Original subtitles

This is a journey of botanical mystery...

colonialism...

runaway riches...

and an insatiable appetite for ice cream.

I'm retracing the legendary voyages of the Spice Trail,

on an exploration through the world's greatest spice kingdoms.

It's fantastic.

The Spice Trail is more than just a journey through the senses.

This is where I'm supposed to say, "Don't try this at home."

It is a story of exploration.

This is kind of Queen-of-Sheba travelling, really.

And of the human desire to connect.

THEY SING

MAN SHOUTS

I began in the Treasure Islands of Indonesia.

Once, one of the most powerful...

And rich...

'..places on Earth.'

Then, I followed the Aromatic Trail

across the breath-taking lands of southern India.

Phew.

I'll be trekking to the lost civilisations of Jordan...

Petra!

..via the fabled island of Zanzibar.

Look at this view!

And now I'm destined for the majestic landscapes...

Look at this countryside. It's ravishing.

..and exotic flavours of Madagascar.

Yes. Yes. Oh, parfait!

SHE LAUGHS Parfait!

So come with me as I follow a wondrous trail

that shaped our world.

Madagascar is the world's second-largest island country.

A place of stunning beaches,

arid landscapes and dense rainforests.

This mega-diverse hotspot is home to 30 million people

living alongside some of the most exotic plant

and animal life on the planet.

I'm on the trail of one of the most-expensive

and sought-after spices on earth.

If you've ever enjoyed ice cream, custard or a delicious sponge cake,

you'll have tasted Madagascan vanilla.

During the famous spice race,

ships bound for Europe would pass through Madagascar

with precious nutmeg, cloves, pepper and cardamom.

At the time, Madagascar was spice-poor

and had nothing worth stopping off for.

But that was all to change when a major botanical discovery

in the 1800s resulted in Madagascar taking the spice world by storm.

It's exciting. Vanilla!

I was once in a play called Vanilla directed by Harold Pinter.

AMERICAN ACCENT: That's another story, dear.

The French occupied Madagascar for over six decades until 1960.

They may be long gone,

but they've left a huge legacy and a love of sweet patisserie.

MUSIC: 'Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien' by Edith Piaf

Bonjour, Madame. Bonjour, Madame.

D'accord. Merci, ca.

Vanilla culinary uses go right, right, right back.

The Mayans and the Aztecs used to use vanilla

to flavour their chocolate drinks.

But the Europeans had a much sweeter tooth.

And they discovered that if you combined

the delicate flavour of vanilla with sugar and some fat,

you could create magic.

Merci.

I know it might look a bit piggy but, you know,

we don't often get lunch on this shoot.

Look, this table is absolutely perfect

for my retro PowerPoint description of Madagascar

and how it all started.

The very first traders who came here were from China and Arabia,

and they came just about here,

but the tribes just said, "Out!

"Go!" So they went.

The next people to come in, the Portuguese,

took an absolute pounding from the tribes and they disappeared.

Can you see what I'm doing here? This is a Portuguese tart.

Portugal vanquished.

In come the Dutch, conquerors of the whole of the east.

Where's my Dutch waffle? Here.

They came down here to a place called Saint Augustin.

It was so dreadful. It got nicknamed the Bay Of Hunger.

Dutch gone.

Guess what happened then? The English, Charles I,

sent 140 people out to guess where? The Bay Of Hunger.

This is a kind of Victoria sponge. Guess how many survived?

12.

The French, what have I got for that? I've got this.

They decided to start here on this island.

They attacked. They were repulsed. But then they came back.

In 1897, and by brute force, they took the entire island.

Gosh, you can taste the vanilla in this. And rum.

Products of Madagascar.

Anyway, they ruled Madagascar until 1960,

when the Madagascans declared independence,

so everybody gone.

Madagascar free. And thank goodness,

cos there are only so many cakes a woman can eat.

Delicious though they are.

But France's legacy doesn't end at confectionery.

Aha.

This is what I've come to see.

The Renault Quatrelle.

