Mauritius 2012

We've been back a week and already I'm feeling nostalgic. We were all there except for Shaun who had started a new job that week. During the stay I wrote a daily blog, but was not able to load them up. So below is what I wrote. There's probably too much to read at once.

Day 1 Mauritius 2012-09-09

Well probably day two really. Yesterday was all about getting here. We caught a 9pm flight, delayed by an hour and arrived in Mauritius at 6pm last night. It was a long flight, stopping off in Dubai, but it seemed a whole lot longer because of arriving late the next day. Seasoned longhawl travellers will know that you don’t sleep well on these flights.

Still every went smoothly, and Dinesh was waiting as pre-arranged. We took the hour drive from Plaisance airport in Mahebourg to Flic en Flac. Edwidge had arranged for the keys to be picked up and the gate, and sure enough a set of keys was waiting with the security guard. Perfect. We off loaded the van with our luggage and dragged it up the stairs.

We’ve arrived.

‘How do these keys fit?’ someone asked. Pause.

‘These are the wrong keys’ I announced after a brief try.

Luckily Dinesh hadn’t left. The security guard was distinctly unhelpful as she shugged her shoulders. The day was saved by putting the right key in the right place.

Dinesh had also booked up a meal at the Sunrise restaurant. Exhausted as we were we had to go out on our first night. The restaurant was lovely, with tables under up-lit trees and a warm tropical breeze. It was a bit chilly actually, but we were on holiday and in my country, and in my town.

 

The sun sets at six pm in the tropics. Not a lot of people know that. So it was dark by the time we got to the apartment. We’d stopped off at a supermarket to collect milk and bread, and several other things when it came to it. All fine. We got a front row circular table in front of the stage with a live Mauritian band, playing wallpaper French tunes. How was Lucas? I hear you asking. Unsettled and over-tired. When you’re about to be one year old, you don’t want to be unsettled and tired. Emily didn’t get to eat much so she and Anne went home early.

 

They went home. In the dark. In a strange country. In a town they had never seen in the dark. They got lost. Of course.

Fortunately our mobile phones work over here. Dinesh came to rescue us, not for the first time, and all ended well. We slept well on day one. All except Lucas, who decided he wouldn’t yield to the antihistamine, and needed a spoonful of paracetamol to eventually settle his troubled soul. I wonder where he gets it from.

Day 2

I was up first, well third really after Emily and Lucas. Emily was pleased to see me and before I could wipe the toothpaste from my mouth I was off taking him for a walk.

 

Flic is about 200 yards down the road from the apartment. There’s a sizable Spar, with all you could need for a two week holiday. Yes, toilet paper and everything. I reminded myself of the road we only saw in the dark yesterday.

Flic en Flac is one of the main holiday resorts in Mauritius, but it is more for Mauritians. The Europeans and South Africans tend to go to the big five star hotels in the north or west. This is a small, spread out seaside town, the size of St Anne’s. There’s only one main street that runs alongside the beach. It is lined with bars and restaurants, closed at 9am. The Spar is however, already busy with Mauritians and a few Western holiday makers. They are buying their fresh bread for the day. I’ve come for milk, can’t resist the baguettes apricot jam and Palma ham.

Back to the apartment and still no-one up. Eventually we all come round and it’s off to explore the beach. This is Mauritius, not the five start hotel version. Anne’s mind is blown. Kids love it. Lucas is impressed briefly with the sand and the sea. Not far out is the reef. I explain to the others that below the sea is beautiful Coral Sea with tropical fish of all colours darting between the seaweed.

I’ve brought my snorkel, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to use it. No fits since the first one, but when will the next one be? I didn’t risk it today

Day 3

We now have an itinery. Today we’re going to Mahebourg to the market. This is a busy and genuine market with stalls selling all sorts of produce and products. Tomorrow we’re going to visit Rosemay in Beau Bassin, Wednesday is swimming with dolphins and beach bar B cue.

