yet melting imperceptibly.

And, while the macro view of the site was certainly impressive, I found myself looking at the microcosm. A tiny window eroded through an impossibly-thin formation. A near-perfect cube of stone perched on its adobe pedestal. A rivulet of iron particles stopped mid-flow like a tattoo on rock.

I stopped and stooped and wandered and, so enthralled, forgot that my forehead was burning in the sun. That my shirt was soaked through with sweat. That I had a 4×4 to catch back to civilization.

Lenny posed. I played photographer. And we all waited by the vehicles while several other guests were, in fact, physically carried up the seemingly endless stairs and out of the valley, having suffered from heat stroke — or very nearly.

The drive back was just as dusty and bumpy. But we were all listless from the temperature and the effort, and the return trip, as it always does, passed quickly. But not without incident.

With, quite literally, all of the other vehicles in the caravan well ahead of us and out of sight, one of our companions needed to make use of the natural facilities. Perhaps to conserve fuel, our driver decided to turn off the engine while we waited. Unfortunately, the Jeep refused to restart.

And we had a ship to catch that was notorious for leaving passengers stranded in Africa.

Thankfully, we were on flat ground when this minor calamity befell us. So, southern gentleman that I am, I hopped out of the Jeep and pushed until the driver was able to jumpstart it.

Crisis averted. Friendships formed. Ship boarded. Adventure experienced. And not a lemur in sight.

Worth it.