Travel with Manfred

Travelogues from around the world

TERMS AND CONDITIONS FOR COPYING, DISTRIBUTION AND MODIFICATION

Everyone is permitted to copy and distribute verbatim copies of this document without a fee, provided that the person conspicuously and appropriately publishes on each copy the appropriate copyright notice and these terms and conditions for copying, distribution, and modifications. Changing this document or charging a fee for distribution or using this document for a financial profit is not allowed. Including this document in a publication that is for sale is not permitted.

This document solely expresses the author's current opinions. It in no way expresses the opinion of any other legal entity. This document does not claim to be correct, complete, or factual. Reading it is at your own risk.

Copyright © 1996 by Manfred P.. All rights reserved.

Nov 21 - 26, 1996

Mauritius

Living the Dolce Vita on Il Maurice

by

Manfred P.

Keywords: Mauritius, Il Maurice, Grande Baie, Port Louis, Pamplemousses Botanical Gardens, Triolet, Point-aux-Piments, coral, beaches, snorkeling, tourist, travel trip report, travel log, travelogue.

Arriving

Our expectations had us in high spirit and all I could think of was to count the hours to put on the shorts and the T shirt and to inhale the warm breeze. Our mood was so good it couldn't even be spoiled by the rudeness of the Air France staff. Yvonne had birthday, so I asked the flight attendants kindly if they could organize a baby bottle of champagne from the business class as a present for her. The two flight attendants had a good laugh and made fun of me, joking that they would rush off to the kitchen right away to even cook a birthday cake. They literally ridiculed me. Being ignored for the rest of the flight was a blessing in disguise. If Air France has ever found the key to customer satisfaction, they definitely have misplaced it temporarily.

Leaving Nairobi and Dar Es Salaam behind at 30000 feet we eventually touched down in Moroni on the Comoros. In my anticipation I already had switched to Hawaiian shorts and Indonesian T-shirt in the tight plane restroom on the way. When they opened the doors of the plane the hot humid air streamed in and it felt good on the skin. A deep breath and the warm air filled the lungs. The voice couldn't do anything but like in a reflex, utter "ahhh".

From the Comoros it was a small hop and the red line on the in-air projection system worked its way from Moroni passing Madagascar to the final destination Mauritius. The international airport is in the south of the island and it was another 90 minute ride to our hotel in the north where we all sank slightly worn out into rattan chairs to sip a sugar cane welcome drink. Finally we were here.

Walking into the hotel was an eye opener. A wide open space with the ocean as a backdrop. And what an ocean! Turquoise and never ending. The circular pool that seemed to melt with the ocean was an architectural theft from hotels from Bali to Hawaii. A good idea worth cloning, I guess. For a few long seconds I let my eyes graze on this scenery to pay my respect. Even from the hotel entrance door the high ceiling and the wide open back side let one drop European tunnel vision with the blink of an eye. The closer one stepped towards the back, i.e. the pool and ocean the better it got and the more free one felt. When I got close to the pool I was about to take off like a bird.

Check-in formalities and the credit card machine's rip-rap sound brought me back to reality again. When I emerged from the room after unpacking my luggage it was already dark. My feet led me straight to the beach. Slowly emerging into the shallow ocean finally lifted the tiredness from the rather long commute off me. Floating around the warm water in the darkness felt like being in outer space without gravity. I couldn't really see anything but I could tell it was shallow. There weren't any waves and I barely moved, just enough to keep from sinking. I can't remember the sky above me even though I am sure I looked at it. The moon was up and as it was nearly full; it was "overwhelmingly" strong. Strong enough to have the thatched roof umbrellas on the beach throw shadows. Along the beach walk were a few electric lights. Playing 'dead man' on my back I had my eyes closed to forget everything around me. With my eyes closed it went from dark to even darker. There was no need to open my eyes to figure out what happened. A smile formed on my lips. The first power outage. What a great place! Hopefully it would last long.

