Saturday 15th April
Well, this is it: my last full day in Mauritius. Strangely, it feels as though I have always been here in some ways, and yet in other ways I have only just arrived. I suppose that when I eventually return home it will be as though I had never been away. But I hope I am wrong.
Anyway, because our flight is not due to leave until 10.30 this evening, there is still one more day to enjoy. We will be spending it with our new-found friends, Vimi, and her family: husband Avi, son Jasvin, and daughter Nivriti. They will be collecting us at the Spar complex in Flic en Flac. They live in Flacq, which is a region on the eastern side of the island and as such, an area we have not yet visited.
While we are waiting, and just for old-time’s sake, we snap some more familiar scenes:
The dhal puri kiosk, near the Spar complex
Looking towards the Spar from behind the kiosk
Pete & Mike making for the Spar
Shortly after 10.00 am Vimi and her family arrive. It is a bit of a squeeze as they have both children with them. I sit in the front to begin with, but later Pete doesn’t feel too good, so we transfer him to the front. They take us behind Port Louis, and up to the top of the plateau, close to a tiny village called Les Mariannes, where we stop to admire the view and take some more pics – among the pineapples:
View North. Coin de Mire is just visible on the horizon
Looking north, we can just about make out Coin de Mire, which I had seen previously on my visit to Cap Malheureuse. The sign over to the right reads: “Good bye”. How appropriate, as this is our last day in Mauritius.
We then head down the windy road past La Nicolière reservoir, and eventually to the beach at Bel Mare.
Vimi describes the sand here as white, soft, and as fine as semolina! It certainly is, and the sea is so blue. Even bluer than on the west coast; and with fewer rocks and stones, it is an ideal place for toddlers to splash around in safety.
Come on - get your feet wet, C!
Purchasing fresh pineapple and mango
Jasvin makes like a gecko!
Pete and Avi brave the ocean
Then Vimi and Avi produce a superb lunch from the car boot, including samosas, lots of other delicious snacks, and chicken biriyani. Yummy!
Afterwards, they take us to see their lovely home in Bel Air. They are about 500 metres from the sea, of which they get a brilliant view from their second floor balcony.
Just time for a drink and yet more snacks, and we have to make tracks back to Flic en Flac. We have arranged to meet Mr Ravin, the owner, in order to settle the bill for the bungalow.
Vimi and Avi are so kind, and we are sad to see them leave. But we will certainly meet them again, because they intend to come over to Manchester as soon as it can be organised.
Mr Ravin arrives and gives us some copies of his CD ROM, advertising the apartment, which we gladly agree to distribute when we return home. It has been perfect accommodation for our needs, and I can thoroughly recommend it to anyone. The bill settled, our driver for the airport arrives. It turns out to be Pravin, who had met me originally all those week ago, and who had accompanied me on several trips. We get to the airport all too soon, and say our goodbyes to Pravin. I believe both he and I were holding back a few tears. Sounds daft, perhaps, but everyone here has been so warm and friendly that it is hard to leave. Still, there is no choice, and we get checked in for the long flight back to Paris Charles de Gaulle, a long wait, and a short hop back to Manchester.
The flight left more or less on time (10.30pm), but took ages to reach cruising altitude. Before leaving, we were told that French Air Traffic regulations required the cabin be sprayed. So they went up and down with hand-held sprays which, I guess, contained anti-mosquito stuff.
There had been some problems on the tarmac – something to do with the cabin lights not going out properly. (It is an aviation regulation that cabin lights have to be dimmed for take-off.). That got sorted out, but as soon as we were underway the in-flight entertainment packed up. They were never able to fix it. Anyway, it being an overnight flight, an attempt at sleep seemed like a more useful activity. The meal was good, though. Typically Mauritian.
Sunday 16th April
Didn’t notice Sunday arrive. Not sure where we would have been. Possibly just over the east coast of Africa. Of course we were two hours ahead of Paris time, so watches would have to be put back. [Easter Sunday, too; and as I write this, that old feeling of time having been suspended returns. Surely Easter had to have been months ago? Christmas is not even a dim memory to me now.]
There was rather a lot of turbulence throughout the 12 hours, so by the end, Caroline was feeling distinctly woozy. To cap it all, even though this was a long-haul flight, we were deposited miles out from the terminal building and had to be bussed in. This took absolutely ages and ages. It was crowded with people, there was practically no air, and Caroline was feeling worse by the minute. I think she all but passed out at one stage. And of course there is no obvious means of communication with the driver, who is safely behind a bullet-proof glass screen; understandably, perhaps; but it really angers me, this sort of thing. You’d think it would be obvious to anyone that people having just walked off a 12-hour flight would be feeling pretty groggy. There were families with very small children – some still in nappies. But I guess that is what we have come to expect. Outside though it was cold, the sky was grey and it was raining in a very Mancunian way. Odd, because this was Paris.
The Manchester flight was, by comparison, much more comfortable, and bang on-time. Also, we walked straight into the terminal building – as one does at civilised airports.
All our bags arrived too! Then it was through the Green Channel (to match our three bottles of Green Island rum), out through the doors, into a taxi, and soon we were back at good old Ashworth Park. And, as a special favour, the sun was shining brightly by the time we got home. A little bit of Mauritius to make us feel welcome.
The place didn’t appear as strange as I had been anticipating. It normally does, even after a two-week holiday. And it was hard to grasp that just a few hours previously we had been playing on the beach at Bel Mare with Vimi’s family.
Now, as I write the final few sentences, it is even harder to think back to when I had first decided to start writing daily reports of my visit to Mauritius. There were certainly times when I felt like abandoning it – when I’d have much rather have been doing something else, such as soaking up the atmosphere on the beach. But I am pleased that I did persevere, because I feel privileged to have been able to experience Mauritius in all its glorious diversity. I hope I have managed to convey to you just a little of what it was like; and that one day you too will be able to savour its delights for yourselves.
And so au revoir et merci, Île Maurice. And thank you, everyone I met. Mauritius is a beautiful country, and you are beautiful people. I sincerely hope we meet again soon – even if it has to be in Manchester!
THE END – Thanks for sticking with it!
This is an older "album". The pieces date back to the late 1990s and early 2000s. The overall theme was vaguely inspired by trips I made during the 90's to Bulgaria, Greece, Turkey and Iran; and also by the NATO action against former Jugoslavia. For some reason I saw a parallel with the early crusades. Hence, you may detect a slight mediaeval character to some of the tracks.
