It was only part of a knee knuckle but even a small part of zebu knee knuckle has a large presence in a small bowl. The meat had obviously been stripped to garnish more expensive dishes but the gristle had been boiled for so long that it was eatable. Some varied vegetables and a brownish liquid made up the soup whose name I don’t remember – though I know it had one.

I was dining on the pavement of Antananarivo, the capital of Madagascar. The restaurant was the carcass of a one-time van without some of its wheels but with, up a step, five small tables. Its boot space was now the kitchen and where its motor had been, had been transformed into a glass case which showed some pre-cooked dishes and ceded a small corner to the man who took the money.

Still feeling hungry I had another soup which carried the title “Chinese Soup”. This was a noodle soup with a few hints of minced meat in it.

Diners were grouped so closely together in that small space, that I could easily have reached across with my spoon and sipped the soup that the lady across the small table was drinking/eating.

As it was the weekend they had commandeered part of the pavement. Pavements have been lost to pedestrians in many African cities including Antananarivo. Street vendors have squatted most pavements in busy areas of the city – all attempts to evict them have failed – and pavements which they think not busy enough have become parking spaces. This leaves pedestrians no option but to walk in the street – streets they share with belching, anarchically weaving cars, most of them vintage French models – 2CVs and R4Ls.

The bill for the two soups came to 40 cents: had I been really hungry I could have gone for the roast duck in curry sauce for all of 75 cents. I was thanked in halting French for my custom and I promised to come back another time.

Some weeks later I did. I found the spot easily enough, but the restaurant had gone. The van had disappeared, leaving no sign that it had ever been there. I searched parallel streets but no sign of it.

That is one of the reasons I like Madagascar: full of surprises, unpredictability, mysterious happenings.