Beachcomber Magazine 04
life. Children emerge from the huts in their school uniforms, the first square of ochre canvas sets sail round the cape La Négresse. The village boasts a hospital, a church, a Hindu temple, a whole host of altars and, as ever, plenty of fishermen. Half-submerged in the water, out in their small boats or along the seashore, fishing with lines, nets or pots, spearing octopus or gathering shellfish. “ Very few tourists come to this part of the coast ”, says the woman in charge of the small Anglican chapel on Paul & Virginie Road. In Bras d’Eau, the sun is already high, its rays piercing through the trees in the national park: monkey puzzle, acacia, mahogany, candlenut and sandragon. Mario, a forest ranger knows the forest and its ghosts. In the ruins of a former sugar mill ROAD TRIP BEAUTIFUL MAURITIUS 22 (abandoned when the region was devastated by the malaria epidemic in the 19 th century) and next to the remains of what was “ the first railway, the Northern line in 1864 ”, Mario says: “ Can you see the camp? Can you imagine the coolies? Can you hear the noise of the locomotive? ” – Yes. Bras d’Eau is suddenly full of people and Mario is a magician. TRAWLERS AND EASTERLY WINDS The sights as we travel along the road are breathtaking. La Pointe des Lascars, Poste Lafayette. To our left, the lagoon breathes in sync with the tides, protected from the eternally crashing open seas by a coral reef. The easterly wind never ceases. The villages huddle together alongside the single coastal road beneath the mountain range. It is on this road that locals meet, exchange news, stare out at the horizon to predict the weather patterns. We are given a warm welcome by these people who are a little surprised to see us here. Roches Noires. A panoramic view- point framed by two white coves with wide flat rocks projecting out to sea. An old man is preparing his bait of crushed shellfish to fish “ enn ti kari poson lakaz ” – “ a home-made fish curry ”, for lunch or dinner, whenever he returns home. Nothing is urgent. There is plenty of time, life is gentle and calm. The large village on this side of the coast is not far away now. Trou d’Eau Douce, halfway between Poudre d’Or and Mahebourg. This is where the tourist boats leave for the île aux Cerfs (Deer Island), former paradise island of the pirate John Bowen. The village is built on the lava slope down to the jetty. Under the flat foliage of an Indian almond tree, a brackish pool, altars draped in flowers and as always a few fishermen unmoving on the shore. It’s the village of the writer Barlen Pyamootoo, whose handful of works are written in a restrained style, except when it comes to defending his friends the fishermen, “the resistance,” as he calls them. Like Rohit, who at the age of 14 swapped the sugarcane fields for the sea. “ Alone in my pirogue, the fight against the seine-haul fishermen and the big Japanese boats that drag the 5. The bell tower of Sainte- Philomène church in Poudre d’Or looks out over the pineapple and sugarcane fields. 6. L’île aux Cerfs (Deer Island), off the coast of Trou d’Eau Douce. 7. Bras d’Eau, a former sugar estate purchased by the state in 1901, was made a National Park in 2011. 5. Le clocher de l’église de Sainte- Philomène à Poudre d’Or veille sur les champs d’ananas et de cannes. 6. L’Île aux Cerfs, au large de Trou d’Eau Douce. 7. Ancien domaine sucrier racheté par l’État en 1901, Bras d’Eau acquiert en 2011 le statut de Parc naturel national. 5
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