Assembled here until the 1980s, the Quatrelle,

or 4Ls, are loved by everyone. They're nippy, cheap to run,

and are the perfect renovation project for classic-car enthusiasts.

Monsieur Charlie. Bonjour, Madame.

Bonjour.

These little two-horsepower mini mice

just took over the whole island

because they're fabulous, little workhorses.

They can do everything. They're so light,

if it falls into a pothole, or goes off the side of the road,

you can just pick it up and put it back on the road again.

Oui. Oui.

You can do everything you can do in a 4x4.

Yes.

So they've got their engines and their gearboxes.

And you and your friends just can repair them completely.

OK, well, they might not look as dishy as a 4x4,

but with their front-wheel drive,

they're well built for what the terrain has in store.

And some locals have adapted them for a special purpose.

C'est pour...?

OK.

You bring it in the back. Je peux voir?

Oui, je vais dedans.

Like many people who live in Sambava,

Monsieur Charlie makes a living from vanilla.

Look, it's perfect. C'est parfait pour ca.

Je mis, je mis.

You can just pack all the vanilla in there.

Boxes in here, in it goes. Oui.

'It's the second-most-expensive spice in the world

'after saffron.

'Keeping it safe from greedy eyes goes with the territory.'

'Monsieur Charlie has important business in the market today,

'and I've agreed to be his lookout.'

Its name, Jaguar.

C'est Jaguar? What, this little car?

It's called Jaguar.

In the back streets of Sambava, something is astir.

These fast-moving hustlers are dealing some of

the country's half-a-billion-pounds- worth of vanilla

that goes on to be exported each year.

It has all the buzz of Wall Street.

And if any of you've ever played the stock market,

you'll know that getting a quick return on your money

is all down to luck and skill.

Madagascar's vanilla trade is no different.

It's slightly murky and complicated to make sense of it.

And so I've arranged to meet a vanilla hustler...

..who might help me to understand,

you know, a bit more about the trade from the street up.

Hello, Prisco.

Oui.

Je peux le sens? Can I smell it?

It doesn't smell like ice creams and cakes yet.

Only cured vanilla is traded here

and Prisco's will go through a lot of hands

before it ends up with an exporter.

Combien pour un kilo? How much for a kilo?

The equivalent of £36, which, in Madagascar, is a lot of money.

I think there's somebody we're going to meet just round here.

This is quite exciting. It's kind of street trading. I love it.

Got some good stuff.

Some of the pods can split during the curing process.

Perfect for making vanilla extracts,

but not the highest-grade vanilla on the market.

OK.

'On the other hand, black non-split pods,

'known also as black gourmet, are chef's quality.'

The best money can buy.

So we've got to find somebody who wants some split and some not split.

Erm... Non.

Un peu plus, let's go up a bit more.

Yeah? Good. Good. Bien. Bien.

He says OK. So, c'est bon. Excellent, voila.

So good. Tres bien.

Know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em.

And know when to walk away, know when to run.

Voila. Bon.

It's even more complicated than I thought,

because somebody like Prisco pays a certain price to the farmer.

He brings it down to the market

and he's got to pass it on to somebody else.

Then, these middlemen,

they've got to sell it on to the next people

and they'll have to hustle and get their money back.

And so each time it goes up,

it goes incrementally bigger, bigger, bigger, bigger.

But that's why, when you buy vanilla in England,

you might just buy a little glass tube

and in it might be two bits of vanilla.

Will you look at these loudspeakers?

Prisco.

Oui? Quoi?

It seems there's more to Prisco than the vanilla trading floor.

Oui. Oui?

I'll be there. Merci, au revoir. OK.

Prisco uses his dealing proceeds to invest in a music career.

HE SPEAKS OWN LANGUAGE

HE SINGS

THEY SING

THEY CONTINUE SINGING

I'm in with the in-crowd.

Driving in Madagascar is breathtakingly beautiful,

but it does come with its own set of challenges.

The country is very poorly served by roads.

A, they're very bad,

B, there are not terribly many of them.

