2nd March 2016

Sue’s alarm jolted us both out of a deep sleep, and there was definite reluctance to leave the warmth of the bed this morning. After a hushed discussion, we agreed that by 8:30 a.m., the dining room would be relatively quiet, with no queues for the hot plates. Best of all, we’d have our pick of seating, away from others, and that sealed the deal.

I gave the traditional fry-up a go, bacon, sausage, beans, and the like, but it seems I’ve developed a taste for continental breakfasts. I found myself gravitating towards the bread, meats, and cheeses like a seasoned Francophile.

At reception, we asked for recommendations on where to explore today, and after some thoughtful suggestions, we had our plan. We’d traverse the island from the northeast to the southwest, a long day ahead, but one we were eager to embrace.

The weather was glorious, and thankfully, we’re nearly acclimatised to the heat, though the humidity remains a bit of a challenge. Thankfully, the car’s air conditioning keeps it manageable. Our first stop was Curepipe, right in the heart of the island. As always, we couldn’t resist pulling over whenever something caught our eye, and with a Hindu festival in full swing, there was no shortage of sights.

Every little settlement we passed was adorned with brightly coloured bunting and posters. The locals, dressed in their finest and most vibrant attire, bustled about, making their way to pay homage to one deity or another.

Our first stop was a serene lake, where we paid homage, by taking photos, to a stunning Shiva statue perched on the bank. It seemed the deity was well-fed, with an abundance of food offerings laid at his feet.

Next, we ventured to a waterfall tucked away down a winding lane. We parked near a small Hindu temple, where the caretaker kindly offered to guide us through a sugarcane field to the edge of a ravine. From there, a narrow path led steeply downwards. After a quick discussion, we decided it was best for Sue’s delicate bones to skip the descent, so she headed back to the car while I followed our guide into the gorge. I was somewhat reassured by the thought that if I slipped, I’d at least have a soft landing on him.

The cascades weren’t the tallest or most dramatic we’d ever seen, but their secluded setting made them quite special. Naturally, I took plenty of photos. Just as we crossed to the opposite bank for a better view, the skies opened, and rain began to fall. That was our cue to head back up the cliff, a trek made more exciting by the distinct absence of health and safety measures that we’re so accustomed to in Europe.

When we returned, Sue had been exploring the temple grounds and seemed genuinely relieved to see us emerge from the misty gorge.

We continued our ascent through the rugged volcanic landscape, with the showers becoming more frequent as we climbed higher. Looking down towards the coast, we could see they were basking in yet another sunny day, a stark contrast to the mist and drizzle surrounding us.

When we arrived at Grand Bassin, we were surprised to find it home to two colossal Hindu deities, standing guard over the sacred lake. We had thought we were heading towards the crater of an ancient volcano, but instead, we found ourselves amidst a spiritual landmark. Naturally, we stopped, took photos, and, of course, got thoroughly soaked.

Moving on, we stumbled upon a breathtaking view of the Black River Gorges. The sheer depth and vastness of the gorges were mesmerising; only photos could truly capture their scale. We were also treated to the sight of fruit bats gracefully circling below us, a rare perspective. Earlier, I’d snapped a shot of them hanging upside down from the telegraph lines along the road.

The area was teeming with monkeys, and Sue quickly became the centre of their attention when she offered a banana to a mother carrying her baby. The scene turned comical when a particularly cheeky little monkey decided to chase a towering tourist, easily 6 feet 6 inches tall, down the path. His panicked retreat had me in stitches!

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A little further along, we stopped at another set of waterfalls, which were much easier to access, allowing Sue to enjoy them too. After a leisurely stroll, we returned to the car, where we bought a fresh coconut and pineapple from a roadside vendor. We devoured them with gusto, sitting in the car and sheltering from yet another passing shower.

As we began our descent from the mountain range, we spotted a restaurant perched on the edge of a cliff. It looked promising for some spectacular views, so we decided to stop. By this time, the sun had broken through and seemed determined to stay, illuminating the landscape in all its glory. The views were indeed magnificent, but what truly caught our attention was the wedding taking place.

The couple, Russian by the sounds of their toasts, had chosen the perfect backdrop for their wedding album. Their photographer was in his element; every shot seemed destined to be stunning. In my enthusiasm, I found myself inadvertently capturing a few candid snaps of the happy couple. Unfortunately, I was soon politely asked to step out of the frame, lest I incur the wrath of their entourage. I quickly obliged, joking to myself that my photos would probably not rival those of professionals.

Further down the mountain, we stumbled upon the Cascades, yes, yet another waterfall, but this one truly stood out. With a thunderous roar and an impressive volume of water plunging from a great height, it was the quintessential waterfall, the kind that demanded attention long before it came into view. You could hear its powerful rush from half a mile away.

From there, we made our way to the famed ‘Seven Coloured Earths’. This natural phenomenon is unlike anything else, a patch of forest stripped bare, revealing a surreal landscape of soil in vibrant, shifting hues. Instead of the usual dull brown, the ground displayed a spectrum of reds, purples, and yellows. It was fascinating and definitely worth the visit.

While there, we also stopped by the enclosure of giant tortoises, slow-moving relics of a prehistoric past. Before leaving, we popped into the on-site tourist shop, which, to our surprise, wasn’t selling jars of the coloured earth. Instead, they offered an assortment of soaps and spices, a curious but certainly tourist-tempting selection.

With the GPS set for our hotel, we began our journey back. What should have been a straightforward drive took nearly two hours, thanks to the ongoing Hindu festival. Each village we passed through became a slow, winding challenge, as we had to navigate around exuberant youths energetically pushing their brightly coloured, and often absurdly constructed, deities down the main road on all manner of homemade platforms. In one particularly memorable instance, the deity was paraded in a wheeled rubbish skip. Make of that what you will!

We finally arrived back at our room around 6:30 p.m., only to discover an invitation to the manager’s party, starting at, you guessed it, 6:30 p.m. Hastily freshening up, we headed down to the beachside arena where champagne and canapés were being served as the management delivered their speeches. It was a pleasant diversion.

Afterwards, we returned to our room to change for dinner. We ventured out to a nearby restaurant and, in honour of the local festivities, ordered two curries. They were delicious and fitting for the occasion.

Back at the hotel by 9 p.m., we settled in for the evening entertainment: a troupe of Hindu dancers. They were superb, their movements precise and graceful, and their costumes brilliantly exotic. Having seen similar performances over the years, we could appreciate their skill and professionalism. The applause they received was well deserved.