ROAD TRIP THE ART OF ENCOUNTER 26 estate? Or after the freshwater fish, which does not even live in the waters of Mauritius? It’s a mystery. All that’s left is the “Chateau” – a magnificent colonial residence with a French-style garden – built by an Indian nabob who never came to visit it. When it comes to history, the Baie de Jacotet no longer remembers the sunken ships or how the battle of Grand-Port began. The bay now belongs to the kite surfers, as does Îlot Sancho, whose only treasure is the endemic fruit bushes that produce Jacquot apples. The rolling of the drums of war has been replaced by the washing of the sea on the polished pebbles of Rivière des Galets beach and by the roaring of the ocean waves, undisturbed by coral reefs. In Gris-Gris (a name that evokes old voodoo practices), the land belongs to the ocean. The rugged coastline battles to fend off the ocean’s attacks. Climb to the summit of Macondé Rock to observe the unfettered coupling of the elements and the creation of wind trails across the water. IN THE SHADOW OF THE POET Finally, you arrive at the gem of the south, Souillac (named after the late 18th-century governor general). The Telfair Gardens (where Malcolm de Chazal was said to have found the creative inspiration for the ending of his cult novel, Petrusmok), located above a golden cove where enormous banyan trees provide shade for lovers, are somewhere to visit time and again. On a volcanic outcrop opposite, the Marine Cemetery is full of flowers and crumbling graves. Among them is the tomb of the poet Robert E. Hart whose epitaph ends: “Here I lie. My whole heart is betrothed to your sky.” He lived for many years in a simple coral house called La Nef (the Nave) that provided him with shelter and living inspiration for his poetry. Out on his small terrace facing the ocean, his poem “Nostalgias” comes to life: “All the dreams of Asia/ all the perfumes of Africa,/ all the fanciful poetry/ come to me this evening on the Indian Ocean breeze.” Even nature pays tribute to him. The sea appears to have sculpted his image in La Roche qui Pleure (Weeping Rock). Before heading across the parched plains of Savanne, the road hugs for one last time the untameable master of this place: the ocean, which has preserved the area from all human construction. Although it hasn’t stopped nature from creating the Pont Naturel, a natural bridge carved out of the rock, suspended above the waves. IN THE SOUTHERN TERRITORIES Grand Bassin, of course, filled with holywater fromtheGanges for the Hindus. Chamarel, a pilgrimage destination for Catholics on St Anne’s Day, with its multicoloured volcanic earth dunes and 100-metre high waterfall. But most of all, early in the morning, in the company of the coqs des bois (so named because these birds wake the entire forest), contemplating daybreak from the Black River Gorges, the silence enveloping the sweeping mountains that extend far out on the horizon. Bois Chéri, the fields of tea, the family-run factory, the morning harvest, the women carefully selecting the leaves, plucking only the three youngest ones on each plant. Meeting Azad, 59, who has spent his life working in the factory (employed to pack the loose tea at the age of fourteen, he is now director of public relations), and will leave his two children the gift of “a town and a future.” And then, way after Rochester Falls which are forever sculpting minimalist steles from black basalt, the road to L’Escalier crosses the old railway bridge. Only sugarcaneladen trucks leave tracks in the dust. No one stops here, apart from a few stray dogs. But rarely has nature offered such a sumptuous Premila runs the little Cajun and Creole restaurant, La Marmite, in Chamarel. Premila tient le petit restaurant cajun et créole, La Marmite, à Chamarel.
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