After I had enough of the sea, the pool became my next playground and I floated around there for a while. The whole surroundings were rather quiet, just one other person in the pool, no loud laughter in background, and no reggae music blasting from any speakers. I joined the quietness with a little nap to gather energy for a late night brief exploratory stroll. From swimming in the ocean I could already tell that there wasn't any light immediately north or south of the hotel. The stroll confirmed that we were at arm's length from anything, not to say in the middle of nowhere. There didn't seem to be a road going to the south. When driving to the hotel by bus we only saw sugar cane plantations surrounding it. One would have to walk around the plantations to get to the next village in the south. That would be at least 4 to 5 miles. While that isn't out of reach I didn't fancy such a long walk tonight. I walked north on the only paved road. Just about a mile later the village of Point-aux-Piments grew out of the darkness. Point-aux-Piments is a small village in the north west. It's so small that it is not even on most maps. Less than 1000 people seem to live here. It was half past eleven and I expected to find a couple of bars to be running some music and a few locals sipping a beer. But I found nothing. Literally, nothing. A few places were evidently stores and shops but all of them were closed. There was no bar, no music, no nothing. Not even people on the street. The only thing not inside the homes were a handful of small dogs that all barked like crazy. At the end of the village was another tourist hotel, but a really small one with just a couple of rooms. The guests, Germans as far as I could tell from the distance, finished off their dinner with a few drinks in the hotel restaurant. The thought that this was a step closer to the culture of the island than our hotel ran through my mind. The side alleys of the village were all dark. The only paved road ran between the beach and the village itself. On the beach side was a small group of palm trees and in the moonshine it looked like a spooky forest. After making sure there wasn't anything to see or miss in the village I strolled back to the hotel along the ocean. The sand is very coarse as it is freshly ground coral. Whole junks of coral are lying around making barefoot walking a thing to be done with care.

Back at the hotel, attracted by some soft music that turned out to come from a CD player, I swung by the empty dance floor and threw a glance at the bar where it looked like a group of my friends were the last guests. Figures. I was too tired to join them though and opted for the sack.

Day 1

For the average day such a breakfast might be the highlight of the day, here it is just the start. Next on my agenda was snorkeling. This should become a habit over the next days. Breakfast and snorkeling should fill the whole morning. One of the motorboats of the hotel took a small group of guests on a 10 minute ride south. The ocean was shallow and the first few hundred yards of the ocean floor were covered with coral. Because of that the waves broke 200 yards offshore. That meant that there were no waves at all on the beach, good for water skiing and beginners in wind surfing. Now, the boat raced along the coast in the shallow part. I sat down all the way in the front and stared into the ocean. The blue-tipped coral that is shaped like tree branches, in white color but with blue tips, is the most common one. It exists in masses. At high speed the blue-tipped coral flies by your fixated eyes like a movie. The speed as well as the uneven water surface, braking the light in different ways, makes it blurry as it whizzes by. It's fascinating, surreal creations in white framed by the turquoise water color. Add the perceived motion and you get dizzy. I couldn't get enough of it.

Our snorkeling destination was rumored to be a nature preserve of some sort. It was offshore another hotel, the first one south of ours. The visibility was poorer than expected. From the boat or from the beach the water looks so clear, you think you could see forever. That's not so. The ocean floor is covered by different types of coral. Some of them are perfectly round boulders of six feet height that nearly touch the water surface. Their color is usually light brown. Some coral formations look like elk antlers. The coral in these shallow waters are not as colorful as the coral sold by hawkers on the beach which range from orange to blue and supposedly come from deeper areas (or are maybe colored at home for all I know). There was enough here in this shallow under water world to make it interesting. Shapes, forms, and fish. In some cracks I found purple and red living things growing off the coral. Don't ask me what it is as I have no clue. Just about an inch long and tubular. The most common fish was a white-gray kind with black stripes, maybe four inches long. These fish are so gutsy, they come up to you and start to nibble on you. All others are a little bit shyer. I especially liked the school of small light green ones that come in numbers of hundreds. Then there were the tropical fish as I only knew them from the books: round in shape, bright yellow with shades of green and blue on the edges.

From one water sport I went on to the next. It was about time to go for another life's first: water skiing. All my friends including 'experts' like Anne assisted in teaching me the three essentials: butt forward, arms straight, knees bent. Weaponed with this wisdom I couldn't possibly fail. Half of the loop I got used to the feeling by using the fixed bar and the way back to the peer I did a water start and made sure I kept standing on the two skis. On the second run it was a water start and then I made small moves within the wake. Lucky as I am I didn't have a single wipeout, beginner's luck I guess.

