Tag: Mauritius

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Chateau de Labourdonnais

Walking along the majestic avenue towards the chateau is like passing through a tunnel. We’re told that the trees that obstruct the distant view yet create a magical, intriguing pathway are Ficus macrocarpa and also known as Chinese banyan. This is a ‘tunnel’ that is begging to be investigated. Every now and again the blazing sun appears from behind the white puffs of cloud in the sky. The natural sunlight almost provides spotlights along this tunnel as the rays shine through the branches and leaves. Heavenly birdsong drowns out the sound of our weary feet walking along the stony drive. We take a moment to pause. There is ‘light at the end of the tunnel’. We can see distant pillars forming part of a structure located behind a small fountain at the end of the path. We walk slowly under the blanket of greenery that shades us and the view changes with each step as we get closer to the building. Then, as if by magic, we have escaped. The avenue suddenly sprawls into a bowl shape that surrounds a basic and charming fountain. The water splashing out of the playful child statue cannot distract from the elegance and beauty the chateau behind.

   

A brief history
The marketing material reads ‘estate established 1774’. As mentioned previously, this was during the French occupation of the island. At the time, the plot of land was a concession granted to two young orphans, Marie Louise and Henriette Tréouart de Longpré. We learned that these concessions were granted to colonists to develop the land. This normally involved property improvements and developing agriculture. By the time the British were in possession of the island, a certain Mr Jean Baptiste Germain bought a plot of the land in 1814. He built the first sugar mill in the island on that property. 7 years later in 1821, Mr. Jacques de Chasteigner Du Mée bought the estate. He set about extending it from a modest 186 to around 1400 acres in 8 years. Upon his death the property passed to his two daughters: Mrs Aubin and Mrs Bourgault. In 1839 the estate was named Labourdonnais (perhaps after the Governor we learned about in the last blog, however, he had nothing to do with this property). Mrs Bourgault’s son-in-law (Christian Wiehe) was married to her daughter Emilie. In 1856 Christian decided to build a chateau. It only took three years to complete. Christian Wiehe was evidently a clever man with good business acumen. I’m led to believe that he was a distinguished Mauritian.

The Chateau
This is not a castle (the French word château means castle), but a magnificent mansion. The pristine appearance screams wealth and prestige. The restoration work that has been undertaken here is most excellent. The designs of these plantation houses have taken into consideration the hot weather. This one has a double veranda that looks like a wrapping around the house that almost hides it. It is stunning with a colonnade of white/cream pillars, almost Romanesque, which are used to support the first floor and roof. It is, to my mind, a simple yet effective design. One could imagine sitting out on the veranda and enjoying the view back up the avenue. We sat awhile and watched the playful birds. There is a difference between this chateau and Eureka Mansion, built 1830, and it is stark. One feels that the first owner of Labourdonnais was richer than Mr. Le Clezio but this is only an impression gained. This may be down to differing levels of investment in the refurbishments but there is a clear contrast.

 

After walking across the veranda and through the entrance hallway, we start to notice the symmetrical alignment and details of the whole house. The dining room has delightful scenes painted on the walls which add a real splash of colour. A chandelier provides glamour above a plain brown table which has been left laid, one feels, for some imaginary guests. On the opposite side of the hallway is the lounge. Again, this is beautifully restored. It is, however, very bland in comparison to the colour and style in the room we have left behind. Other rooms on this floor include a pantry, a storage room and a study.

 

On the first floor is a bedroom neatly laid out, and where you can watch a documentary about the restoration work that took place here (time was short and, sadly, we missed out), and then there are some exhibition rooms. These displays provide valuable information about the island, the agriculture activities that took place and the history of the Wiehe family. Regrettably, we didn’t have the time to read all this information as we were exhausted from our day out. Thankfully, I managed to take some notes on the important information that has proved invaluable in writing this blog. After completing this floor, we left the house from the far side to explore the grounds.

   

The Domaine
I mentioned earlier that the estate is vast and not all could be seen on this quick visit. We made do with the visit to the chateau and a walk around the small garden area attached to the side of the house and also to a little ‘farm’ area. The small garden area and grounds around the house showcase the natural beauty of the vibrant flowers, and trees including towering palms. Altogether they create a sumptuous display of colour and exude a potent fragrance. Being animal lovers, we quickly bypassed the ‘farm’ area as it seemed to be too crowded and a lot of petting was underway. Instead, we enjoyed the local flowers and birdlife. Along the way we could see the sugar mill in the distance and we finished at the rum distillery. The wider estate has diversified as time has passed and developed a couple of shops, a restaurant, a café, a garden centre, and a school. A ticket to visit the chateau also includes a tasting session of their home-grown rum. Created using fruits and sugars grown on the estate, we feel sure that the rum is good, but, sadly, our taste buds didn’t enjoy it (to be fair we don’t enjoy rum back home either!!). We can say that we sampled the rum but are not the best tourists to pass comment.

