Destination

The City of the Thousand sits on top of a ridge.

The site was called Analamanga, 'the blue forest', and around 1610 King Andrianjaka placed his capital there: on the summit of a long, narrow rocky ridge, at 1,280 metres. The present name means 'the city of the thousand', after the garrison soldiers. Everything the city is today is explained by that long, sloping shape.

· 9 min read
The city seen from height, spread over a succession of hills: the housing covers the slopes completely, with tall narrow two- and three-storey houses, whitewashed or exposed-brick façades and steeply pitched red-tiled roofs, packed against each other with hardly any open ground; among them rise a few taller modern blocks, scattered trees and two or three violet-flowering trees; at the back, more built-up hills fade into a bluish haze, and the sky is filled with a mass of flat-based white cumulus.
The city seen from height, spread over a succession of hills: the housing covers the slopes completely, with tall narrow two- and three-storey houses, whitewashed or exposed-brick façades and steeply pitched red-tiled roofs, packed against each other with hardly any open ground; among them rise a few taller modern blocks, scattered trees and two or three violet-flowering trees; at the back, more built-up hills fade into a bluish haze, and the sky is filled with a mass of flat-based white cumulus.Bluerose25·CC BY-SA 4.0

01 The blue forest

What matters about that choice is the word 'narrow'. This is not a round hill with a castle on top, but an elongated ridge. A defensive nucleus on a ridge can watch in every direction, but it cannot grow sideways: it can only stretch along the crest or spill down the slopes. That is exactly what the city did for four centuries.

The consequence is visible from any viewpoint. The housing is not organised in blocks on a flat plan but in bands following the contour lines, and streets turn into ramps or stairs the moment they cross the slope. In Antananarivo, going from one point to another is almost never a straight line.

A very wide panorama taken from the top of the palace hill: the city fills the frame completely, descending the slope in a continuous blanket of low and mid-rise buildings with pale and reddish roofs, packed tightly, reaching the valley floor and climbing again up the hills opposite; to the right opens an elongated sheet of water with a wooded islet at its centre, and beyond it bare hills of gentle profile; in the foreground on the right, a palm frond is silhouetted against the light; the sky pale blue with shreds of high cloud.
The city seen from the top of the palace hill. From here the elongated shape of the site reads at a glance.Cactus0625 / Wikimedia Commons / CC0  · CC0 1.0

02 Three stacked towns

The urban structure has long been described in three tiers, and it still works as a key to reading the place. At the top, the haute ville: the highest ground of the ridge, around the Rova enclosure, with the Manjakamiadana palace at the summit. In the middle, the ville moyenne, on the intermediate slopes. At the bottom, the ville basse, on the flood-prone plain.

The hierarchy is not a whim: it is topography turned into town planning. The plain below floods, so what was permanent and representative went on top and everything else filled the middle height. The palace, at the summit, is visible from practically any point in the city, and that total visibility works as a compass for anyone who does not know the place.

A view of an urban hillside late in the afternoon, the light low and golden from the right: across the lower third runs an avenue with cars parked at an angle, a metal bus shelter and a white obelisk on a planted median; from there the ground rises sharply and the slope appears covered with tightly packed three- and four-storey houses, with white, ochre and reddish façades, narrow balconies and steeply pitched tiled roofs, stepped one above another up to the crest line; pines and araucarias with dark crowns grow among them; the sky is clean and cloudless.
Houses stepped up the slope, with the avenue below. The drop between street and crest line is covered in very few metres of plan.Z thomas / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0  · CC BY-SA 4.0

The city had 1,274,225 inhabitants at the 2018 census, and the metropolitan area is around 2.3 million. Distributing that figure across a ridge and its slopes produces very high density and an unmistakable silhouette: narrow frontages, plenty of height and almost no open ground between them.

03 Brick, tile and slope

The house type that defines the city is recognisable at once: narrow plan, two or three storeys, walls of fired brick — whitewashed or exposed — a steeply pitched tiled gable roof and, often, a gallery or continuous balcony on the main front.

Each element answers something specific. The narrow plan, the fact that buildable ground on a slope is scarce and expensive to terrace. The steep roof, the fact that more than a thousand millimetres of rain fall here each year concentrated into four months. And the brick, the fact that the clay is right there on site, in the plain that rings the city.

A view of the lower town from a grassy open space: in the foreground, lawn with low young palms and shrubs; behind, a wide roadway crosses with several vans and cars parked and curved lamp standards painted orange; to the left runs a long row of two-storey buildings with arcaded ground floors and continuous balconies above, façades painted cream, red and ochre; at the back, the slope rises entirely covered with two- and three-storey houses under steeply pitched red-tiled roofs, packed up to the crest line; the sky blue with white cloud.
The lower town with its arcades and, behind, the slope covered with houses to the summit. All three tiers fit in one frame.Bernard Gagnon / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 3.0  · CC BY-SA 3.0

04 How it is covered

The useful way to cover Antananarivo is to go up and down, not end to end. The axis that really explains the city is the vertical one: you start at the bottom, in the arcaded lower town, and gain height by ramps and stairs to the ridge. In that short route you cross all three tiers and the whole logic falls into place.

It is worth going slowly and in shoes that grip. It is not a long route in distance, but it is in elevation, and many stretches are stone or concrete steps worn by use. The reward is that every few metres a different view opens over the valley.

And a matter of calendar, because here the year splits in two abruptly: between June and September, between 5 and 8 millimetres fall per month; in January, 312 fall. If you can choose, the dry season makes the stairs and the viewpoints far more enjoyable.

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Last updated · reviewed by the FlowTravel desk
MR

María Reyes

Destinations editor · Flowtravel

María looks for the reason a place ended up where it is.

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