Since I am not the kind of guy who can hang out idling in the sun too long, my restless nature brought me to the gym for a few easy exercises set to Bob Marley. The day moved on and I woke up from a quick nap in the room just in time for the aerobics class at the outdoor dance floor between the bar and the beach. Anne and Greg looked like professionals in their element. Another life's first for me and it was obvious. Even the aerobics instructor picked up on it. I kept turning in the wrong directions, not to mention of being out of sync with the rest of the class. So, when I did another faux pas, she asked me if this is my first class and I humbly said "yes". It even was strenuous, unlike the other activities this even made me sweat.

But as one can never do to much sports I joined a family of three playing beach volleyball. The little girl of maybe 7 was amazing, she played inspiringly well. I asked another woman, Alexia, walking by to join us and we played till sun-set. To wind the day down nothing could have been more appropriate than a night swim. Washing off the sand from the diving into the sand during beach ball was as pleasant as loosening the muscles with a little swim. It also feels great to hand oneself over to the sea and to turn into a leaf passively floating around. It's like having someone else take care of you.

Having met Alexia, it was great to have her as a breakfast and dinner companion. The hotel is filled with couples. She must have been one of a few exceptional singles. The good conversations made the dinner and breakfast experiences even better. During this specific dinner my friends were sitting just a couple of tables away and Beshar et al. were waving and signaling at me a couple of times. Later sitting in the bar they were teasing me, as buddies do. We were lazily sitting around in rattan chairs, listening to live music first. All hotel employees seem to be multifunctional. The water ski boat driver becomes a dancer. The aerobics instructor a band member. The wind surf instructor acts as boat house attendant, etc. Once the band got tired they switched to playing CDs from their stereo. While my legs were itching my friends were not to be moved from their drinks and chairs to the dance floor. As expected we were the last ones to leave the bar. It was actually funny. The hotel was full and there must have been hundreds of guests. But most people were nowhere to see. Which is very positive of course. During daytime nothing is crowded and now at night seats in the bar were vacant by 10 p.m.

Day 2

The evening turned into the common ritual as well. Dinner with Alexia and some more chatting with my other friends in the dining area before we moved to the bar. The hotel band played a medley of everything: from island songs to Ray Charles' "What a wonderful world". We celebrated Nane's birthday today. As a gift from Mark and Bill they fetched their guitar and as the band stopped playing we asked them to turn off their sound system. Mark and Bill took over. Oldies from Neil Young and other songs from the hippie generation were the theme for the evening. Good live entertainment. We are all just waiting to see Mark become a rock star. He'd make a lot of people happy.

Day 3

Yoga was another first for me. Well, maybe not. It turned out to be more or less identical to the breathing and stretching exercises we did in Karate class back at the university. While wind surfing I proved to myself that I am as bad at it as I thought I was. The wind drifted me off and I had a hard time (an understatement) getting back to where I left. Not to worry, the tow boat was on its way soon to rescue me.

After dinner it was off to the bar again. Tonight we all danced, crowding the dance floor. Greg showed off some of his stylish moves. And like millions of people around the world we did the Macarena dance made famous by Los Del Rios. Later it was back to the drinks, water that is for me. Beshar started the tradition of smoking cigars. Like the rich and famous we were sitting around the table puffing thick smoke clouds while talking about the everything and nothing. In between we strolled to the casino behind the bar, primarily to watch Annie, our master gambler, win and lose. It was nice to have these social rounds and our group was just the right size to keep it personal and interesting enough. Talking about personal. Annie, Simon, and Nane also gave me personal advice. Hey, I am always glad to listen and learn. Some of the thoughts were also quite amusing. Again, we chatted until we were the last in the bar and the waiters started carrying away chairs and tables.

Day 4

The bus brought us to Grande Baie next. Grande Baie is a town well known for tourism. The suburbs look like any other village. Shacks, huts, small simple houses with religious shrines on the front lawn, shops with hand made signs up front and dirt roads. The main road, paved but with many potholes, and the buses were just slightly better than their counterparts in India. The closer we got to the town center the more upscale Grande Baie turned. It started with shops with manufactured signs and neon lights and ended with glitzy looking fashion shops. The lunch in a bar across the beach was nothing to write home about, but at least it was a good resting opportunity in the shade. From here we caught the express bus to Pamplemousses Botanical Gardens.