This was the most up to date attraction that we visited on the island. It is testament to the stunning work that has been undertaken to preserve the chateau. We hope to return one day. In the meantime, anyone visiting please feel free to let us know your feelings.

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Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam Botanic Garden in Pamplemousses

Rumours of its beauty, its history as the oldest botanic garden in the southern hemisphere, combined with the knowledge that it is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Mauritius, meant a visit was a must. The Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam Botanic Garden in Pamplemousses didn’t disappoint!! Botanist’s we are not, but we certainly enjoyed viewing the vast species these gardens had to offer. Our visit and further research once home also educated us, not only on the flora, fauna and birdlife but also on a few people associated with the island’s history.

We were given a couple of maps after paying our small entrance fees, and, wanting some time to ourselves, we ignored (perhaps wrongly) paying for a guide to take us around and instead tried to navigate our way to the points of interest. The guide would have provided us with valuable insight and knowledge of what we saw, but alas, it was our honeymoon, and it was nice just to enjoy each other’s company!!

François Mahé de Labourdonnais
A Frenchman and a successful sailor and trader before he became Governor of the Island (1735-1749). He set about raising many buildings, including a fort, armoury, and warehouses. He established Port Louis as a naval base and installed a dry dock to establish ship building. He also set about building a number of houses, one of which was Chateau de Mon Plaisir. Following our newly acquired maps we headed straight for the first point of interest, the Chateau. A beautiful building standing proudly, it immediately captivated our attention as we walked towards it blissfully unaware of its history. We admired the building but didn’t venture anywhere near or inside the building, I mean, we were here to see plants!! There were some noticeable trees planted by famous visitors. One in particular caught the eye and that was planted by Princess Margaret on the 1st October 1956 and labelled “Lagerstroemia speciosa.”

Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam
As we moved around the chateau capturing photos from different angles we discovered a place which, I imagine, would have huge significance to the people of Mauritius – a memorial to Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam. We were walking on the exact place in which one of the country’s most illustrious sons and who was also called the ‘Father of the Nation’ had been cremated on 17th December 1985 (as was Hindu tradition), 2 days after he deid at the state house in his role as Governor General. It is evident that this man was a giant among Mauritians and highly respected. He was a politician, statesman and philanthropist who fought for the rights of the labourers. His most noticeable contribution was, surely, securing independence from British rule in 1968 and in turn becoming the country’s first prime minster. The significance of the man has only been realised as a result of this trip. Not having been alive when these events happened it is easy to bypass part of British history and the breaking up of the empire. We perhaps should have realised the importance of the man when we arrived at the Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam Airport.

   

Pierre Poivre
We left the memorial to Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam and followed the main avenue (Avenue Sir John Pope Hennessy) towards the white lotus pond. We were enamoured by the local birds as they entertained us on the grass as we walked. The pond had striking, white, lotus plants, photos of which we captured before moving on to find the main feature – the giant lily pond.

Just before our arrival at the lilies, there was a bust of a gentleman called Pierre Poivre. Again, we blame our unintentional ignorance of who this man was on a lack of resources. With a name like Pierre, you would be right in thinking he was French, which indeed he was! I’ve mentioned that France controlled the islands through the East India company before the British took control in 1830s. During the French ownership, Pierre (in 1765) became Intendent (Governor) of the island and neighbouring Reunion. He founded the botanical gardens that are enjoyed to this day back in 1769 as he tried to break up the Dutch’s monopoly of spices. He brought many plants and seedlings to the island which were mainly varieties of cloves and nutmeg.

Bust of Pierre Poivre at Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam Botanic Garden in Pamplemousses

The head of this figure was made such that he looked directly at the Giant Lily Pond. The spectacular Victoria amazonica lilies bathe on the surface of the pond. These lilies are huge compared to the lilies we’re used to back home. Their roots are noticeable around the side and beneath the plants as they lay peacefully in the water. I am not sure whether to describe them as bowling green like or green floating pancakes. They certainly drew a crowd – both people and birds alike.

We left the lilies and, following the map, tried to discover anything else that was fascinating. We did walk along ‘Avenue Charles Telfair’ in search of ‘Talipot’ tree. I think it was the wrong time of the year for this to be in bloom as we did not notice it or could see it. We spent time admiring all the flora and fauna. The avenues that we walked were stunning, lined with tall palm trees on both sides. They looked all the same but apparently this is home to over 80 different types of palm tree! We meandered our way around the rest of the gardens before heading back to the main entrance. The gardens spread across some 37.5 hectares.