Last night we had dinner at the ‘Hippocamp’ restaurant. The owner is a delightful man who immediately understood the need to relieve Emily of Lucas so she could eat. He disappeared with Lucas for twenty minutes. When he found out I was a doctor, he was even more interested. He is married to an English woman and says he will help me to get Mauritian nationality. This is essential if I want to buy property here, and the idea is becoming increasingly appealing.

I checked my emails in the morning. Not too many, then Dinesh came to pick us up at ten. In Mahebourg the market was on. It was not as big or busy as I remembered but was still interesting and entertaining. Everyone bought something. Me, I bought a T shirt and another one for Lucas. We each had a dhal purri from a street vendor and Bryani for lunch. I tried to find Guydou’s pharmacy but could only guess.

The highlight of the day was stopping off at Blue Bay on the way back. A glass bottomed boat trip across coral and some beautiful fish. The boat took us out to almost the reef. The sea seemed much rougher that at Flic en Flac. It’s been a long day and on the way back the swimming with dolphins idea looses its appeal as we learn that it will cost about £50 each as well as the cost of the taxi. Never mind, there’s plenty to do instead.

 

Day 4

Have you noticed the number of dogs here/’ she asked rhetorically, ‘and yet you don’t see any dog shit’. We agreed uncertainly. Today we were going to go to Beau Bassin and visit the place I grew up in, and go to meet Rosemay who still lives there. Dinesh was coming to pick us up at 1pm.

In the morning we went to the beach. What a great beach. Probably the best beach in the world. I don’t know of a better beach. This morning it was particularly brilliant, literally brilliant. The sun was hot with a cool sea breeze. Two sun loungers and a parasol for 300 rupees, that’s £6. They would have been ours for the day if we were staying. The reef at Flic is much closer than Blue Bay and the sea today much calmer.

It was time to have a go at snorkelling. I warned everyone and tentatively swam out to the coral. My own biased view is that the coral and the fish are even better here than at Blue Bay. I first went out for a few minutes only, but then later for a bit longer. This is the achievement of the holiday for me. I never thought I’d do it again.

The trip to Beau Bassin goes through Bamboo, so we stopped at the Catholic Church where my grandparents got married. Mme Eklezio seems to still be in charge, or else the sign is still up from when I was last here listing who is responsible for the flower rota.

Dinesh drops us off at the big church in the town. Sacre Couer dominates the centre, overlooking La Route Royale on its way to Port Louis. I recognise our street, so we cross the road and head on down to where I think our house is. On the way we pass the derelict remains of auntie Denise’s house on the right. There at the bottom is our house. There has been an extension at the front. Last time there were several maingy dogs tied up at the front. We could see them this time but they barked away to let the owners know we were there. Alongside is a row of apartments so we looked down the side and peered over the wall. Not much to see but we got the idea. I’m trying to picture it in my minds eyes, but its only faint and I’m not sure what I imagine are what was really there.

After what we have called La Rue Telephone, ‘though it’s probably Napier street, we head off to find La Rue Mosque. One of the houses at the top was Marceline’s and another was the original Benett house and one where my father’s uncle lived – surname Donald.

Dad’s picture, although admittedly ‘not to scale’ showed La Rue Pere Laval fairly close. Actually it is about three quarters of a mile up hill. We had to ask several times and always it was ‘un haute, a droit’. ‘Why don’t you phone?’ I was asked. After the fifth ask, and after finding the road, then I phoned. Rosemay met us and in we went. Later Dinesh was to say ‘c’est bien zolie’ and indeed it is. A ‘typically colonial house’. I have described it before, but it is impressively all wooden. Outside are the two Lychee trees and a large Mango tree. These I do increasing remember. I thought the mango tree was in our house, but it is this one that I recall. We must have spent more time here than I thought.

Inside there is a classic posed picture of my great grandmother whose maiden name was Clarenc. Next to her is David Davis, my great great grandfather. Thus confirming that Hector Clarence was my great great great grandfather. He was a doctor to one of the sugar cane factories and presumably worked with slaves and indentured Indians. It was to his mistress that this particular family line belongs. He ‘looked after’ them well, although there is no trace of them until gentrified by the marriage of his illegitimate daughter to David Davis.