And so to go from Sambava, south or west,

you have to go right up to the north

and hook round on the only road there is.

The journey from Sambava to Ankify is about 300 miles.

We start our bumpy transit along the east coast,

and these magnificent views are quite a welcome distraction.

But Madagascar's beauty has come at a cost.

Humanity's footprint has left its mark on this precious land,

and it's already lost around half of its natural areas to deforestation.

Fortunately, the mountainous forests of northern Madagascar

have stood the test of time and remained relatively unscathed.

As we pass through these vast hills...

Pothole? That's a small swimming pool.

Oh-hoo-hoo!

..and rugged terrain...

Oh, oh, oh.

..it appears we've been stopped in our tracks.

Our lovely cars have conked out.

Suddenly just gave up the ghost.

So Lili and Jimmy are working away at it...

..but it's always a bit, sort of, sobering when you've got quite

a long journey ahead of you.

Of course, if I was in a Renault Quatrelle...

..there'd be no problems.

And we want to get to our next destination

before the sun goes down. And it's now...

..two o'clock.

But no matter what obstacles life throws at you,

the crew never skip lunch.

Je prends un? Wow, it's hot.

Merci, bebe.

Hot, hot, hot. It's gorgeous, Jimmy.

Whatever it is, it is absolutely divine.

ENGINE CHUGS

ENGINE ENGAGES

Isn't that lovely? The sound of an engine running.

In Madagascar, they have a saying which is, "Mora mora,"

take it easy, don't flap.

So, here we are. We didn't flap, mora mora.

And now we're on our way. Thank you.

Back on the road,

our car malfunction has lost us valuable daylight hours.

So we're spending the night in the coastal city of Vohemar.

We were told it's not really safe to drive after dark

and add to that all the sort of potholes

and animals wandering, it becomes more and more hazardous.

Vohemar, here we come.

Daylight reveals the coastal community already hard at work.

Once a 13th-century Swahili trading port...

..today, the people of Vohemar earn a gentle living

through farming and fishing.

Before we hit the road,

there's just something I want to share with you.

I want to show you this.

Here is a list of the things that are fady, or taboo, to do here.

Now, fadys play a very important part

in local and community identity. And they change from town to town.

And if you break a fady,

you risk insulting the spiritual realm.

And that's the realm where the ancestors live.

So this fady notice says...

Jimmy's translated it very roughly for me.

It's fady here to have sex, fady to do poo-poo, pee-pee.

Or to throw away garbage. Fadys change all over the place.

And some of them are quite extraordinary.

It's fadyed, for instance, to pass an egg

from one person to another, like that. Just an egg. Fady.

And if you do come here,

look it up in your guidebooks and keep your ear to the ground.

Slightly rainy today and it's actually fady

for old presenters to stand out in the rain. Bye.

Voila, Jimmy.

The zebu have absolutely no road sense.

They just know that if they walk across the road,

no-one will hit them. They're different from other cattle

cos they have this gorgeous hump on their back.

They're so graceful, very beautiful, slim legs and lovely horns.

Placid disposition, it seems.

I mean, I'm saying this because I've never been gored by a zebu.

But, actually, what is divine now is that we're travelling along

into what looks like a gathering storm.

But we are suddenly on a road that is silky-smooth.

This road was built by the People's Republic of China

and it cost $157 million.

It was part of a Chinese-Malagasy agreement

to promote the New Silk Road,

a trade route which China are building from Asia

all the way to Africa and beyond.

It used to be called the Road To Hell,

because it was so full of potholes,

it was like driving over a dreadful riverbed.

And it would take you three days to do 162 kilometres.

Now it takes 2.5 hours.

And this is the Diana Region

and it's very rich in all kinds of materials.

But there's one particular mineral here that is very desirable.

In Malagasy, it's called volamena...

and we call it... gold.

Over 100 years ago,

the glitter of the country's gold reserves

attracted a stream of European prospectors

and refuelled French determination to colonise the island.

Jilo? He lives over there.