 

As we walked back we made our way along  ‘Avenue Bernardin de St Pierre’ it brought us to the edge of the ‘Grand Bassin’ (I would guess a man-made pond), where we watched nature in all its glory. I mentioned in the ‘Tamarin Trawling’ blog how I had been fascinated with the striated heron. We were lucky enough to see one attempt to get his dinner. We were stood on the edge of the pond and were trying to photograph one in the distance, when Hannah quietly pointed to one just in front of us. I quickly refocused my camera when I saw that he had a fish in his mouth. We stood there watching as the heron tried to kill the fish. The fish was a slippery customer and managed to escape, bloody and wounded back to the haven of the water. The heron bemused by defeat then prowled along the edge of the pond hoping to recapture its prey. Sadly, we couldn’t stay any long to watch any more action. A natural display of life, survival and potential death and food.

Looking back at the map, it looks like all the avenues are named after people. I would be very surprised if they aren’t associated with the country’s history or had been visitors. We were visitors but, sadly, I don’t think we will get an avenue named after us!! We returned to the entrance absolutely enchanted by our visit to this botanical garden. Perhaps we learned something that day – don’t ignore these botanical gardens when visiting new places on future holidays.

Pamplemousses, Mauritius
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House of 109 doors

I feel there is no better place than Eureka Mansion to delve into the fascinating colonial history of Mauritius. Mauritius was claimed by France in 1715 and was administered by the French East India Company. The French government took control in 1767. In 1810 the island was captured by the British during the Napoleonic Wars. In the last blog we looked at how the British built their defences and this creole house was built in 1830 between the Moka river and Mount Ory. The house is perfectly sheltered among the local trees, and sits beneath the Mount which provides the most stunning back drop to this picturesque, colonial house (as I think you would agree from the pictures).

It was built by Mr. Carr, a British aristocrat, who wanted to be close to ‘Le Réduit’ (the Governor’s house – which is now, coincidently, home of the President of Mauritius). I’m led to believe that it was then sold to Mr & Mrs Robinson via an intermediary family before the Robinsons sold it in 1856 to Eugène Le Clézio. I must admit to being a little bit confused over these next stages of its history, so hopefully I have got this right. I believe that Eugène was the eldest son of François Alexis Le Clézio. When François visited the island and discovered the home, it was the home of his dreams and said Eureka! (reference Archimedes’ exclamation Eureka!). This family would remain owners of the house for the next 120 years. The family was to build its wealth on the island’s sugar industry. The house passed through the generations before finally being sold to 2 real estate agents in 1975. They only kept it for two months before Jacques Planteau de Maroussem and his in-laws bought it. Jacques’ mother-in-law was a grandchild of Sir Henry Le Clézio (son of Eugène) so the house was in family ownership once more.

 

The house was built completely out of wood. It is now a museum and provides a fascinating insight into 19th century Mauritius and the country’s plantation past. It certainly is a masterpiece of tropical construction. It is a real beauty to behold (look at that picture with the mountain behind the house). It was built using local ebony and mahogany wood and with some of the structural beams are made of tambalacoque wood (the seeds of this tree were eaten by the dodo). Two verandas were constructed. One points to the north (for the winter) and one to the south (for the summer). It is through the northern veranda that entrance to the house is made. As we walked into it we immediately felt like we had stepped back in time. Fine furniture and curious antiques were in each of the ground floor rooms. Particular sights of interest were an antique gramophone, and old camera and a piano (remembering my youth when lessons were regular, and I wish I hadn’t stopped playing) where we duly sat for a customary tourist photo. There was no kitchen in the house as it was made out of wood. This was a good design feature as this separate building was only a short way from the main house – fire prevention I guess.

     

We finally dragged ourselves out of the house to explore the grounds and gardens. Sprawling out in front of the southern porch was a lush green lawn which narrowed off at the far end. To the left was a secluded pathway that took you to the end of the garden. At the end of the path, there was a little area where we turned around to look back at that incredible view. Beautiful. Stunning location. The sun peeking through the clouds lit up this wonderful house, some of the 109 doors and windows gleaming like laser beacons at us. The small, planted area at the bottom of the garden looked like it had been constructed in the shape of a heart.

