Sunday 8 March 2015

On the Ile Maurice

by James Allen

‘Hello!’ The voice was followed out onto the balcony by a small hotel employee.

‘I knocked at the door, but didn’t get an answer, so I came in to check’ she explained. ‘Let me introduce myself, I’m Radha, one of your personal butlers for the week.’

At this point Mara and I exchanged a bemused glance – eyebrows raised – personal butlers?
Radha proceeded to give us a list of things that the butlers did, which wasn’t really butlering – but they would have unpacked for us (already done), book restaurants, arrange flowers, do ironing (within 48 hours of arrival), arrange for laundry, book spa treatments and pack our cases before we left – this last tempted us, but we could just picture the scene at Mauritius Airport check in:-
Security question one: ‘Did you pack your own bags?’
Our answer: ‘Well no, our butler packed them.’

At this point I imagine security staff would drop from the ceiling on ropes while others would run in rapidly to remove us and our bags for ‘further inspection’. Oh well...


After Radha left, and as we sat on the sun balcony wondering about how or why we got our personal butler, my thoughts went back to how we got here. This conversation had occurred one cold dark evening last November.

‘Do you fancy a trip to somewhere warm, say the Indian Ocean?’ I called.

‘Hmm, where?’ questioned Mara.


‘OK - well, there’s the Maldives, the Seychelles or Mauritius. They’re all islands but I think Mauritius is the largest and furthest south [quickly reading this out from a book].’
‘OK.’

That was it! Book a holiday. Some long research later I announced the verdict – The Hilton Spa and Resort Mauritius, half board, six nights and flights overnight (each way) with Air Mauritius.

Saturday 4pm, and it was just beginning to get dark at Heathrow as we arrived at the car park and gladly handed the keys over to our van driver, putting ourselves in the hands of others for the next week. Terminal Three at Heathrow had its normal rush of travellers, but we quickly found the check in counter for Air Mauritius and tentatively approached. Well, just five minutes later, we had been issued boarding cards and were heading for the departure area. After an hour in the lounge we headed to the gate. Things were a bit pell-mell but we boarded and sat down, promptly falling asleep.

While it would be great to say ‘and we woke up in Mauritius’ we didn’t; but remarkably the flight while crowded was OK and we did arrive on time at midday Sunday. 

It took a long time to clear immigration but afterwards we collected our bags and headed to the exit, where we found a representative waiting for us. From there we were whisked towards a car for the drive across the island to the hotel. Here – outside – we realised two things:-


1. It was hot

2. We had our ‘cold’ clothes on


As we walked over to the car we started to remove the fleeces, jumpers/sweaters, outer shirts and once in the car the driver turned up the air con – high!

The driver explained that this was the tourist low season (but summer here in the southern hemisphere) because the weather could be wet and very occasionally they got a cyclone (hurricane). He also explained that the official language is English, but everyone speaks French (Ile Maurice being the French name) and many speak Creole. Many Mauritanians follow football and are more likely to support England than France in international tournaments (this was proved time after time as we were asked which team we followed). Finally he said that about 50% of the country was Hindu, 25% Catholic, 17% Muslim and the remaining ‘Chinese’ – an effective way of summing up both ethnic and religious background of the country! We summarised too that over 50% were Manchester United supporters and the other 50% split between Arsenal and Liverpool (and some of the smaller teams!)

The drive across the island took 50 minutes and took us from the wetter east side to the drier west. We were driven along the motorway – a dual carriageway or two-lane freeway with occasional roundabouts. Then through the towns of Quatre Bornes (Four Milestones) and Curepipe (pronounced cue-pie) and down the mountainside to Flic en Flac.

On arrival at the hotel we were greeted by a porter who took our cases and another who rang a large gong – this reverberated around the hotel and in my head for a second or two. I never found out if the gong (rang for each guest arrival) was a warning to staff to be ready, a little bit of theatre, a way of making each guest feel important (a showy way) or that Las Vegas trick of dropping a coin at a time so it sounds like people are always winning – used here to show other guests that people are always arriving – or perhaps all of these or, indeed, none. The staff all greeted us by placing their right hand over their heart.

