All language subtitles for A5321B03955DBDEE1A0711A8687DE51D_eng

60 million years ago,

on the shores of this tropical island,
an extraordinary story began.

The waves brought ashore
an odd band of survivors,

a few ancient creatures

that had been accidentally swept across
hundreds of miles of ocean

from a distant land.

They found themselves here,
in a place unlike any other.

Totally cut off
from the rest of the world,

these castaways
made this island their own,

gradually evolving
into a collection of wildlife

that's strange, rare,
and utterly unique.

So rare, that more than 80%

of the species are found
nowhere else on Earth.

The island was Madagascar.

This is the story of what happens
when a set of animals and plants

are cast away on an island
for millions of years.

This is how this curious wonderland
came into being.

It had all begun
millions of years earlier,

when a great slab of land broke apart

to form the continents
as we know them today.

Africa went one way,
and India went the other.

And an orphan chip of land
was cast adrift

and ended up hundreds of miles
from the nearest land.

Its unusual geological history,

its isolation,
and its resting place in the tropics

were to shape Madagascar's fortunes.

It's the world's oldest island.

And it's had time to develop
an astonishing range of landscapes.

It's split in two
by a spine of mountains

that runs its entire length
and each side has its own character.

On the western side, lie huge forests,
populated with strange, bulging trees.

Further south, an alien world,

a parched and sandy wilderness
with an immense lake of salt,

and gnarled and twisted spiny woodlands.

And on the eastern side,
lush jungle drenched in rain.

It's this combination of long isolation
and varied landscapes

that's created the eccentric
diversity of wildlife

which makes this island so special.

These rainforests are unlike
any other rainforest on Earth.

And they're home to Madagascar's
most successful inhabitants.

They're lemurs.

There are 80 different types,

from nocturnal, mouse-size creatures,

to this, the biggest,
the size of a child.

It's an indri.

They are direct descendants
of those first primitive mammals

that had washed in from Africa
by chance.

And now, they live nowhere else.

They have almost dog-like faces,
but they're primates, related to us.

And when you watch them, you can see it.

They're highly social.

At two years old,
this young male is an adolescent,

but he's still close to his mother.

H is little sister
is just six months old.

This family group will stay together
for several more years.

Lemurs also have the grasping hands
and feet of all primates.

It's fundamental
for a life in the trees,

as well as an effective way
to put a stranglehold

on an older brother.

For an indri, childhood is long.

It's nine years
before they're fully adult.

There's plenty of time for play

and perfecting
their impressive jumping skills.

And, perhaps, even a
spot of showing off.

Everywhere you look,
Madagascar has echoes of elsewhere.

At first glance,
similar but with different origins.

On the rainforest floor,

an animal emerges
that might be mistaken for a hedgehog.

But she's only
the most distant relation.

She's a tenrec,
another of Madagascar's own inventions.

And these are her youngsters.

Dozens of them.

Tenrecs have the distinction
of giving birth

to more babies
than any other mammal on Earth,

as many as 32.

Her babies are stripy,

the better to hide
in the shadows of the rainforest floor.

Their ancestor, too,
had washed in from Africa.

And, like the lemurs, they've
diversified into many different species.

As well as being
Madagascar's equivalent of hedgehogs,

tenrecs also take the place
that moles and shrews

would occupy anywhere else in the world.

Madagascar's rich forests

have been isolated
from outside influence for so long,

they have become
an evolutionary cauldron,

producing increasingly extreme
forms of life.

And none are stranger than this.

It's a giraffe-necked weevil.

And this is a male.

And this is the reason
for his extra long neck.

He uses it for fighting.

Meanwhile, a female weevil,
who's not quite as long-necked,

is beginning an ambitious
construction project.

She's snipping through the leaf's veins

and making little creases in it.

She also appears to referee the fight.

She finally mates with the winner.

Then, using her powerful legs,

the female starts to fold
the leaf in half.

She then curls up the end.

And inside the curl,
she lays a single egg.

All around the rainforest edge,

females are busy rolling
and curling their leaf nests.

Each seems to have her own design.

Only in these particular rainforests,

and only on this one
particular type of soft leaf,

are conditions right
for her to make her nest.

It's an astonishingly
specific behaviour.

The expectant fathers are apparently
just getting in the way.

But they may be guarding
against tiny insects

that would parasitise
the newly-laid egg.