We left this dreamy Mauritian view and continued to follow the path. The path was to lead to the famous waterfalls that formed part of the estate. The path did change to a steep and uneven route which passed through Mauritian flora and fauna. Not being an expert on this, it was of little interest apart from providing shade from the beating sun. Along the way there was a sign that I’ve read before but is always a poignant reminder of the need to look nature. “Kill nothing but time. Leave only footprints. Take only pictures”. When we reached the bottom of our climb, we found 3 fine waterfalls but the fourth one didn’t look that impressive. We could have spent longer enjoying the therapeutic sounds of flowing water and bird song, but we were keen to see so much more so we walked quickly between the waterfalls before making the climb back the way we came. The heat certainly made harder work of the route, but we got back to the house invigorated but exhausted, hot and sweaty and in desperate need of a drink. We duly supported the local café/kitchen by buying a couple of drinks. We sat out on the northern porch and took a moment to ourselves before heading back to our patient driver who waited in the car for us. Join us as we move onto our next stop of this island.

 

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Martello Tower Museum

Leaving behind the physical and fun activities, it was now time to vary our excursions to do some educational exploration. We could have been daring and hired a car to explore the island but in holiday/honeymoon mode we were content with using a local taxi man (Jay) to drive us around and take a more laid-back approach. Jay was a recommendation from a fellow guest (they having used him on a taxi journey) and worked out a lot cheaper than booking through an online company or our hotel. This is clear evidence of the value of meeting and talking with people and not always relying on the internet – as if evidence were needed!! The internet has its uses but social media has changed the way we communicate, and that not for the better. Face to face communication is a dying art and its future doesn’t look bright based on the teens and twenties we see. We booked two day trips with Jay and split these into a day meandering into the north of the island and a day meandering around the middle and southern part of the island. After a few exchanged WhatsApp messages (the internet has its uses!!), we agreed on some places to visit.

The first place that we visited was the Martello tower. Our taxi was a smart Suzuki. Most cars we observed on our meanderings were modern and the roads on which we travelled were of good condition. We left the main road/highway before turning into the local housing, wondering where we might be headed. Jay was quick to point out a random sign saying that it was the right way. We parked up in what looked like a normal public car park – like we have back home. Directly in front of us was a mound and to the rear of us the tower. It was clear to see that the car park was ‘overseen’ by a short and stumpy tower. The addition of the car park meant that he local landscape was a lot different now compared to the time when the tower was built. We left the car immediately and made a beeline for the entrance to the tower. A little puzzled and amused at the need to rush in, all became clear. We quickly walked in and handed over the a pittance of an entry fee. The lady behind the counter, registered our visit before she went to the entrance and brought the prison cell like door shut and locked it up. Fearing an ambush/capture we were quickly put at ease when our driver (who accompanied us on the tour) explained that we were on a private tour and that we wouldn’t be disrupted as the door was locked. We quickly relaxed into the informative chat provided to us by our guide.

It is evident there has been some serious love, care and investment put into the restoration of this building. It shows an important past in the island’s history. Personally, I always find these places fascinating. I always try to visit anything that is British when on my meanderings. It was amazing to see how vast the British empire extended at its height. Was it not the largest empire known to man? A quarter of the world’s land area ‘belonged’ (there is a debate to be enjoyed about the use of this word!!) to the British back in 1913. Flights have made travel so much quicker and easier, but when the British captured these lands, it would have been some boat journey here.

When the British captured the island, they decided to build 5 towers along the west coast in strategic locations near to river mouths as part of the coastal defence against a French invasion. At the time the French weren’t too happy with the British plans to abolish slavery. Building started in 1832 and were completed in just 3 years. This was just a couple of years before Queen Victoria came to the throne in 1837. The British based the towers’ design on a tower they had been impressed with during a conflict against the French during a fierce battle at Mortella Bay, Corsica. The Brits were so impressed by these structures that they took them to all parts of the empire to aid its protection. The 5 towers were never to see any military action.

Our guide was based on the current “entrance” level (I believe that this wasn’t the original entrance level). When we walked into the tower it was noticeable how thick the walls were. Some were 11 feet thick! The tower was built using basalt rock. Beneath this entrance level (which I will refer to as ground level), was a fascinating design. Underneath the floor we walked on was where the water was stored. Whether it was the Brits or an idea they had pinched, they managed to design a system that harvested the rainwater captured on the roof and then was stored beneath them. Our guide was quick to pull on a device which showed us the water still stowed beneath us through a glass viewing point. The entrance floor our guide was on would have housed the powder magazine. She showed us some of the ammunition types that would have been stored here on this level.

     

Our guide then took us up some stairs to the first floor, and as we entered it an impressive fan vault ceiling was seen. It was surprising to see this in a bright, white colour. This was the area where the soldiers would have lived and slept and where the original entrance was. The captain/general in charge had their own area constructed out of timber. This had been carefully restored to display a captain writing at his desk. Around the middle were several muskets and a cannon ball where you could try and guess the weight. My guess was hopelessly wrong. If you are ever there, take a close look at the ceiling as you can see the stalactites forming.

