How Google Earth Sent Me Into the Wildest Nowhere Imaginable

In 2019, while procrastinating in the most productive way possible, by aimlessly scrolling around Google Earth, I stumbled upon something strange in the dead center of Madagascar. I zoomed in and found what looked like the cross-section of a giant brain. A maze of ridges and ravines twisted together like spaghetti thrown onto a topographic map. It was mesmerizing, and it went on for hundreds of kilometers.

There were no roads, no names, no villages, no signs of human life. Just this bizarre, intricate landscape that seemed to whisper: Come to me Nickolas. Empty your bank account and come to Madagascar…

Eventually, I managed to identify it as the Makay Massif. Unfortunately, there just wasn’t much information on visiting the Makay. A short French documentary, a couple of travel blog posts with little information, and that was it. The Makay was massive, remote, mysterious, and virtually untouched. Exactly the kind of place I like to photograph.

This was at the end of 2019, so when 2020 came around, I had to shelve the idea. In 2021 I bought plane tickets, but a couple months before traveling the airline canceled them. In 2022 the only time I had off was during Madagascar’s rainy season which I was told made travel here impossible. Finally, in 2023, I was able to take the time off and make the plans to visit Madagascar.

I emailed every single tour company that claimed they could take people into the Makay, but none replied. Well, one guy did, but he didn’t have any photos, spoke in vague riddles, and quoted me $6,500 USD. That was literally double my budget for six weeks in Madagascar, so I left his proposal on “read.”

Eventually, through a Madagascar travel group on Facebook, I met a Malagasy woman who also wanted to go to the Makay. Even better, she claimed to know a guy who had actually been there. His name? “The Sergeant.” Yes, like a character from a bad action movie. She agreed to come along, and we made plans to meet up in Antananarivo.

The Journey to Nowhere

Travel in Madagascar always takes longer than you think. Whatever estimated driving time Google Maps tells you, double it, then add a few extra hours on top of that. This isn’t an exaggeration. Malagasy roads are more pothole than pavement, and breakdowns are not an if but a when. Above is the route we took to enter the North Makay. (There are three regions, North, Central and South.)

From Antananarivo it is a full days drive to Antsirabe. Then another days drive to Miandrivazo. Then another several hour drive to Malaimbandy where we picked up supplies including a live chicken, a couple of porters and met with The Sergeant.

Plot twist: Despite his reputation, Sergeant had never actually been to this part of the Makay. He recruited a young local who had and dragged him along as our backup guide. This was going great.

Then came a suspension-shattering 4×4 slog through a landscape that seemed to do everything but travel in a straight line. After a grueling 5 hours of that, we FINALLY reached the banks of the Manampanda River and camped for the night—three full days of travel just to start our hike.

After a full day of hiking through a sandy river, completely exposed in the sun, the fabled mountains of Makay finally came into view. The sun was setting soon so we didn’t have time to explore, but it felt great to relax after so many days of travel.

To celebrate our arrival, our cook slaughtered Freddy the Chicken, whom we’d picked up back in Malaimbandy. I simply could not contain my excitement as we nibbled on Freddy and listened to lemurs jumping in the trees around us. Still, after all that hiking it was easy to fall asleep.

Canyons of The Makay

We began by exploring a wide canyon near our camp. It gradually narrowed until, suddenly, we were in a legit slot canyon. Not just a single slot though, a whole system. With every bend, a new side canyon branched off, each one forming its own twisting, winding labyrinth. This was exactly what I imagined when I saw this landscape on Google Earth two years prior.

You’d think the American Southwest is the slot canyon capital of the world, but that isn’t true. The real slot canyon capital of the world is here in Madagascar, and no one knows it.

Each section of the canyon system was wildly different. One moment, we were climbing through a shallow stream surrounded by mossy boulders and ferns covered walls. The next, we were in a towering golden cathedral glowing in the late afternoon light. Then, crawling on all fours through water in a pitch black cave section. Eventually, we hit the Malagasy version of the Zion Narrows, complete with vertical walls and echoing riverbeds.

The geology here was mind boggling, exhausting, and absolutely worth it.

Eyes in the Sky

As incredible as the canyons were, from above, the Makay was even more mesmerizing.

With just three drone batteries, I rationed my flights to only sunrises and sunsets. From the air, the canyons twisted and folded over each other. It looked like a fingerprint etched into the landscape, unique, endless, and impossible to comprehend from the ground.

Some of the images I captured there are still among my absolute favorites.

Final Thoughts

Visiting the Makay wasn’t a trip, it was an expedition. And it felt like one. Every hour of travel, every navigational mystery only added to the sense that we were truly somewhere unknown. This is my favorite type of photography, going somewhere you don’t know much about, and capturing truly one of a kind photographs.

If the Makay were easier to get to, it would be on every Madagascar itinerary. But it’s not. It’s an absolute pain in the ass to get to. It’s difficult to hike through. It’s a big time commitment, and that’s what makes it special.