We are tired now, and so we head off back to Flic. Later we went for a meal on the seafront and on the way back in the dark I trod in soft gooey dog poo. So that’s where the dog is. I left my flip flops outside the apartment on the grass and washed my feet in the shower.

The next day I went to clean the black havaianas, only to find someone else had already cleaned them.

So that’s what happens to the dog poo.

Day 5

We spent on the beach. Flic en Flac beach rally is the best in the world. I made friends with the beach lounger attendant and gave him a bit extra. Well it does cost much and they keep an eye out for you.

Ambre Solair really does smell of holidays, they should market it.

Lunch was at the Ocean Bar a few yards from out towels. It started promisingly with swift attention and good beer. The food was slow in coming and cold and not very nice. The bill was wrong, but the waiter apologetic.

Later on the beach a couple of odd looking boys appeared and wanted a photo of Lucas. We said ‘no’. Immediately someone appeared from up the beach and told them to ‘allez’ and apologised for them bothering us. I was a bit spooky and rather put a dampener on an otherwise perfect day. Later the beach lounger attendant could be seen slapping one of them and eventually they left. So much for non-violence, we would all have killed them if they’d touched Lucas

Day 6

Another day on the beach. Oh well, nothing much to report except an absence of mental boys. Jon went on excursion on his own and ended up in Tamarin, famous for its salt farm and the hideaway ‘ pour les blanc Mauritian’

Lucas is standing on his own now, but not quite taking his first step unaided. He won’t be long now then mayhem will rule. More to report tomorrow.

Day 7

Now today is one of the most adventurous days. We got up as usual but with grey cloud cover we decided to go to Port Louis. By bus. The first challenge was to establish exactly how you do that. It seems to be easy enough. You stand by the side of the road and hail it down. It’s a bit uncertain whether they will actually stop in these circumstances so we decide to wait at a point marked by a bus stop. How exciting. Travelling through the sugar cane lined roads is just as you might imagine. Every now and then we pass through a village and street side vegetable stalls. The bus plays loud, not particularly ethnic music, from a radio station. As we approach the Capital the road gets busier, until it is positively third worldly and bustling, tooting and noisy.

Where to first? The bus stop is just opposite the waterfront and the temptation to have a drink is overwhelming. Then off to Barclays bank to pay for the apartment, then lunch.

Caudan is a new-ish shopping centre lining the harbour and built on the site of derelict port land. We settle for the sunshine restaurant just near where there seems to be a Sega contest between local schools. The Sega, as previously reported, is music and dance created to a distinctive rhythm by the sugar plantation slaves. Slave owners banned it at one point because it was said to be inspired by the devil. Actually the Creole words were not able to be understood by the owners and did send covert messages to the listening audience. It is also fun and a courtship dance. Some of the words are really quite saucy, I’m told.

The main reason for coming to Port Louis was to go to the market and it was no disappointment. There are several sections including a vegetable section, meat section, and gift section. The first two are full of fresh stuff and really don’t look like all being sold before the close. The last has got amazing locally created things like clothes, sheets, shoes, jewellery. I bought a game of solitaire with marbles made from highly polished volcanic stone. I also got a box for vanilla pods.

The bus journey back was more traumatic. The sun was out by now and hot. The locals had taken all the seats on the shaded side so we were left with the sunny side. The traffic was jammed and so for twenty or so minutes, while we tried to get out of the city we roasted. Once the bus got going, the breeze through the window cooled us down. We still had to squash up to fit all the people in. Eventually we got back. It took about an hour.

Tonight we’re going to La Domaine Anna for a Sega show and meal. I hope it’s as good as the school performances this afternoon.

Day 8

I can’t believe we’ve only been here a week, we seems to have done so much. Today we are going to the Seventh day Adventist church in Beau Bassin, and then to lunch with the Derblay and Gueho families.

In case you were wondering, there was no Sega at Domaine Anna last night. We got the wrong night. Domaine Anna is a huge restaurant, built from scratch in the middle of nowhere. It’s been going for a while and so must be making a profit. The grounds are expansive and there are water features, streams and waterfalls all over the place. It’s difficult to see it all in the dark, but everyone was very impressed. Dinesh had got us prime seats, in an alcove by the water.