We were then taken to the bar, with a view of the whole resort; while the formalities of check-in were completed we were provided with a welcome drink and cold towel. Here things also got better. We were told our room was upgraded to a junior suite – a large room, and that we would find a shirt and a sarong as gifts of the resort. Finally we found that we were invited to a customer service reception on the Tuesday night.

When we arrived in the room, which turned out to be first floor (i.e. one floor up) we found that we were only 20 feet from the beach. We also found the goodies and a fruit platter and biscuits. We spent the next couple of hours going around the resort and the beach, finding out where things were and deciding what free water sports we would do. On our return to the room and while taking some photos from the balcony our butler arrived.

Monday – we awoke to the sound of the birds and the waves. Heading for the breakfast buffet we were hit by the heat (30C/88F) at 7.30am – our booking was on a half board basis, which is breakfast and dinner, with the plan to have a big breakfast to tide us over to dinner – the buffet was huge, mainly international in style, but some local items including smoked Blue Marlin, fresh local fruit and aloe vera yoghurt.

We then started on the water sports. We started slowly – literally - with the pedalos in the lagoon. We selected this, so we could go out and take photos from the sea of the beach, the hotel and the countryside behind and around. The lagoon was about 500 yards to the reef and ran two or three miles along the coast. The area was dominated by three hills, one behind the resort one to the south and one taller but further south.

We managed to work our way up and down the lagoon and passed the other hotels/resorts either side of the Hilton. It was surprising since the Hilton felt busy (not full, but certainly 75% full) while many of the other hotels seemed to be less than half full (based on the people at the beach), as our driver said it was low season. We also took out single kayaks and again went further around the lagoon.

Tuesday – A little more of the same, water sports and a trip on the glass bottomed boat. This was restricted because we couldn’t go across the reef due to the rougher seas, but we did see fish and coral – both alive and dead – brain, fan carol and the classic tree style, which seemed to glow with a light blue luminescence at the tips.

Later we walked up to the local town, along the road about 1 ½ miles, before getting some stamps and extra suntan lotion. We then walked back along the beach to our hotel, arriving back just before the rain in the late afternoon, so we prepared for the cocktail party – by going for a sauna and steam at the spa.

The drinks at the reception were good and we had a long chat with the customer service manager. We then started talking to another English couple, who had been there a few more days than us. During this chat we were joined by the general manager of the hotel, a German, who explained that she was general manager of both the Mauritius and the Seychelles Hilton hotels. Now I don’t know about you but that sounds like a dream job! She let slip that the greeting ‘salute’ was a hotel custom, which the staff and guests quickly adapted too; she also mentioned that she was lucky with her sales department when we mentioned the local hotels’ lack of guests.

Wednesday: some light rain and heavy rain in the national parks – we had booked a car but were warned that due to the Shiva festival the roads might be busy. We accepted that and drove off heading south for the day; we first headed to the ‘Coloured Earths’.
This is a national park, and contains both the biggest waterfall on the island and the coloured earths. The falls were high, and swelled by the recent rains were dramatic; however a sudden rainstorm sent us back to the car and moved us on to the coloured earths. This is a large area of bare earth that has seven very distinct colours running through it in bands. While wet they seemed to gleam with colour. As we walked around the sun came out and transformed the colours by making them lighter. As we walked back to the car we stopped to look at the four large tortoises which are kept there.

We left here and travelled in the rain into the major national park. The road headed up, and up, passing a rum distillery (we did stop but the cost seemed high for what was on offer) and we headed to the first overlook. The rain was light when we arrived and we walked down to the overlook, only to find the hills covered in cloud. As we turned however we caught sight of a monkey in a tree some 30 – 40 yards away, but it soon moved away.


Due to the closure of the road for the festival further through the park, we headed south to the coast and headed around the island back to the hotel. We passed the monument to the first Dutch landing on the island.

We arrived in Black River and the Martello Tower museum. The first Europeans to find the island were the Dutch, in the late 17th century. They sent settlers who finally gave up and returned home in 1712 after having eaten the entire dodo species – yes, the Dutch did it! – but it was Lewis Carroll who gave us the ‘as dead as a Dodo’ phrase. In 1721 the French arrived and settled down with their slaves to grow sugar on plantations.