The female has bitten tiny notches
along the leaf's ribs

to form a kind of Velcro strip,
to help it all stick together.

A few final folds
and the nest is complete.

When she finally
snips the leaf-roll off,

it falls to the forest floor to hatch.

All that effort, for just one egg.

Madagascar has had a turbulent past.

At its birth, it was ripped
from India and Africa,

and the geological upheavals
have continued since.

The north of the island is speckled
with slumbering volcanoes.

On the forested slopes,
lives another Madagascar speciality,

a chameleon.

Chameleons weren't
amongst those pioneering castaways.

Theirs is a different story.

It's thought that they evolved here,
in Madagascar itself.

They're wonderfully adapted
to a life in the trees.

Their toes are fused,
so their feet grip like tongs.

And the arrangement of their legs
is unusual for a reptile.

They're beneath their body.

This allows them to walk on branches
thinner than their body.

A male panther chameleon,
one of the biggest.

A second male is in his tree.

He won't like that.

If the intruder doesn't back down,
there will be trouble.

They're evenly matched,
it's neck-and-neck.

The territory holder wins,

and the loser
takes the quickest way out.

In these isolated forests,

chameleons have taken a variety of paths

and have diversified
to an astonishing degree.

Some are miniatures and have the rich
forest floors to themselves.

A pygmy chameleon,
the world's tiniest reptile,

tiptoes through the leaf litter
on the steep volcanic slopes.

She's so tiny,
she's scarcely bigger than an ant.

And over here,
in a forest of toadstools, a male.

He's looking for her.

He's even smaller than she is.

Finding a mate in a giant world
is challenging.

And it's somewhat hazardous,

when you could get run over
by a millipede!

It takes a while,
but when he finally reaches her,

he has a special tactic.

He's not going to let go.

They're not mating, simply riding around

until the time is right.

He barely touches her,
just an occasional gentle, little sway.

They can go round like this for days.

But at least they won't lose each other

in their big volcanic forest.

The heart of Madagascar still rumbles
with geological activity.

The centre of the island
is a wide plateau of uplifted rock.

Here, there are still thousands
of earthquakes every year.

Over eons of time,
millions of these tiny earthquakes

have torn a vast hole
right in these central uplands

forming this, Madagascar's biggest lake,

Lac Alaotra.

Around the edges of this
massive body of water,

there are reed beds.

But the vegetation is not fixed,

it floats in great mats
in water three metres deep.

It's tricky and inaccessible to most.

But one creature has adapted
to live here, and only here.

This is the Lac Alaotra reed lemur.

Not only is it small enough
to climb the thinnest reeds,

it can also survive
on a diet of tough grass.

Unusually for a primate,
it lives its whole life over water.

And it only lives on this one lake.

This family group
has a patch of reeds to themselves.

But they have a problem.

To find enough to eat, you have to move
from reed bed to reed bed.

And that takes skill and practice.

These lemurs can swim,
but they prefer not to.

So they have developed
a special technique

for crossing the reed beds
without ending up in the water below.

Their mother is an old hand.

Even with a baby on her back,
she's sure-footed.

And her older children
are getting the hang of it.

These lemurs are so specialised,

that they would struggle
to live anywhere else.

While Madagascar's centre
was shaped by volcanic fire,

the western side of the island
has an entirely different story.

For millions of years
this landscape was drowned,

and layers of limestone
formed underwater.

When the ocean finally retreated,
this is what was left.

It's a gigantic, ancient reef.

The seabed was pushed up,
creating a great block of limestone.

Over time, it's been carved by water
into forests of giant pinnacles.

This is the Tsingy,

one of Madagascar's
strangest landscapes.

Underneath, it's riddled with caves,
dissolved away by underground rivers.

In places, the limestone has collapsed,

creating deep canyons.

And in among them,
have grown little oases of forest,

filled with oddities.

The isolated forests
are rich sources of food,

but not easy for outsiders to reach.

The great walls of rock
make moving between them

across razor sharp blades of stone,
seem impossible.

Not so.
This, too, is the haunt of lemurs.

This most diverse group of primates

has adapted to thrive
all over the island, even here.

These are crowned lemurs.

They don't live up here,

but they must cross the peaks to find
fruiting trees in the forest pockets.

Exposed to the tropical sun,
it's devilishly hot.

The group seeks shelter
and a brief respite.

