20 October 2010
We hired a car for three days with John and Jenny and drove out and away from the hustle and bustle of Port Louis to the south west and saw a different side to the island, a softer, prettier side. There is one good motorway grade road running through the centre, however the "B" roads are in a rather poor condition, the pavements infinitely worse. This island puts me in mind of mainland Fiji, with its jagged volcanic peaks, acres of sugar cane country, dilapidated ramshackle towns, its colourful multi cultural population. From the south east right up to the north east coast there is fringing reef and we looked out to see the Indian Ocean surf pounding upon it, memories of our rough and tumble crossing still very much in the forefront of our minds. How soothing and comforting it was to be on terra firma. The coastal strip was pristine, not a trace of litter, the casuarina trees giving a lovely shade. It is the flowering season for hibiscus and bourganvillea which grows in abundance everywhere. But we also saw a rich and poor divide, driving through scruffy villages before emerging down the coast where one huge exclusive resort developments followed another. We had an off road experience driving through the world heritage site at Le Morne. The towering 556 metre rock of granite and basalt is known as Le Morne Brabant, and we bumped our way over the rough track at its base and which curves around the peninsula, skirting past a bay packed with Sunday kite surfers. On through rolling landscapes of sugar cane before joining the coast road once more, to view the sea battered cliffs of Gris- Gris and Souillac. We made a most perfect choice for lunch at St Aubin colonial plantation house, eating in style on its shady verandah. We struck up a conversation with group of young people sitting at an adjoining table. Steve and Fiona from Adelaide were on honeymoon and with Mauritian friends Cristophe and his wife. Looking for a bed for the night he called up on our behalf the Preskil Beach Resort Hotel where he was manager and checked the availability. There was a room for each of us and we were given us a discount to boot. We spent a lovely evening in the company of our newly made young friends. Close by there is a beautiful islet, Ile du Cerf (Stag Island), and the next morning we took a boat trip out to view it and the waterfall. It was a real white knuckle ride. I think our young driver, Dominique, was testing the ladies. Driving at speeds up to 57 knots I found it quite hair-raising. I looked over at Jenny's knuckles and saw they were as white as mine. We tore at breakneck speeds through the mangroves and our dare devil nudged the boat right up to the base of the waterfall at Grand Riviere Sud-Est. I held my nerve. There was no way I was going to appear a wimp in front of a twenty something whippersnapper! Going along at eight or nine knots will seem positively tame from now on. We had a lovely lunch overlooking the peaceful bay at Trou d'Eau Douce (Hole of Sweet Water) and recovered our equilibrium. Now we drove up the east coast, more glitzy resort hotels. The next stop at the botanical gardens of Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam named after the first prime minister but more commonly known by its former name of Pamplemousse, provided a welcome shady respite from the afternoon heat and we were given an excellent guided tour from Azgar. The giant water lily (Victoria Amazonia), lotus and arum lily ponds were a particular highlight. Our day ended up in Grand Baie on the north west coast where we enjoyed sundowners at the yacht club overlooking the bay, drinks very cheap at £1 per drink and then found dinner in a tiny back street restaurant, again giving very good value for money. The following morning we visited the sugar museum, formerly a sugar factory, where we could easily have spent an entire day. Not only did it give a comprehensive history of how sugar came to Mauritius, it gave a comprehensive history of the island. The £7 entry fee seemed expensive but we all agreed it was well worth it. Lunch followed at another colonial house, Eureka, which was real traditional Mauritian style home cooking. It had 109 doors leading out onto its shady verandah. Compared to St Aubin, this was shabby splendour, but I just loved wandering through its airy high ceilinged rooms, looking at antiques, family portraits. It was packed with relics of bygone days. Back into the 21st century and reality, we drove to a huge newly opened hypermarket, for the inevitable pre departure shop.
Mr. Fix It!
He bent over my watch, his eye piece peering into the workings. Water had got into it. I nodded. It had happened during our ARC crossing back in December last year. Then I had taken it to a jewellers shop in St Lucia but they simply shook their heads. "Sorry, it cannot be fixed, it has rusted". Now my little old wizened man offered me a glimmer of hope. Come back in fifteen minutes. For 200 rupees, he had fitted a new battery and interior mechanism. It was as good as new. I took my reading glasses to two local opticians. The lens had fallen out and they claimed the frame was broken and tried to sell me a new pair. I wasn't going to fall for that one. The screw was merely rusted and required drilling out, with a new one to replace. My third attempt, the proprietor led me across the street to the jewellers shop, and my little ninety something wizard. It would be difficult but it was possible. It cost a mere 100 rupees. Port Louis has really come up trumps for us in all kinds of ways......
Susan Mackay