Ten out of the last eleven days have been spent at sea between South Africa, and our next port, India. William losing his second front tooth offered a bit of excitement.
That talented tooth fairy managed to find her way to cabin 4062 for the second time in a week AND leave some American coins.
Our one lone day on land, we docked on the island of Mauritius. I’d never even heard of this little speck of an island until I learned of our itinerary. Mauritius, one of three miniature islands in the Mascarene Archipelago in the Indian Ocean, lies several hundred miles east of Madagascar. We barely scratched the surface in the mere seven hours we had in Mauritius. This was the first time we’ve spent only one day in a port, and suffice to say, we’ve been spoiled with our extended stays. We all felt a little gypped with our brief layover!
Mauritius resembles Hawaii with a lush, tropical setting. Its jagged volcanic peaks soar over coastal plains smothered in sugarcane leaves, waving like long green ribbons in the breeze. Originally settled by the Dutch, taken over by the French and later the British, it’s been independent since 1968. The official language is English, but most Mauritians are more comfortable speaking French. All the signage and literature we encountered was in both English and French.
We didn’t have an ambitious agenda except to experience one of its beautiful beaches. The ship docked outside of Port Louis, the main metropolis on the island. A spirited group of Mauritian dancers welcomed us as we walked off the gangway. 
We didn’t make it into the city, but it looked more major than I expected, with a skyline of tall buildings. Rumor had it that taxi drivers in Mauritius have a reputation for being sharks, and the importance of negotiating the fare before getting in the car. Luckily our preport lecture on the ship provided useful information about price ranges, etc.
The first taxi drivers we encountered off the ship badgered us for an all day commitment, rattling off all the extra places they could take us to, and insisted on a ridiculously steep fare. So we kept walking another 200 meters down the dirt road until found the main thoroughfare. We’d heard Mauritius was celebrating a Hindu festival with parades and extra traffic could clog the streets and highways. More taxi drivers lurked about, but we met Nishal, who had an easy-going and helpful approach. Realizing it would be safer than worrying about catching a ride back on time, we decided ultimately decided to hire him for the day and negotiated a fair price.
Our plan was to hang out at Flic en Flac, the closest public beach to Port Louis, but we weren’t sure exactly how far away it was. Nishal convinced us in his laid-back manner to “check out” Casela Nature & Leisure Park, which was on the way to Flic en Flac. “The kids will like it. You go look, and if it looks good, you stay. If you don’t like it, I will take you to Flic en Flac now.” We checked it out, it looked good, so Nishal waited in the parking lot for an hour and half while we explored the park.
Casela boasted a animal park/zoo, zipline adventure, and quad mini safari. We kept it simple and wandered through the shady zoo, and of course let the kids romp on the awesome playground.
We saw lots of exotic birds, lemurs, kangaroos, and tortoises of all sizes. Yep, tortoises! We could walk around the grassy, open space where several giant tortoises lounged in the mud or plodded their way across the ground. Touching Torty’s shell was the highlight of the morning!
True to his word, Nishal delivered us to Flic en Flac, offered some lunch recommendations, and arranged to pick us up at 4:30. We ate outside at a little Chinese eatery (I’ll give you one guess what the kids ordered) that far surpassed any American Chinese food I’ve ever eaten. 
The waitress brought coasters for our drinks and set them on top of our glasses. I naturally put it beneath mine but she put it back and informed me it was because of the bugs. Sure enough, before the end of our meal, the flies were swarming. Mauritius proved to be the buggiest place we’ve visited since the Amazon River, and Vivian and I sported the bites to show for it!
All we had to do was cross the street and roll out our beach towels. Flic en Flac exuded a down-to-earth, mellow vibe; it seemed like mostly locals were hanging out on this Sunday afternoon.
We notice a couple of large, Coleman-esque, tents, (where I guess people had camped the night before), families enjoying picnics, and teenagers casually kicking around the soccer ball. Between the street and the sand, towering filao trees offered shady respite from the intense sun.
Filao trees are some sort of evergreen with needles that resemble pine needles. And they’re sharp, as I learned when I tried to play Frisbee barefoot! Bordering the trees was a strip of Bermuda grass, which made it a very user-friendly beach.
From my observation post (my towel) I watched the Flic en Flac world go by: to my left, a couple of guys strummed their guitars. Kids, parents, and grandparents swam in the sea. Further down the beach, a jovial gathering danced, chanted and played African drums. The life of a beach bum…it’s delicious.
When we weren’t tossing the Frisbee or examining pieces of bone-white coral, we spent most of our time in the ocean. The coral reef formed a natural lagoon with a very shallow, gradual drop-off, and no waves to speak of! The breakwater was probably a quarter mile out from the shore. William, honest to goodness, swam in the ocean for the first time!
Like the Atlantic in Ghana, the Indian Ocean was comfortably warm. Floating on my back – outside noise muted – weightless on the buoyant salt water – transported me to the ultimate state of relaxation. The ocean cradled me like a hammock for a good bit of the afternoon. However, payback came later that night with a mild sunburn and water spider bites on my legs.
So, there’s my Mauritius minute. It’s doubtful I’ll ever return, given that it’s pretty much on the opposite side of the globe from Oregon, but who knows? It was lovely while it lasted.
Experiential Passage 