   

We left the digs (first floor) and made our way to the final floor, which was the roof. As we came out onto the roof, the original cannon was set up in place, and it had been lovingly restored. Our guide was able to explain how it gave the small garrison a 360-degree shot. It now resided pointing out to sea. In the distance was Morne Le Brabant. It certainly was a dreamy view for us (not surprising considering our walk up that famous mountain), but you could see the strategic view from back in the day. Standing there one could dream of a tall ship waiting in the bay to invade or bring supplies. Sadly, it was all rather peaceful.

This completed the end of our tour of Martello Tower. It was quick. I couldn’t fully listen partly due to the fact it was hard to understand everything that was said (there were some language barriers which made it hard to understand). Some online research was needed to help write this blog and assist with the education, however, we thoroughly enjoyed our visit to the tower and used the internet to compound what knowledge we acquired on the day!! We certainly learned a lot and would recommend it to anyone else who is visiting this wonderful island.

     

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Tamarind Falls

The third and final part of our Mauritian adventures with Yanature (the tour company), was a half-day hike to the Tamarind Falls, also known as the 7 cascades. A must do apparently for anyone visiting the shores. Again, we had organised transport to pick us up from the hotel. We had a later pick up on this morning which was greatly appreciated! It meant we could enjoy breakfast before leaving.

The first hiccup of this trip occurred when we walked out, a taxi driver ushered us to jump in and he drove off hastily, clearly working to a tight time schedule. Half asleep we naively just followed him. Not until he left the complex did he and we realise that we weren’t the right guests for him to pick up, and he had to make a quick and embarrassing U-turn and return us to reception where our taxi was waiting. We quickly changed over before leaving for a second time. We then made the rather peaceful journey, inland and north of where we were staying.

On our arrival we were greeted by our hero Rowin, our guide from our first “hike”. Our mix up before we left meant we were the last to arrive, and this time we weren’t so lucky as to have our own personal tour. We were to be accompanied by two couples from Czechoslovakia, making us a group of 6 plus Rowin. We were dropped off on some fairly flat ground and on the edge of some sugar cane fields, we made our way around the edge of the crops. As we progressed, Rowin said that we were to take the small gap in the trees. Clearly this was a gap with which he was well acquainted. He had warned us that this hike wouldn’t be as difficult or technical as the mountain one which meant we were in relaxed spirits. We then started the descent down a steep track, using the trees, branches, roots and anything else we could lay our hands on for support (these would have been great on our first hike). Our hike was to navigate and see 5 of the cascades on the river Tamarin (see the second Mauritian second blog). Had we done the full day hike we would have seen all 7.

We arrived at the top of what was the second cascade, and clearly the highest point of the river we were to see. The area a hub of activity, as different tours were setting up or off. If the first cascade was also here it wasn’t that impressive as we didn’t even notice it, I fear it may have been nothing we hadn’t seen before. On the edge of the flowing water we walked around a few groups who were evidently going to be taking a more direct route to view the waterfalls. Rowin encouraged us to come close to the edge to look over the waterfall. We were going to get used to this as it happened again and again throughout the hike. Hannah watched from safe ground and at a distance as I laid down to peer over. I’m sure there are more daring “travellers” out there who will try to capture a more daring shot. I was happy just to say that I had peered over.

Customary snaps captured we found a safe place to cross the flowing water and started to make our way down the steep forest to the bottom of the 2nd cascade/waterfall. We zigzagged our way down, Rowin carefully guiding us as we dodged trees and stumps. Some of our other group’s members shoes probably weren’t appropriate as they tackled this section. As we came down we began to realise that we were going to be walking behind the waterfall. Whenever this happens it is an incredible experience. There were a couple of viewing points where we could grab a picture of the water falling from above. Rowin informed us that when we got to the bottom we could go for a swim. Already sweating in the heat this was music to my ears. We skirted our way around the edges to find our own little spot where we could gain access into the natural pool. I stripped off, climbed on top of the rock as I was told before jumping out into the pool. So cool and refreshing. I swam around the pool, before swimming underneath the falling water. I returned to the others and quickly dried off so we could carry on.

We left waterfall/cascade number 2. An impressive drop of water we hoped that the rest would be equally as impressive. For the moment we had done the serious descending, we went through some trees and navigated a muddy section before we arrived at the third waterfall. This one was tucked away on the other side from where we were hiking so wasn’t as impressive as the second one, we had just left behind. We quickly captured our custom photos.