Oui? Tres bien.

I'm in Betsiaka,

one of the most-productive gold-mining towns in Madagascar.

Almost everyone living here is involved in the gold economy.

Mr Jilo is an actual gold digger, hoping to find his fortune.

According to Monsieur Jilo,

the best place to find gold is in the hills.

But it's taboo to work there on certain days of the week.

Not even the lure of golden nuggets will make them break fady.

If they do, it's said the gold will hide.

But that doesn't mean it's a day off.

Uh-huh. Oui.

Oui.

Uh-huh.

Oui, allons y.

I'll follow you. Je vous suivis.

Down here, the search for gold continues.

While men dig vertical tunnels to reach potential gold deposits,

others remove the soil.

Then, women sift and pan the sludge and stones for hours

to find any small particles.

Mm.

In the other times of the year, this is a paddy field,

it's covered with water, all this, paddy fields.

But just this time of year,

when it's dry and hot, digging for gold.

Madagascar is said to produce around $450 million of gold per year.

But these hardworking people don't even get a wage.

They live hand to mouth,

hoping to find any small flecks of gold

left in the unsifted mud piles at the end of the day.

Of course, all this goes to the man who owns the land.

That's the way of the world.

But you get your bits and you get enough to feed your family.

But the rich will always get the lion's share.

It's an odd rule of life, isn't it?

Jilo's wife, Lucy, is going to show me how she pans for gold.

So, washing the stones, you suddenly see a little tiny glint.

It might only be the tiny fleck of gold. Such skill.

Then, going through the smaller stones.

And, so, now, we've just got literally the silt.

Little bit of clearer water.

Can you see just at the very end, you can see a little pinch of gold.

Gosh, it's labour. Labour of love.

Five years ago, Monsieur Jilo and four of his friends hit the jackpot.

They found 50 grams of gold in the hills,

which they sold for the equivalent of £290.

With his share, Monsieur Jilo was able to build his house.

But they're very rarely so lucky.

Non. Non?

Thankfully, Lucy has found some today, however small.

Tres bien, maman. Oui.

Do you know? I've loved coming here today,

it's absolutely opened my eyes. I had no idea that panning for gold

was such a huge industry of an entire village.

Excavations all the way through, for tiny amounts of gold.

But these are the two things I come away with.

First, there's a huge spirit of comradeship and friendliness.

Talking, laughing, men at work, fit as lions. Kids are here.

You don't have to pay for childcare here.

SHE CHUCKLES

But the second thing is that every swish of the water,

every little, tiny glint, is hope for the future.

And they're poor. But in a funny way...

..they're rich.

Look at this countryside, it's ravishing.

These are the lush heartlands of Madagascar,

where the tropical climate is ideal for growing vanilla.

One of the main reasons the spice is so expensive

is because of the unique way it's grown.

This is a terribly intense time for vanilla farmers,

because all the work that they do now

determines the success of their crops.

This is something so intricate, brain surgeons will be envious.

I promise you.

Stay with me.

In a small plantation, vanilla farmer Yockno

is going to let me in on the secret.

Welcome to my vanilla plantation. Wow.

Vanilla orchids.

They climb on trees? Is that right? Yeah. Yeah.

This is coffee tree, huh?

Gosh, look at that. That's a beauty.

Central South America and the Caribbean

'are vanilla's natural homes. But, on Madagascar,'

the vanilla orchid has to be pollinated by hand,

because they don't have the right type of bee.

In one flower, there is a male and female.

So we have to push this.

And then now we can see the male is upper part here

and the female is lower than this little tongue,

but there is no connection.

Oh, my gosh. This is blocked.

Like a membrane. Yes.

Wow. So then, we have to push this up.

And then, now, press very slow.

Now, it's done.

Now, the male are connected by the female.

The pollinisation has to be a women's work. Yeah.

Because it has to be smooth, gentle. Good.

So one lady can pollinate about 800...

SHE GASPS ..or 1,000 flowers in one day.

In one day?!