Then the English arrived and after a couple of defeats (including the only naval battle the French won while Napoleon was Emperor), succeed and the French surrendered in 1805. The surrender document allowed the French to stay and carry on their business, so the French language continued under an English governor. However the English, ever doubtful of the French, built a series of ‘Martello’ Towers around the island to defend against further possible French attacks.

We got a very comprehensive tour and talk about tower – even a dig at the Dutch for eating all the dodos. All across the island the dodo image was used advertising almost anything for tourists.

Thursday – We headed north and found ourselves in a huge traffic jam associated with the Shiva festivals, but we finally arrived at the Pamplemousse Gardens. These are advertised as the world’s third most beautiful gardens (yes, I asked the question – gardens one and two are reportedly in Brazil and Sri Lanka).

We hired a local guide and found ourselves with a French couple going around the gardens. I took plenty of photographs but the overriding impressions were smells. The guide took us to various spice trees and with bark, leaf or fruit we smelt our way around the spice rack.
The other items of interest were the giant lily pads, on which a small child (approx. 10kg) could stand, obviously this was not allowed (any more), but it made a good mental image. While walking here we spotted some pink caviar like substance on the path. This was snails’ eggs!
We went to the sugar mill across the road and tried the sugars and rum before heading back to Port Louis, where we were going in search of the most expensive stamps in the world.

Stamps become rare for any number of reasons, but these are the rarest in the world. After the British took over the island they started a series of ‘improvements’ like abolishing slavery, and introducing a post office system where the sender paid - not the receiver. The first stamps were engraved incorrectly (well engraved as asked - Post Office, but what was required was Post Paid). This was only noticed on the day of issue and the stamps withdrawn and destroyed, all except 12 (of both 2 and 1 penny versions) which had been given, and used, by the governor’s wife the day before.

Of the 24 used, only a few remain and as such are considered the world’s rarest and therefore the most expensive stamps. In the late 1990s a consortium of Mauritian companies got together to purchase two stamps and build a museum for them. It was here that we headed.
The museum covers the history of the island and its place in the world. One of the best we have visited in years, it was comprehensive and yet small enough to encourage people to linger and study the exhibits. We did get to see the stamps themselves and examples of the ‘correct’ stamps.

The museum covered the post office system development along with the railways (which were closed in 1964 and sold to Israel) before independence in 1968, as well as the history of the island. It also covered the famous book ‘Paul et Virginie’ – a doomed love story set in Mauritius in the late 18th century – and its author Bernardin de Saint-Pierre.

Friday – as it was a national day we had decided to stay in the resort: the weather was hot and sunny and we were looking forward to relaxing and using the water sports. So we took out kayaks, cycled up to town again, took part in a snorkel treasure hunt (I found the treasure!), went out over the reef in the snorkel boat to snorkel, while good, the range of fish and coral while interesting was less than we had seen in Hawaii.

We both had a short lesson on windsurfing, which proved more difficult than we thought. Fun but not straightforward – and yes, we both kept falling in...

That night we ended up having cocktails with friends before heading towards the Ginger Thai restaurant. We had been asked earlier why we were on holiday and had explained that, as apart of our 25th wedding anniversary year, we were travelling a lot. Well, with the word out, we found ourselves being given royal treatment at the restaurant – best table in the house, a glass of champagne each, special cake and upon returning to our room found it decorated beautifully. They had used towels to create two swans and then used local flowers and petals to decorate them and the room.

Saturday – comprised resting, packing and in the early afternoon the chance to try water-skiing. Hmm - five faces full of sea water and I gave up – like windsurfing, it’s not easy!
We changed into our warm clothes for the return – but when we arrived to cold snowy England early Sunday morning it was still cold. It was a sharp reminder of what we had been missing...

My overriding memory of Mauritius will be looking at the darkening heavens; stars slowly appearing brightly above us. Feeling warm and comfortable at 28C (82F), a soft wind barely rustling the palm trees behind us and the gentle, constant light sound of the waves lapping at the beach just in front of us overlaid by the deeper sound of the waves on the reef; feeling overwhelming content, peaceful and relaxed.

First published in VISA 90 (Apr 2010)

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