The Pamplemousses Botanical Gardens are one of the top 10 attractions on Mauritius. A rich person named Pierre Poivre, an industrialist I assume, arranged this naturalist paradise 200 years ago. It is famous for its giant water lilies with leaves large enough to hold toddlers. What I didn't know is that these leaves have sharp spikes on their underside. I wouldn't call it the jewel of the crown as some guide books call it. Nonetheless, it is a nice place to have a picnic or snooze away an afternoon in the shade of a palm tree. It's a peaceful place where you can spend hours away from the beach surrounded by greenery.

With no bus showing up we took a cab back to the hotel. It was good to get a peek at the real world. Annie called the hotel so appropriately a golden bird cage. I couldn't find a better word. Today was a brief excursion to get a feeling for what is outside the cage. Back at the hotel I desperately needed a swim in the ocean to freshen up. More than usually it was revitalizing, putting energy back into me.

The sun was setting when I emerged from the water. Time to plan for the last evening on the island. Mark had taken care of that duty. He arranged a dinner at one of the best Indian restaurants on the island. The upscale restaurant had live musicians, waiters dressed like maharajahs, and only foreigners as guests. It would be too expensive for the locals. It was also the first restaurant I have been to where they had two menus. One for women and one for men. The difference you ask? The one for men has the prices listed, the one for women doesn't. The food was delicious, well cooked but rather mild. It was a great dinner, nearly all of us sitting around the same table, sharing and enjoying fancy food and good conversation.

Departure Day

A quick shower and good bye to Alexia and I was ready for departure. We all gathered in the foyer and posed for a farewell group picture. Cheese! A good bye glance at the hotel and we were sitting on the bus heading for the international airport in the south. Next to the freeway are rock pyramids, some of rough shape, some like perfect Egyptian step pyramids. Pretty puzzling. The driver explained that the island still has volcanic activity and that rocks are pushed upwards. Every few years the farmers have to collect these newly appearing rocks and they pile them up into pyramids. Occasionally they have too much time and for sake of aesthetic reasons they create pyramids. What a hobby.

General

The living standards are rather low. Somewhere between India and Mexico. Most people are poor and live in simple houses. Pollution from traffic is high like in most underdeveloped countries. The public bus system is excellent and seems to get you anywhere.

The biggest export and money maker is sugar cane. Most of the island's cultivated area is sugar cane plantations. Sadly though, the run-off of the sugar cane fields supposedly kills the coral. On the plane during landing they had an announcement regarding customs where they mentioned that it is illegal to bring any parts of sugar plants onto the island. Hilarious. We were teasing each other in front of the customs officer that instead of cannabis we had sugar cane leaves taped to our bodies and hidden in our bags. They don't take drugs lightly here either. The signs in the airport warned about capital punishment for drug related crime.

Il Maurice had more industry than I had expected. Car part manufacturing for the Japanese, etc. Banking laws providing anonymity make it a little known tax haven. The GSM mobile phones from Europe work here as well which is kind of scary. It gets harder and harder to get away from technology. Tourism clearly is important and, if I remember it correctly from the travel books, ranks second behind sugar cane. The tourist industry, however, is tailored exclusively to upper class tourists. There are no or just few provisions for low-budget travelers.

Three religions live next to each other: Moslems, Christians and Hindus. The French which were colonial rulers of Il Maurice contributed the Christians. The Moslems and Hindus came from India and Mozambique and Madagascar. The cuisine is famous for the Creole touch, spicy and hot.

The island is young and of volcanic nature. One doesn't need to read a book to know. Any look around from anywhere on the island spells it out clearly. The hills and mountains are incredibly steep and of strange formations. They add excitement to the scenery. My expectations included to find a lush tropical island. This expectation was simply wrong. I haven't seen anything lush, not to mention a rain forest. There are heavy rain falls and hurricanes in spring, but now the island was so dry that they had sprinkler systems in operation on their sugar cane plantations. The soil was mostly red and dry. The town name of Terra Rouge was a hint. The nature is without doubt the biggest attraction of Mauritius. Beyond nature there are only few sights or attractions. I wouldn't know where the nicest spot on the island is. But even average places are charming. Everyone of the few beaches I have seen was great.

Final Note