Sadly the 4th waterfall wasn’t that impressive either, on our approach there was a pool where a few people had stopped and whipped off their shoes for a natural fish pedicure (personally I couldn’t think of anything worse) but it did lead us to the top of 5th and final waterfall we would be visiting. Again, there was a ledge where the water was falling, now more confident we were able to grab a spot near the edge for a photo, Hannah more confident and daring now, Rowin as always, our willing photographer.

Photo’s duly taken we made our final descent around the edge of the water through the local foliage to arrive at the final destination. By now we were all ready to cool off. We quickly stripped off and a combination of sliding graciously in and bombing were witnessed. I managed to climb up a little bit of the waterfall for a full shower this time before bombing off. Nature’s gift provides much more fun than the latest smart phone or video game. After playing about in cool and fresh water, we climbed out, and, after navigating the uncomfortable ground back to our clothes, got ourselves ready to descend back to civilization.

Before we left the river, Rowin wanted to show us the top of the sixth cascade which I think was perhaps the most impressive. It certainly looked the highest of all the ones that we saw. Hannah, invigorated from her swim and hike through nature’s playground, was brave enough to join me to peer over the edge. It certainly looked a long way down and can see why it was a full day hike to complete all 7. Perhaps next time we can tick those final two off.

                 

As the saying goes, what goes up must go down, or should I change it to what goes down must go up, sadly we had done the down first so we needed to get back up to starting point, where those sugar cane fields were. Rowin led the way and picked a gap in the trees which was an apparent path to the top. No struggling this time for us both, we were able to relax and enjoy this thoroughly compared to our experience on the mountain. Our only mistake was not re-applying the mossie spray, as they could clearly tell we weren’t local. We finally reached the top, after what seemed an age when we came out further into the sugar cane fields, we had earlier started in.

We walked slowly along a designated flat footpath back to where all the cars parked, and our taxi was waiting. It was here that we had to say goodbye to our guide, Rowin. He had been superb!! He provided us with two thrilling days of adventure, and certainly had taken us out of our comfort zones. Both days beat sleeping on a sun lounger. I’m sure we will keep in touch – he and his son are big Man Utd fans (yes I know that isn’t much fun these days). He is a fan of modern technology so this makes this cheap and easy to stay in touch. Common ground shared and a friendship built through travel is what travel is all about.

Join us as our next set of blogs as we look at some of the places we visited on taxi tours of the island.

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Tamarin Trawling

Tales of our second trip will seem tame in comparison to those of our first adventure. Another early wake up was required for today’s activity (so much for relaxing). We were picked up at 0530 by taxi. It was the same driver that we had already met. We meandered our way a little further back up the west coast than we reached in yesterday’s trip to our next meeting point. You could feel the sun was rising, although we couldn’t see it yet. As each minute passed, the darkness that we experienced as we set off began to dissipate. There is something truly magical about watching or being awake for the sunrise. A glorious sunrise is spellbinding and often captivating It is certainly a great start to a new day and gives a chance to reflect and be grateful for another day. It provides inspiration to live for the day.

The sun was rising behind the mountains that covered the terrain on this part of the island. We arrived at the former fishing location of Tamarind Bay. The fishing economy having long gone, this was now a tourist hub for watersports. Laying peacefully in the bay were jet boats that would take tourists out onto the crystal-clear waters in sporting pursuit of mother nature. Our day was going to be by paddle power. We ignored the boats as we left our activity centre carrying our sea kayak. Tired though we were, we were both excited and invigorated by this new holiday hobby we had embraced. This day was a stark contrast to the first time I booked Hannah onto such an activity in California. We made our way to the water’s edge. We waited for another couple to join us and for our guide. The beach wasn’t as clean as the one at our hotel. There was more seaweed here. We put our toes in the sea to get used to its temperature whilst a couple of local dogs ran merrily around the beach chasing each other. Such energy for first thing in the morning and a reminder of what we had left behind in England.

Our guide arrived, not with a kayak but a paddle board along with the other couple. We quickly established that they were French, and our poor guide was going to have to speak in both English and French as both couples weren’t strong enough in a second language. We had a quick lesson / recap on how to kayak and the importance of working together in unison, before pushing in the kayaks and jumping on. Someone had made a joke that kayaking can be the grounds of serious disagreements that tests the strength of a relationship!! This may have been true the first time we tried this out but this time we were quietly confident of our ability to have a good time. As we left the shoreline the sun was just peeping up over the mountains to say hello. The sun rose higher with each stroke, to keep us very warm.

