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[brother]

I doesn’t get much better than this
By Kosta Pavlowitch


I MUST declare an interest. Mauritius is not just any old sun-drenched tropical paradise; it’s a place of idyllic childhood memories where every crack in the dark volcanic rocks, every tree and every little bay in the coastline stretching out before me carries an association of long summer holidays, surrounded by cousins, aunts, uncles and loving grandparents. For an only child whose everyday routine was a red brick English neighbourhood, the contrast is easy to imagine.

Yet, whatever my bias, Mauritius is a sun-drenched tropical paradise. Every cliché you can think of, this is pretty much it. Sparkling turquoise seas protected by coral reefs, lapping up against endless, empty beaches of white sand dotted with coconut trees; fabulously luxurious boutique hotels, shrouded in luscious tropical vegetation that makes them invisible from the road; deep green volcanic mountains breaking up the skyline then plunging into the sea; bright red and yellow birds chirping outside your window, coming to pick the crumbs from your breakfast table; friendly smiling faces and a generous welcome at every step you take.

It could go on for ever: I could tell you how I found myself in the path of a shoal of flying fish as I took my morning swim, of the joys of sipping fresh passion fruit or tamarind juice, of the contact of ice-cold beer on salty lips as you emerge from the Indian Ocean, of devouring freshly fished and barbequed lobster as you listen to invisible waves crashing against the rocks in an ink black night. Enough…

One of the first things that strikes you in the tropics is the smell. The heat and humidity awakens smells in a different way, more lingering and sensuous than we expect in Europe. There are the predictable ones, the salty ever-present reminder of the sea, the smell of algae, of dark red earth and of grass – lovely soft flat blades of grass (believe me, it’s hard to get back into shoes and socks after a week); the perfume of frangipani and the heady scents of spice and salted fish. There’s the Mauritius smell: sugar – a rich caramel that clings over an island planted from north to south in sugar cane. Stick your nose in the demerara sugar jar (probably Mauritian) and you’ll begin to understand. Then there are distinctly odd smells, like newspapers (!), whose soft paper smells almost sickly sweet, yet strangely reassuring (childhood memories again). Humidity does funny things.

Mauritius is a rainbow nation. A desert island due east from Madagascar, it was settled by French colonists in the eighteenth century, bringing slaves from the African mainland. The island passed to British rule during the Napoleonic wars and with the abolition of slavery, immigration from India began to grow (the Indian population now makes up the majority). A Chinese minority also settled in the late nineteenth century, monopolising a large part of retail trade.

The result: a francophone island that drives on the left and is obsessed with premiership football (yes, there’s a village called Arsenal – for historical reasons of course, but with giant murals of the Gunners to show their pride in the name); newspapers in French, with quotes in Creole (the pidgin French spoken by all) and occasional articles in English (the official language); a mind-boggling coexistence of faiths – Roman Catholic, Hindu (of various sects), Muslim, Buddhist; and a mouth-watering fusion cuisine (before the trendy concept was even conceived) that combines the best of French, Indian, Creole and Chinese.

If it’s pure relaxation you want, just contemplate the ocean and pamper yourself in indulgent luxury: the result is guaranteed. If you have itchy, curious feet, rent a car and drive inland, up into the mountains and into richly primeval tropical forest, or plunge yourself into the bustle and bazaars of Port Louis, the island’s capital. The colours, smells and sounds will simply dazzle you.

And as you lie down to digest a giant lunch of rice, squid curry and dhal, just listen to the sea: pick out the sounds as the first waves crash against the rocks to rise into fine spray and fall back again; then, the softer swell lapping up against the beach before dragging the sand back as it retreats, pulling back and folding over itself, while in the distance the ocean rumbles continuously against the breakers. It could just be nostalgia, but, believe me, it doesn’t get much better than this.

Emirates flies regularly from Larnaca to Mauritius via Dubai. www.emirates.com



IT SOUNDS SO GREAT THAT I WANT TO GO NOW TO THIS LITTLE GEM OF A PARADISE.

[sk]

hehe....i am going to mauritious at some point....i have classmates from there and they will invite me to their wedding!!!!

[brother]

You lucky so and so, when you go out there do make sure you take lots of pictures and then if you do not mind posting them here or on another site with a link so we can see them, have a nice time over there.

[metecyp]

I have a friend from Mauritius and I saw some pictures of the place. It looks like a paradise! We agreed that he'll come and visit me in Cyprus (since he heard of the fame of Agia Napa) and I'll go and visit him in Mauritius at some point.

[michalis5354]

A relative of mine have recently visited the place.They had a great time!They went through Dubai as the Link shows above and according to them Dubai is also a nice place! The climate in Dubai was very hot so airconditions were all over the place!