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| Fantasy island |
31-Aug-2005 |
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TRAVEL by Belinda Jackson.
THE air is thick with incense and humidity as a parade of young men march past — cheeks, lips, stomachs and chests skewered with hooks and barbs. On their shoulders, they balance massive shrines decked with flowers and palm fronds, their faces masks of intense concentration. It is the spectacle of Thaipoosam Cavadee, an annual Tamil festival worshipping the Son of Shiva, on the island of Mauritius.
At just 61km long and 46km wide, smaller than the ACT, this tiny land mass off the east coast of Africa is host to a blur of cultures. Its population of 1.2 million derive from European colonialists, African slaves, Chinese traders and a migratory wave from the sub-continent at the turn of the last century.
From the crumbling British-built Fort Adelaide, perched on the hills overlooking the capital, Port Louis, you can spy a Buddhist temple, Catholic cathedral, Chinese pagoda, Tamil curlicues and Muslim spires.
The food is similarly eclectic: snack from a hole in the wall serving halal biryani and curry, sip a cheeky Côte du Rhone wine or order a palm heart salad. The island’s culinary specialties are the distinctly tropical vanilla rum and smoked marlin.
Amid this hubbub of humanity, you’re still 1000km to the nearest significant land mass, Madagascar, on an isolated outpost that counts just nearby Réunion and the more distant Seychelles among its few neighbours.
It is surrounded by coral reefs, so the elegant curls of beach open out to calm, azure lagoons, and there is nothing on the horizon save the rising and setting sun.
Mauritius’ history reads like a scene from a Boy’s Own annual: pirates, slavery, rum and Hemingway-style big game fishing. The tiny island was completely deserted (except for the dodo and other long-since extinct creatures) before being colonised in the 15th century by European sailors combing the region for unclaimed land.
Ultimately, the French won. While the locals may gossip in racing Creole that is a blur to new listeners, French is the language of choice between the locals and tourists. But Mauritians will switch to English in a flash. They also drive on the left, another legacy left by the Brits before independence in 1968.
With its swaying palm trees and tranquil azure lagoons, Mauritius is the postcard-perfect picture of an island idyll. A piece of advice? Put yourself in the picture.
FACTFILE:
Getting there: Air Mauritius flies weekly to the island. Phone 1300 658 572.
Where to stay: Beachcomber Hotels has eight hotels (phone 1800 624 628, web site www.beachcomber.com.au) on the island, ranging from 3.5 stars to their luxury 5+ star hotel, Royal Palm. Guests can book a seven-day package, moving between hotels.
When to go: Any time outside January to March, which is Mauritius’ rainy season.
Ms Jackson travelled to Mauritius as a guest of Beachcomber Hotels.
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