Thanks to the floral experiments of a brilliant, enslaved boy,

Edmond Albius, in the 1800s,

this exquisite process has been used ever since.

Yockno, do you trust me with one flower? Yes.

OK. So... open this.

Open this. Yeah.

And hold it back. Yeah.

And then pull this back? Pull this down. Gently, yeah.

Oh, yes, I'm trying to... Gentle. Gentle.

And then behind the top of the flower. Yes.

Your... My finger.

Your finger. There.

There. And then you see the tongue.

Push it up.

That one? This one.

Push that one up? Yeah. Up.

And then where is your thumb? Here.

Yes. And try to press it to connect.

All right.

C'est bien? C'est bien.

Phew. You know it.

Oh, look. I'm... I'm... It loves me. It has embraced me.

Yes. Oh, is that OK?

Yes. You made it. Oh, I'm so thrilled.

Is that your first? That's my first ever.

Gosh, it's harder than putting on false eyelashes.

How long from flower to harvest?

If you pollinate flower now, you have to wait for nine month.

What?! And then harvest time.

It's like a baby.

Oh, my gosh. Yeah.

Although most people seem to be taking their goods into market,

what I love is that there are just one or two little stalls out here.

Jimmy, what are they selling here?

This is cashew nut. Cashew nuts.

Yeah. And are these cashew trees?

In your left side? Yes.

This is a cashew nut tree. Oh, is it?

Yeah.

Jimmy, may we stop and buy some? Of course.

Bonjour, je veux acheter des cashews. Oui?

Oh, look, they've all been packed in little tins.

The island exports 10,000 tons of these delicious nuts each year,

and they're a wonderful energy booster.

All these are for me.

Well, I might share them out later, but can you see that?

Isn't that gorgeous? En avant, Jimmy!

Au revoir!

This is Ambanja,

the agricultural powerhouse of Madagascar in the north west.

Here, its rich volcanic soil has the perfect growing conditions

for all sorts of delicious things like pepper,

cinnamon, coffee and our friend, vanilla, of course.

But the crop I'm here to find out about

is something which is found in one of

the most favourite foods in the world.

I'm following a chap called Chuy who manages a plantation

which makes the best chocolate Madagascar has to offer.

Although not usually recognised as a spice,

the cacao fruit was considered a heaven-sent spice aromatic

by the Mayans and the Aztecs.

Its botanical name - beautifully - means food of the gods.

Oh, look here. Now... Oh, now, my eye,

I can see this tree's completely dripping with them, look at that.

Chuy is an agricultural supply chain manager

for the American Fair Trade Company, Beyond Good,

making 2.5 million bars of chocolate a year.

Is this one ready?

No? No.

Erm, this one ready? No. SHE CHUCKLES

They all look utterly the same.

It's baffling, honestly.

The ripe pods are harvested throughout the day,

then, taken back to the farm for fermentation.

It's like a kind of child's drawing of a cart-load of good things,

all different colours, all slightly different sizes.

Cacao doesn't originate in Madagascar.

Like vanilla, it's from Central America.

But it was the French who introduced it to the island 200 years ago.

Watch out for your toes.

Prior to the fermentation, they'll split all the pods open,

toss them in these blue bins,

and those will eventually go into the fermentation boxes.

One end off, rip it open, just the sweet seed bit inside.

Yes. Seeds covered with the white flesh on the outside.

Would they let me taste one? Yeah, you're welcome to.

Now, look at that.

Honestly, it looks like something from the Alien.

Isn't that beautiful?

And it's quite soft and... Almost brain-like.

Quite, sort of, slimy.

That's so beautiful, so fresh.

This is not chocolatey at all, is it?

God, you could just sit and eat this, couldn't you, practically?

At home, if you could taste this, it's a little bit...

A little bit tangy. It's not quite like lychee.

I've noticed in this country, to begin with,

nothing tastes like anything it's going to be in the end,

you know, vanilla. Nothing. No.

It's what they call Baba here. Baba.

High in sugar, which makes it real tasty.