We paddled our way out to the entrance of the bay, on what must be said were very calm waters. To our left was the mountain (Le Morne Brabrant) that we had climbed the previous day and to our right was the start of one of the island’s famous coast lines called Flic en Flac. Behind us, I believe, were the mountains called Trois Mamelles (literal French translation – 3 udders) and Rempart (French for fortification).

The main reason for kayaking out here was that this was a renowned feeding ground for the local dolphins. They must have known that we were coming and decided that other local bays would be more appealing than showing us their playful nature. We waited patiently bobbing up and down on the ocean. We shared stories with our guide, who was also a big fan of Italy. Today wasn’t our day – the other bays must have been preferred – and our guide suggested instead that we return to the shore and picked up the river that flowed into the bay and kayak upstream. We all agreed and turned and headed for land. I must confess that I couldn’t see where we had started so we had to have full trust in our guide that we were paddling in the right direction. By now the sunshine was there but a stiff morning breeze was blowing the wrong way for us. We certainly had to power our way back to the shore.

Upon arrival, we climbed out of our crafts and dragged them through the very shallow mouth of the river. It was noticeable how quickly the water colour changed from the ocean blue to the brown and murky river. Once we cleared the shallow water we jumped back in the kayaks and made our way upstream of the Rivière du Rempart. This was one of two rivers that converged at the shoreline with the other being the Rivière Tamarin. It so happened that we were to explore more of this river on the next day on our third outing (watch out for the blog on this).

Back to our exploration of the river Rempart we noted that there were large houses belonging to wealthy people that were dotted on one side of the riverbank as we set off up stream. Every now and again a deafening noise of birds or local building works would disrupt the solitude. As we passed the final house our guide was quick to point out that this was one of the most important house on the island. It belonged to the head of the Christian church of Mauritius. A beautiful red roof rested on the arches surrounding the outer porch. There were well-maintained lawns. Through these arches a cross with Jesus on was clearly visible.

It was here that we left civilization and went more into an overgrown area. I was expecting Tarzan to swing in front of us as we ducked low level tree branches. We swerved around the low level rocks. Our guide informed us this was a place that he would come to escape, chill and relax. How true this is I will never know but it certainly wasn’t a place for us as we would have been eaten alive by the mossies. So, we thankfully turned the kayak around before we retraced our steps (sorry I mean strokes) back to the confluence of the two rivers with the sea. It was here that I was becoming fascinated with a local bird a ‘striated heron’, I believe. They were everywhere you looked.

Sadly, our time on the kayak had come to an end, which was good job as we were now both starting to feel rather hungry, and the mossies were certainly getting well fed on us. These early morning starts are great, but they mean missing breakfast at the hotel!! On a positive note, the early start means that one is back in time to spend the rest of the day lounging around, which isn’t a bad thing.

Watch out for our next adventure as we combine the water and the hiking.

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Mauritian Mountain

We had arrived in Mauritius, the destination of our honeymoon. Our route involved a stopover in Nairobi. Getting out of Nairobi airport was an experience that I wouldn’t wish upon any traveller. Our residence for the next 14 nights was the very impressive Heritage Awali Golf resort and Spa in the Bel Ombre and South western corner of the island.

   

Every morning, we would walk along the beach after breakfast. It felt good to at least stretch our legs before finding a suitable location to lay down and rest for the day (even the local stray dog would do the same). Lying there we would look out on the beach and enjoy the same view each day. The wind would push the clouds every now and again and bring with it the odd outbreak of rain (we somehow managed to miss a passing cyclone). Ignore this threat of bad weather and picture a postcard, if you will. At the forefront are white sandy beaches, beautiful tall palm trees, and the backdrop is the ocean. The ocean was a fascinating two-tone colour highlighting the coral reef with which the bay was associated. Resting completely soulless on the water were a few boats. They looked somewhat as we felt – calm and relaxed and, I dream here, like us enjoying the fact they had nothing to do. The holiday vibes are encapsulated in this one view – a total escape from the mundane life back home. In the far distance, when the cloud and rain didn’t hide it, you could just make out the top of a mountain. The name of that mountain was Le Morne Brabant with its apex just peeking above the trees. How many people were blissfully unaware of its existence in our hotel I wonder?

A book was enjoyed, along with a couple of beverages, conversations were had, and new acquaintances were made. Life felt good, but something was missing. We’re not ones to easily sit still and there was an itch that was getting bigger as the days went on. We wanted to escape that zen and explore and learn about this island that we had chosen as a honeymoon destination. We had taken the hotel bikes out for an exploratory trip along the coast in an easterly direction the day before. This had whetted the appetite.