The entertainment tonight was a crooner and his band, playing yesterdays tunes. At one point, though, there was a bit of excitement as the waitress who originally served us fainted and cracked her head on the tiles. The other waiters sat her up in a chair and she remained unconscious. Step up Doctor, so I did. I got them to lay her flat to start with and then carry her to a more private area. She came round naturally and was OK apart from the bump on her head. I sent her home and returned to the table a minor hero. Unfortunately the heroism was not rewarded by a reduced bill. Now I see why the place makes a profit, it’s not a cheap night out. Dinesh came at 10.30 and took us home. Everyone had had a good night, enjoyed the food, and confessed that they had never been to anywhere so grand before.

This was the day of the trip according to Jonny and Anne, without contradiction from the others. The start was a rather prolonged service at the Seventh Day Adventist church with an unnecessarily long sermon by the scouts on Danial and his faithfulness. It was hang on the tenuous analogy between his constant prayer and an iPad – instant personal advice device – the Bible. It wasn’t that bit that was so good, it was lunch at the Ghueo house. I have described their set up before, but to remind you, the original plot was bought by Mr Derbley, Oriel I think. Since then his son and daughter, Max and Alice have lived in the house. In the grounds they built another house for his other daughter Rosemay and Son-in-law Daniel Ghueo. Daniel was the minister at the Adventist church and ended up being the sort of superintendant for the Island. The next generation girls put on a great lunch for us, so Francoise and Martine, and also Danick’s wife Aureli. Michael Ghueo’s wife also provided food. I may have got the names slightly misspelt. The food was great of course, but even better was the warmth of the welcome and the conversation. I love them all. The children and Anne got so much out of it. They were mainly surprised that people seemed to be content with life. Struggling a little, but basically happy and getting on with life.

We went back for an afternoon nap and then in search of a Sega night. We were assured there would be one at a local hotel. We didn’t find it, but we did come across a hotel music night which had involved Sega and was playing YMCA with actions to an audience of almost exclusively Europeans.

It had been a very Christian day.

Day 9 – Beach day all day. Sunday is a day for the Mauritians to come to the seaside and Flic en Flac was full of picnicking families. Lucas made us laugh by going in the sea in a boat shaped ring.

In the evening we discovered the Restaurant Leslie. It was there just before the big new restaurant we’d been to twice already, on the main road out of Flic. It’s a small place run by a husband and wife, and untroubled by modern fashion in restaurant design. It is clean and inviting. At low season, now, no-one much is venturing beyond their all-inclusive five start hotels, so Leslie was empty and authentic. Just what we wanted. Lucas slept and we looked quietly through the menu. Quietly, except for the noise of heavy traffic which thankfully diminished in frequency as the night progressed. Despite the age of the building and proprietor the music was surprisingly modern and not Mauritian. He must have thought we’d prefer it that way. Personally I’d have preferred some Sega, but Lucas was asleep and so we left it as it was. Two bottles of white wine later and we’d exhausted the alcohol supply apart from a remaining bottle of Rose.

The food was great, mainly seafood done either creole style or curried. Mauritian curry seems to contain a lot of Tamarin which makes it quite distinctively tasting and brown. It’s also not very hot, although there is the option of adding ‘blow-your-head-off’ pimment to it. Jonny and Lizzie had beef.

The desert chef, I’m guessing his daughter, was off sick. To round off the meal he offered us some liquor he had prepared himself. He told us the ingredients, but I forgot. As we were so delighted with this liqueur Mauricien, he gave us the whole bottle.

We gave him a large tip and promised to revisit later in the week. I think the expression is ‘we all buzzed off the scene’.

Day 10

We’re going to Montaigne Longue today. It is a small village in the mountains where my father was born and grew up in his early years. My Grandfather got his first hospital job there. Last time we met one of dad’s childhood friends. I wonder if I’ll be able to find the various places he showed us.