And also it kicks off the fermentation process.

So this is the fermentation centre. Oh, gosh.

So this is 831 kilos of wet cacao.

Nothing else is added.

It's just baba, beans and let it cook for six days.

And the smell already is... Quite strong, quite hot, as well.

SHE GASPS Look at those little babies.

They're hot and sticky.

At the core, it can get up to 48 degrees Celsius. Wow.

The smell... Intoxicating, isn't it? It really is.

Look, they're not putting it to bed properly.

Let's put this on over the top.

That's tucked it up in bed. Just one more day.

Once the beans are fermented,

'they look like a carpet of almonds drying in the sun.'

Is this how you sell it, in these sacks like this? Yes.

So where's the chocolate, inside? Yes.

Shall I bite? Yeah. You can crack it open.

Just looks like old bits of burnt cinder. But there we are.

That's a nib. This is it.

It's just you and the nib and me and chocolate.

This is it. I'm going to eat this for you at home.

Mm!

Divine! Well, actually, it's not,

but I thought I'd say that, cos in the future it will be divine.

This doesn't taste to me much of chocolate.

No. It will eventually become chocolate. Yeah.

Something like this. Oh, my God.

Is this your chocolate? Yes.

Oh, my lord.

This is incredible. And all made in country.

Little guys, I love you so. I love you.

I hope they're going to a good home.

These roads are truly bone-rattling,

but this is by far the worst stretch so far.

So, I'm going to pass on a couple of useful travel tips.

For a start, you don't drink from a great big water bottle like that,

cos it just goes straight over you.

Knocks your teeth in and goes all down your front.

The second thing you really shouldn't try to do

is touch up your make-up.

I've had some... several near disasters.

But you can imagine, you've got your lippy out like this

and it just goes zit, straight up and you've a scarlet nostril.

Terrible. Then, the crew might not even tell you.

Finally, our bumpy ride is over.

Here, we are. We've arrived. Port Ankify.

And, sadly, this is where I must say au revoir

to my knight of the road before we continue our Madagascan adventure.

Merci, merci, Jimmy. You're a wonderful pothole driver.

A la prochaine. A la prochaine.

Voila. Bye-bye.

Nosy Be, which means Big Island in Malagasy,

is five miles off the north-western shore of Madagascar.

And it's just a zippy 45-minute boat ride.

Once famous for sugar cane and rum,

Nosy Be's glorious beaches are now home to French and Italian tourists.

It's the weekend in the bustling town of Dzamandzar

where I'm meeting local guide Madi.

Here is the centre.

And all the people come to make a market around here. Yeah.

And they come here to buy something.

Shopping aside, the main reason people are here

is for Nosy Be's favourite pastime...

Morengy.

Can we go to it, Madi? Yeah, yeah.

I can't wait.

We're about to witness a Morengy tournament,

a bare-fisted and dangerous martial art known as Madagascan kickboxing.

Before a tournament,

contenders parade the streets to drum up support.

Ah, this big car coming now.

Scorpion and Black Cannon are past champions

and they've got a huge following.

Hello! Scorpion, Black Cannon! Are you fighting today?

He's OK for today, he's very good.

You've got confidence? They are very strong men now.

Very strong.

Can I come with you? Oui.

Vraiment, ici? Yeah.

HE SHOUTS

Me and Scorpion and Black Cannon, just hanging out.

Ca va, ca va, ca va, ca va.

I'm so, sort of, wired now. I'm absolutely there.

A ticket to marvel at Morengy

will set you back just over a British pound,

which wouldn't even get you one pod of vanilla back on British soil.

OK.

ANNOUNCEMENT CHATTERS

Madi, will you tell me the rules of this particular form of fighting?

When we fight, there's no rules. You can fight anywhere?

Yeah. You can fight anywhere. Yeah. And how long is each bout?

30 seconds. 30 seconds.

30 seconds. And the free... Free run.

Morengy dates as far back as the 15th century.

And techniques and fighting names are passed down through generations.