The lemurs are vulnerable here
and need to get a move on.

There's still a way to go
before they reach the forest.

They get to what looks like
the most daunting part of the journey,

a 30-metre drop,

where the limestone has fallen away
to create sheer cliffs.

But crowned lemurs
are as good at rock climbing

as they are at tree climbing.

Once down, they'll find shelter
from the heat

and plenty to eat.

But they must be on their guard.

There is one danger that every lemur
on the island fears,

a hunter that climbs
as well as they can,

the fossa.

No big African predators
made it to Madagascar.

There are no lions, no leopards,
no wild dogs.

Instead, the island's top predator
is a giant mongoose.

And it eats lemurs.

But it has more curious habits.

It's the mating season,

and this female has stationed herself
15 metres up a tree.

She's chosen a branch
that will just support her own weight,

plus that of a male.

A male approaches.

If she approves of him,
she'll allow him to mate,

if she doesn't, she'll back away
to a thinner branch

and he won't be able to get to her.

She's only fertile
for a few days a year,

so setting herself up in this tall tree

is a good way of advertising
her availability to suitors.

And it seems to work.

This the sixth male
she's entertained today.

The great diversity
of Madagascar's wildlife

is driven, not only
by the variation in landscape,

but also by the climate.

The spine of mountains
running the length of the island

blocks the rain
blowing in from the east.

While the east coast
is drenched year round,

the west lies in a rain shadow.

Plants that have evolved here
have had to adapt to an arid world.

Some places get less
than a tenth of the rain

that falls in the rainforests
of the east.

This is the land of the baobab.

These bizarrely-shaped trees evolved
to store water in their trunks.

They're tough,
and can live to a great age.

This baobab may be
over a thousand years old.

In these desiccated landscapes,

many plants have evolved
these bloated trunks

to store water for the driest times.

The west of the island is dotted
with these fat oddities.

Many survive by just clinging
with long roots to cracks on bare rock.

Like most plants here,
this Uncarina stores water in its stem.

And it's also economical
with its flowers,

putting out a few a day
over several months.

This gives maximum opportunity
for pollinators to visit.

But this is not what the Uncarina needs.

A sunbird has become a nectar thief.

Piercing the base of the flower,
it bypasses the pollen entirely.

But the sunbird is not alone.

Unfortunately for the shrub,
it's another flower bandit.

In a place as tough as this,
a flower is well worth the effort.

Madagascar is 1,000 miles
from end-to-end.

The variation from north to south
is extreme.

And the further south you go,
the dryer it gets.

Most of the time, the rivers here
are barely ankle deep.

But there's just enough
water and nutrients

for a fringe of forest to take hold.

And in Madagascar, where there's forest,
there are lemurs.

These are sifakas.

They're superb acrobats,
adapted to leaping from trunk to trunk.

But where the gap is too great
or in more open stretches of river bank,

they abandon the trees
and do something extraordinary.

Their hind legs are too long
to walk on all fours.

So they stay upright and gallop.

These river forests are an oasis
in this dry landscape.

That can lead to some spectacular
competition for territory.

A female paradise flycatcher
is busy building a nest.

Both male and female have red feathers.

But the males are particularly striking,

with long tail plumes
and bright blue rings round their eyes.

Curiously, although all males
start out with red feathers,

some males turn completely white.

No one knows why but it's something
that's exceedingly rare in birds,

another Madagascar oddity.

The red female and her white partner
construct the nest between them.

It's a delicate affair
built of leaves and grasses

woven together with cobwebs

and it takes days of careful work.

A red male watches nearby.

Breeding territory is particularly
jealously guarded.

The white male must see him off.

Danger averted,
the couple return to work.

But there's worse to come,

a drongo.

For some reason, it sets about
destroying the carefully-made nest.

There is nothing the flycatcher couple
can do about it.

The drongo isn't even stealing
the material,

just chasing the flycatchers
from their territory.

Competition for space is that fierce.

The female gives up and leaves.

Maybe she'll look
for a more assertive male.

Go far enough south
and the island changes once more

into a landscape of scrub and spines.

This place may go years without rain.

Strangely, there is water here.

This vast lake is 10 miles long
and just 2 metres deep.

But it's not what it seems.

Greater flamingos fly 2 50 miles
from Africa to breed here.

But they pretty much have it
to themselves,

because this is not fresh water.