We saw the hospital, well the up to date version. The original building seemed to be tiny and I guess was no more than a local clinic. Montaigne Longue itself is quite large for a village. We drove past at playtime and the playground was full. One of them could have been my father, I guess. Past Montaigne Longue is Creve Couer which lies at the base of Pieter Both and Dinesh dropped us off at the end of a track. For quite a long way up there are concrete steps which eventually turn into an earth path. Looking round there is a great view of Montagne Longue and the surrounding country side. On the sloping hillside people were still tending the land and growing crops. Presumably these vegetables are sold at market somewhere, and are their living. A few goats were penned up and I guess provide milk and food. The living seems hard and difficult to sustain. The lifestyle must be dying out. However, despite this, some of the houses were quite modern and must belong to people who commute to Port Louis. All the same it is strange to think of my father running around these parts eighty years ago.

Back in Flic en Flac the weather was so-so, but we went to the beach anyway. There seemed to be a beach party for teenagers with thumping music and the audience being lead to group dance to ‘Macarena’. How disappointing.

Day 11

September 18^th – Lucas’s birthday. His first birthday. He can stand on his own, but not yet make a step. He says car, dog, mum, and makes it very clear when he doesn’t want to do something.

We went to a country park/safari park called Casela which is about fifteen minutes from Datier where we’re staying. I wasn’t expecting such an amazing trip. I saw a white tiger, a black swan with red beak, and three albino lion cubs. We took a trip into the lion park. There are two males, Aaron and Reuben. Aaron used to be the dominant male but has recently lost out to the younger and stronger Reuben. Reuben’s mane is darker signifying his higher rank in the Pride. There are four female although only three on view. One is probably pregnant and is isolated in observation. One is lying peacefully next to Reuben, and the third is in a tree keeping away from flies. This third lioness apparently has a bad attitude and won’t even let Reuben near her. The lions get fed twice a week but do also hunt for small prey that stray into their compound. In another part of the park are Cheaters and Tigers. One of the Tiger is white instead of sandy coloured and a magnificent beast. Our guide tells us that although Lions will kill when hungry, Tigers kill for fun. Also they will attack from behind, which is why in India people go into the forest with masks attached to the back of their heads. Tigers are apparently much smarter and cunning than Lions. Our Lions looked pretty lazy, although Reuben did follow us with his eyes. There were lots of other animals, of course, but the big cats are the main attraction.

We had lunch on a hill in the park overlooking Tamarin and the tallest mountain in Mauritius. I had always thought it was Le Pouce, but it turns out that Le Pouce is only the third after this one and Pietre Both. The trouble is I can’t remember its name.

Then back to the beach before cake and a sing song.

 

Day 12 starting to think about going back, but not too much. It’s another day on the beach. We’re eating with Danick and Aureli tonight at Leslie’s restaurant. No rum this time as they are Seventh Day Adventists and don’t drink. After the meal we came back to our apartment where we were shown how to us the Ravan. This is the drum element of a typical Sega band. The other elements are the Maravan, Triangle and sometimes a Guitar. Aurelie has promised to get me a Ravan before we go home.

Day 13 – Ganesh Chaturthi– This was probably the most unexpected turn up of the holiday. Little did we know that the public holiday that is today, is in order to celebrate and prey to the Hindu god Ganesh. He’s the one with the Elephant face. We started off on the beach but the day got windier and colder so went back. In the afternoon we went to the Hindu Temple along the beach. There were several discrete groups of people doing their own chants around their own statue of the elephant-face god. Then at different times they went down to the sea and immersed the statue in the sea three times. No one was able to explain why this happened, even those that were worshipping. This finale was preceded by chanting and rhythmical drumming and dancing down the street carrying the god in the air. There was also plenty of food around. The worshipers didn’t seem to mind strangers looking on and taking photographs. They didn’t look as though they’d get offended either. Although the police were present there was no sign or sense of trouble. Everyone seemed very peaceful and were having fun. There is a stage on the beach as if for a concert later. We may go down.

We didn't go down but had a last meal in the Twins' Garden. The next day was packing up and heading our separate ways. It was a long trip home, and exhausting. This has been a wonderful holiday especially for bringing us all together. It was a holiday of a lifetime.