Like a game. Yeah, it's very dangerous.

This is Black Cannon coming now, he is like a machine.

Round one, fingers crossed for Black Cannon.

Really exciting, it's skilful. So fast.

And Black Cannon's fighting beautifully.

If he wins the tournament today,

he could go home with the equivalent of 300 British pounds,

that's half the average yearly wage in Madagascar.

Gris gris is a herbal tonic said to give extra power and strength.

Round two.

MAN SHOUTS

OK.

Round three, both fighters are exhausted,

but desperate for the prestige of winning

and the all-important prize money.

It was a close fight,

but unfortunately Black Cannon doesn't make it through

to the next heat.

Good fight. Really, really impressive.

It's so interesting.

Extreme brilliance in the martial arts,

whether it's regular boxing,

or this particular Madagascan fighting,

makes you confident and polite

and, in the ring, you can be like a lion,

but, outside, like a prince.

After all that lovely sound and fury,

I'm looking forward to some quiet female company.

Merci.

Maradoka is a small town south of the island

where I'm joining a group of women for lunch

who are taking on a very different fight on Nosy Be.

Excellent, voila.

Yeah.

Oui.

That's my job. OK.

Voila. Je vais....

Voila. Yes, yes. Oh, parfait.

Parfait.

Mariama is an activist for women's rights.

She founded the Ravinala Association 14 years ago to support

and empower local women.

Look at that.

OK.

Quite a low crouching down here in my special long gown.

Whoops. Attention. A la main.

To grate the coconut by hand.

This lovely little rough circle there.

JOANNA LAUGHS

I'm so bad at this. I'm so bad.

Attends. Comme ca.

SHE SPEAKS FRENCH

I think Mariama is just being polite.

All the women here get the opportunity to learn new skills

and preserve traditional crafts, customs and cuisine.

What gave you the idea to found this association?

Oui. Toujours.

Doucement, doucement.

Non.

No, de-deh. Je le fais.

I'm going to try to do it a bit better.

Mine looks sort of unspeakable.

I can't tell you what mine looks like.

Ca va. C'est bien?

It's a kind of banana leaf vegetarian sushi except grilled.

All the dishes on offer are influenced

by Madagascar's rich history and diversity,

with influences from Asia, Africa and Europe.

Comme ca, c'est bon.

It's delicious. It's slightly oniony.

Slightly squeaky and coconutty.

C'est delicieuse, delicieuse, mes amis. Superbe.

Bon appetit, tout le monde.

This is by far the best ladies-who-lunch experience.

Oui?

La dance? Oui.

Super.

THEY SING

Like the food, the dances are influenced

by the different cultures that settled here.

This is quite an extraordinary set-up

that Mariama has done here,

because, here in Madagascar, the tradition is

that women are left alone to bring up all their children

and they live terribly restricted, sort of, almost imprisoned lives.

So what Mariama has done is absolutely extraordinary

and she's hoping this idea of these associations

can spread throughout Madagascar.

But it means at last they have some friendship, some people to be with,

and they're dancing and they're so courteous and so welcoming.

It's the dichotomy about this country,

this sort of double-edged sword,

such beauty and such energy and resilience

and such poverty and such hardship. SINGING CONINUES

Can you hear they're partying on? SHE LAUGHS

This trip has had its rough edges, you know, with challenging,

potholed roads, the promise of gold and vanilla hustling.

From the lush forests of the east

and the arid wastelands of the west,

it's a country of contrast and I absolutely love it here.

And now I've got to leave it.

But I'm on way my over there,

1,000 miles to the fabled island of Zanzibar.

Next time, join me on this last leg of my Spice Trail Adventure.

Take it away, Captain.

We set sail for another jewel in the Indian Ocean, Zanzibar.

I love it.

We'll find out how its spice trade created a mix of cultures...

colours...

and tastes.

And reveal its challenging history.

This is where 50 slaves were kept before they were taken to market.

Before ending our journey in the mighty kingdom of Jordan.

Look at this.

Petra!

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