It's a salt lake gradually evaporating
in the heat and draught,

and it's hostile to life.

This whole area has been getting dryer
for the last 40,000 years,

but the plants and animals here
are uniquely adapted to extreme aridity.

Mornings are surprisingly chilly.

A rare Verreaux's Coua found
only around this lake

puffs itself up
until it's almost spherical.

Ring-tailed lemurs sunbathe, too.

The most adaptable of all the lemurs,
they can cope with the dryness,

but they can't go
without water entirely.

A giant fig,
surprisingly and persistently green,

wafts its thirsty roots
across the ground.

There's water here somewhere,
but it's hidden.

It's part of a southern river system
that flows underground here,

carving holes into the limestone
like a Swiss cheese.

But it can only be reached
in a few places.

For the ring-tails, it's a lifeline.

And they visit every day.

In the water, too,
there are curiosities,

strange white fish found only
in these caverns.

They've been trapped in these
underground rivers for millennia,

and they, too, have gone their own way.

They've not only lost all their pigment,
they've lost their eyes, too.

They also swim upside down.

This may be to help them feed
on the surface.

But, in a dark world,
it barely matters which way is up.

Here in the far south of the island,

the extreme conditions make this
a land of rare specialists.

There is wildlife that's found
nowhere else in Madagascar.

A little nocturnal mammal,
whistling in the dark.

It's Grandidier's vontsira,
one of the world's rarest carnivores.

They survive on a diet
of almost nothing but insects.

As the climate here dried,

only the toughest and most adaptable
stayed on.

Grandidier's vontsira, able to survive
on such a diet, was able to hang on.

They're sociable and playful,

but their lives remain
largely a mystery.

The intense dryness
at this end of the island

has demanded some ingenious behaviour.

In this desert scrubland,

desiccation is just as problematic
for a spider as for a mammal.

An empty snail shell would make
a perfect refuge from the heat.

But it's not safe lying on the sand.

So this spider begins
an astonishing process.

It attaches silk to the shell
and starts to haul it into a bush.

This is the first time
this has been filmed.

And may be the first time
it's even been observed in the wild.

Each new strand is shorter
than the last,

so the shell gradually gets pulled up.

Technique is key.

It's important that the shell is secured

from several angles
for maximum stability.

This spider has got it wrong.

And when the wind springs up,
it totally loses control.

This one shows how it should be done.

This is the farthest
southerly point of Madagascar.

Beyond this is nothing
until you reach Antarctica.

This is the oldest, most arid,
and most remote landscape of all.

The spiny trees are dwarves
bent by the wind.

And, on these windswept cliffs,
there are radiated tortoises,

one of the world's
most beautiful species.

They're only found
in these southern scrublands.

A male sets off in pursuit of a female.

He'd be able to mate with her
if only he can get her to stand still.

He uses the front of his shell
to lift her back legs off the ground.

She seems less than willing.

It's a slow process,

but radiated tortoises don't do
anything very quickly.

They don't become parents
until the age of 20,

and they may live to be 130.

One legendary individual
was claimed to be 188,

which would make him
the longest living animal on Earth.

It's also one of the most endangered.

It's hunted and its unique
spiny habitat is being destroyed,

bit by bit, cut down for firewood.

It was once abundant on Madagascar.

Now, it could well be extinct
in the wild within the next 20 years.

On this same windswept beach,

lie thousands of fragments of eggshells.

These are the ancient nest sites
of an astonishing creature,

the biggest bird that ever lived.

The elephant bird stood
more than three metres tall.

And 1,000 years ago,

it would have roamed
these spiny scrublands.

In the warm sand, it laid its huge eggs,

bigger than dinosaur eggs.

This astonishing bird
only lived in Madagascar,

and it was extraordinarily successful.

But, then, it totally disappeared.

These egg fragments and bits of bone

are all that remains to show
it was here at all.

Two thousand years ago,
humans first came to Madagascar,

and it seems the elephant bird
started to vanish soon after.

It's a story that's continued.

Many of Madagascar's
wild landscapes and species

are under threat
of disappearing forever,

just as we're beginning
to discover and understand

the extraordinary diversity
of life here.

It's only during the last few decades

that we've really started
to appreciate this curious land.

Let's hope it's not too late.

Much of Madagascar's
wildlife is secretive

and a challenge to find, let alone film.

The team were keen
to tell the story of a little lemur

that only lives on this one remote lake.

