15 November 2010
My first impression of this place is, “Phew at least I am still in Africa, or is it India?”. Shaev my friendly taxi driver takes me on the back route winding in and out of villages and towns. Proudly pointing out some of the agriculture whether commercial or subsistence as if it was owned by his family. We pass the end procession of a Hindu wedding just glimpsing the red and gold riches of the bride’s gown. He takes a quick phonecall and I strain my ears to decipher the brisk Creole that spills into the blustery breeze blowing through our open windows. Passing colourful temples and busy streets I am happy to take it all in.
On arrival I wander down to the beach only to be met with a setting made for postcards and I soon discover that dead broken coral is not pleasant under bare feet. The colours on the streets in La Preneuse, Black River are filled with spilling Bougainvilleas and Hibiscus trees and I realise that the Earth truly smiles in flowers.
A long hike along the coastline to the turquoise waters of Tamarin Bay and I float like a suspended star fish in salty, warm water. The shady edges of the beach provide welcome relief from the scalding sand and sun and I take a moment to watch the scenery. Mountains frame the beaches here and rise up majestically in the distance. I venture over to the street side vendors and get a plate of noodles and dumplings which tastes of peanuts and spring onions with beef and ginger. I can’t get through it all so I finish up and head back home with a full stomach and a saltiness on my skin. I just want to spend my days in the water.
