Lemurs of the Lost World: Exploring the Forests and Crocodile Caves of Madagascar (Impact traveller's tales) [Paperback]

"the finest travel book thus far written about Madagascar" Dervla Murphy in Times Literary Supplement, London 8.3.1996

"excellent and exciting"

"describes the zoological wealth of the caves and forests of northern Madagascar."

Some more press reviews of the first edition follow...
"Wilson’s nicely written and highly entertaining account is full of lively and colourful anecdotes." New Scientist, London August 1990

"an absorbing account of a unique place." The Geographical Journal 157 (2) July 1991

"a delightful account of exploring the caves and wildlife of the amazing Ankarana limestone." Primate Eye 44 June 1991
"very readable book… clearly demonstrates that idealistic adventurers still exist." The Friend 4 January 1991

Rising 600ft from the dry savannahs of northern Madagascar, the Ankarana Massif hides its zoological riches behind a fortress of unclimable cliffs, vicious limestone pinnacles and ferocious thorny scrub. Entering the Lost World through 60 miles of caves and along deep forested gorges, Jane Wilson found not dinosaurs but other gentler ecological curiosities: a wealth of lemurs, strange endemic birds, chamaeleons, blind fish and much more. Ankarana has its guardians too, 20-foot long crocodiles live in the subterranean rivers and six-inch hairy spiders, lethal scorpions and huge venomous centipedes patrol the sunken forests.

Interspersed with descriptions of the entertaining lemurs come accounts of the hardships, disappointments, dangers and excitements of exploring the Crocodile Caves and the isolated forests, providing a glimpse of the realities of the ecological fieldwork, conservation dilemmas, the personalities of the team, the Antankarana locals and their strange rituals.

Jane Wilson - who also writes as Dr Jane Wilson-Howarth - trained first in zoology (BSc from Plymouth) and then medicine (BM Southampton) and through overseas work has maintained a strong interest in parasitology and vector ecology and control. Since qualifying as a physician, Dr Jane has trained in General Practice, Family Planning and Child Health (DFFP, DCH and DCCH). Her fascination in natural history led to her first expedition to the Himalayas, a six-month trip where she met her husband. This trip also provided her first intimate experience of histoplasmosis and intestinal worms, provoked a particular loathing of leeches, ticks and parasites and stimulated a desire to work towards their control. Research in Oxford (MSc parasitology) has given her a sound academic training but fieldwork abroad (including leading three expeditions) has also allowed her to develop practical approaches to research and other work in remote regions where proper resources are wanting. These days she works as a GP in England as well as writing for Wanderlust magazine and, on occasion, for the Independent.

Something disturbed the water deep inside the cave - it was the sort of noise a large animal would make sliding into a river. After so many days alone my mind ran riot. I tried to counter fear with logic. If there were crocodiles in my bathroom I would surely have encountered them by now, for I had swum the entire length of the little subterranean river several times. Perhaps it was mud sliding into the water. There had been only one splash and the ripples died away, as they always did. I strained to hear more but there was nothing in there. Still I could not convince myself that I was safe. My bath was hurried and I was soon out, dripping dry on a boulder, relaxed and enjoying the view out of the cave once again. Blue sky and fluffy clouds were framed by black limestone and green leaves of the trees outside.

As I stood up to leave I noticed a gentle grunting noise and, looking towards the entrance, saw the unmistakable silhouette of a Crowned Lemur. She paused, with her long tail held over her body like a furry question mark. She has spotted me. I stood motionless, hardly daring to breathe. If I frightened her away from her waterhole now, she might warn others not to return. Looking away, she grunted softly as if speaking to a friend outside. Then, reassured, the rest of her troop arrived, looked in my direction and, to my amazement, continued on their way down, descending the same familiar climb I had used... For generations, lemurs must have been coming here: tiny feet and hands had polished the rocks smooth down to the water.