There are very few of them left
because they've long been hunted,

and the reed beds where they live
are being cut down.

But in one village on Lac Alaotra,

the local people have made strenuous
efforts to save the reed lemurs,

and they knew where they might be found.

Field assistant Jonathan Fiely
and cameraman Gavin Thurston

set out with local fisherman
and wildlife guide

Andrianirina Rajohonson,

who's spent many months
following the lemurs.

The team wanted to film
its specialised way

of moving through
these floating beds of reeds.

Easy for the lemurs,
not so easy for a film crew.

In fact, in the tangled reed beds

it seemed almost impossible
even to see them at all.

They're so nimble, they simply
melt away into the reeds.

The team negotiated the channels
in an attempt to track them down.

The trouble was
there's no dry land here.

Gavin would have to try
and film them from a canoe.

Following a cyclone, the lake was deep,
and the water particularly choppy.

We're gonna need a bigger boat.

It's way to rocky and the boat's going
all over the shop.

Uh, we've got a few toys up our sleeve.

We've got a big stick
to help stabilise the canoe.

This must look like
sort of amateurville.

Um, and it is quite precarious.

You know, we've got some £40,000 worth
of camera balanced in a rocky canoe

which looks like we've just hired it
from the local boating lake.

But I'm feeling positive.

It was back to base for plan B.

Gavin and Andrianirina decided
to build a platform.

But it would have to be
very carefully designed.

It turned into quite
an undertaking.

We're trying to adapt this construction

so when we get out to the reeds
we don't need to use any nails at all.

I'm just worried
if they start banging the nails,

they'll drive these animals
even deeper into the reeds.

So we're making this precarious,
4-metre-high platform

above the water without any nails.

At dawn the next day,

the platforms were loaded up
to be taken out to the reed beds.

Getting the canoes through
the tangled vegetation was hard enough.

Moving through with the platforms
was a different matter.

And the whole operation had
to be completed as quietly as possible

for fear of scaring the lemurs.

One false move and the whole team
would end up in the water.

At last, a clear and stable view
through the reed bed.

Gavin got himself settled
and started filming.

But it wasn't easy.

The very thing he wanted to film,
the lemurs on the move,

was limited by the fact
that when they moved off,

Gavin could only wait
for them to return.

This is quite frustrating really,

'cause it doesn't matter
how much experience you've got,

with something like this,
filming from the boat was too wobbly

and working off a platform,
you're literally stuck in one place

in the hope that they'll come
within sight.

I think we'll get it.

Between that and this sort
of cyclonic weather. Ooh.

Just as they'd got
set up, a storm was rolling in.

The last place you want
to be is on a lake

in a canoe in a thunderstorm.

So they paddled back
as quickly as they could,

and then could only wait
for the storm to pass.

That took three days.

Finally, it dawned clear and calm.

Things were looking more promising.

Gavin's just inside
the reed bed right over there.

We set him up about 5:20 this morning.

The team were in luck.

The lemurs were feeding right next
to where Gavin was stationed.

With Andrianirina's careful guidance,

they were in the right place
at the right time.

It might look a bit Heath Robinson

but, at last, Gavin was getting shots
of one of the world's rarest lemurs

moving and feeding in the reeds.

And for the first time,
a mother and her baby.

But even after 10 days,
they were still unpredictable.

7:00 in the morning.

They've gone to sleep.

They're just tucked down in here asleep.

I've really quite grown
to like them.

It's just quite sad
that they are critically endangered.

They only live in the reeds
around this one lake.

And there's very few small areas
of reeds left.

And if those reeds do disappear,

then those lemurs are going
to disappear with them.

And I think it'd be really sad to lose

such a cute, cuddly little lemur
like that.

These little lemurs
have been pushed

to the brink of extinction by hunting

and the gradual destruction
of their reed beds.

But the quiet determination
of people like Andrianirina

mean that local attitudes
are beginning to change.

Madagascar is one
of the poorest countries in the world.

It's as much as most people can do
to earn a basic living from the land.

And it may be the passion
and the involvement of local people

that is key to preserving its unique
and increasingly fragile wild treasures.

In the next episode,

we travel into Madagascar's
most luxuriant landscape.

Between the wild peaks
of the eastern mountains

and the tropical shore,

lies a magical world of rainforest
where nature has run riot.

It's the jewel in Madagascar's crown.