     

I found a local company (Yanature) with which to book a guided tour of Le Morne Brabant, completely unaware of the mountain’s significance to the island’s history. The tour was booked as we love walking, and the mountain was close by and registered as easy/medium difficulty. A couple of nights before our planned ascent we sat around a fire as entertainers breathed fire, sang songs and beat the drums. We had made friends with another honeymoon couple who were going to complete the hike the next morning. We duly met up with them the following evening to listen to tales of their adventures. It became apparent that our guide was going to be essential and that this wasn’t going to be “walk/hike” as we thought it might have been. Their tales certainly worried Hannah and me. How much we slept, I do not know; I certainly lay in bed contemplating the fear and stress for I had managed to sign up and take Hannah as well.

We woke bright and early. I say ‘bright’ loosely; it was still fairly dark at this point. The rest of the hotel was certainly sleeping as we made our way through the hotel for our 0515 taxi pick up. The taxi driver very kindly drove us to a deserted shopping mall where we were to meet our guide. Our taxi guide shared stories about how he had climbed it along with most of the locals. Our guide (Rowin) arrived a little later than us, then we followed him to our parking point. We got out of the cars, completed the introductions and signed the waiver. We then left the parking area and started making our way into a wooded area and onto a track which led us up the ‘mountain’. When I think of mountain I think of something in excess of 1000m high. The highest point on this trip was to be 500m, 56m short of the summit!! Sounded easy!!

    

The early stages provided us with great shelter from the rising sun. Every now and again there was a gap in the local flora and beautiful views of the lagoon we had left behind were seen. At about the halfway stage on the ascent we took rest on a couple of benches. Bins overflowing caused Rowin to express his anger. It was here that we left the walking we envisaged it might have been to the top and started climbing! As we approached the technical section there didn’t appear to be an obvious route to the top. Rowin (who runs up and down the mountain for fun!) clearly knew which way to go. For an experienced climber this second part of the ascent would have seemed easy. We, however, were tourists. Rowin began to realise that we were proper tourists with a lack of hiking/climbing experience!! We both had a steely level of determination to reach the top and thoughts of nothing else would be contemplated. We crawled and climbed our way up the first section, Rowin directing our hands and feet movements. I believe at this point Hannah informed the Rowin that she wasn’t good with heights. I appeared to be fine with all this, which was surprising when you consider I had struggled up the Eiffel tower and the Golden Gate bridge and Hannah had loved both experiences. What we didn’t realise was that we were following in the footsteps of Maroons (this was called the slave route). The island has no natives. Most people were brought to the island through the slave trade. These people managed to escape the sugar plantations and slavery and used the mountain and trees to hide/live from their masters. When the soldiers/masters came up the mountain looking for them, some decided that rather than be caught they would jump off the mountain and die rather than be recaptured.

After completing the first technical section we arrived at a pinch point. This was an exposed area of the mountain where the views where incredible and on both sides of the mountain. On the one side was the view of the lagoon, and on the other side a view of the west coast of Mauritius with Benitiers island standing out (I mention this as we visited this island later in the trip and this is going to be the subject of another blog). We enjoyed the views and we could even see an eagle flying. I must admit to not wanting to look at it and purely focus on completing the last and stressful part. Rowin made a joke with Hannah that when we reached the top he would make the phone call for the helicopter to come and collect us. She looked at him with a sense of true optimism, but, alas, he was trying to provide some kind of joke and some added fun to the experience.

 

We waited for a group to descend before we took off for the final climb. It was short and sharp. Hands and feet were both essential to complete the climb. We zigzagged our way to the top. A white cross a sign of reaching the top. We collapsed on the floor and took stock for a while before we slowly grew some courage to take some pictures. Upon completing the formalities, we turned to realise that what must go up must come down. There was going to be no helicopter to provide us with an easily way out. Rowin led the way, helping Hannah with every step of the way. The short sharp final section completed we stopped so I could take a few more pictures before we started the long descent of the technical part. We crabbed on front and back as we descended the steep staircase. Rowin expertly providing us with the exact locations to put our hands and feet. At times he would stop us to help both individuals and couples who had attempted to tackle the climb on their own without a guide. They looked even more touristy than we did. One certainly felt without Rowin we would not have made it. After what seemed like an age, we made it on to solid ground. No longer did we need to use our hands as much as our feet. We retraced our steps back along the path through the trees and back to the car. We thanked Rowin; he had been superb. He very kindly informed us that we would be seeing him again on another adventure we had booked with the company. This was great and reassuring to hear. We jumped back in our taxi and returned to the hotel before noon. After a quick shower and a return to our beach wear, we made our way back to that postcard view. This time though we had a story to share, a sense of achievement, which meant the drinks were more of a reward than a mere social lubricant.