Escaping the Winter

At last, the wait was over and we could escape the gloomy weather. With three decades of youth and all-nighters already behind us, we could not really sleep during the overnight flight. We were probably too excited. We landed on Mahé at sunrise, greeted by beautiful colours and a roaring sea of clouds below us.

We knew it was the rainy season and thought the first day might be a little overcast, but we could not have been more wrong. A hot, sunny day awaited us at the small airport right by the sea. Sunscreen needed to be kept close at hand, as an elegant European pallor can otherwise easily turn lobster red.

After a friendly passport check and a warm welcome from the Creole Agency transfer company, we had three hours before the ferry to Praslin departed, giving us time to explore the compact capital, Victoria. A short walk took us straight into the centre, where we immediately enjoyed the fascinating Sir Selwyn Selwyn Clarke Market, with its large fish, fresh fruit and wonderful spice stalls. The Seychellois were not at all pushy, but rather displayed a quiet pride. Everyone grows up speaking three languages – Creole, French and English. Travelling the wider world had never felt so easy.

We were grateful for SeyVillas’ excellent tip to book the upper deck on the super-fast catamaran ferry. For us, it was pure joy and had us cheering like children, although others unfortunately suffered from seasickness. On arrival in Praslin, we were once again warmly welcomed and immediately driven to our lovely guesthouse, Villa Bananier at Cotè dór. Although we had only paid for standard rooms, we were given superior rooms – Wi-Fi included. The beach and warm sea made us forget our tiredness straight away. That very evening, we enjoyed a delicious dinner at the guesthouse. Prices are comparable to Europe, although alcohol is more expensive.

Palm tree walk After 36 hours, we drifted into a dream-filled sleep and enjoyed underwater and above-water worlds that could hardly have been more beautiful. Praslin is wonderful – palm jungle, Creole cuisine and worthwhile bus rides that never cost more than 5 rupees, or around 40 cents. Start the morning with a sun salutation and the whole day simply flows. We took the bus straight to the Vallée de Mai, the island’s only primeval forest, where we enjoyed an interesting guided tour and saw the famous Coco de Mer nut.

Vallée de Mai Vallée de Mai The next day, we wanted to visit the island’s most beautiful beach, Anse Lazio. As the bus only ran once an hour, we had some time to reflect. Then a small Polo pulled up, driven by a man my age, who asked whether we were going to Lazio or Zimbabwe. ‘To Lazio,’ I said, immediately asking how much it would cost. He merely shook his head. He was the head of security, spoke five languages, had been married three times, was a committed democrat, had 5 children and 6 grandchildren, and knew what he was talking about. We were the same age and on the same wavelength. We talked about equality between women and men and how important it is to speak to one another. The Seychellois seem to absorb the ability to nurture love with their mother’s milk, while some Europeans quietly get on each other’s nerves.
I love this small country, which radiates so much wisdom and clarity. He drove us all the way to the beach. We were both born in 1959 – a vintage of the millennium, as we agreed. His name was Napoleon.

The beach was extraordinary! Body surfing for up to 30 m, clear water, shady spots, granite boulders that looked as though they had been painted and a wonderfully idyllic atmosphere. That feeling never seemed to fade. We found ourselves grinning constantly and could hardly believe we were not dreaming.

The following day, we wanted to go snorkelling and had chosen what appeared to be a calm beach to escape the rough waves. However, we took the wrong bus and ended up at the ferry terminal. A taxi driver there explained that the beach was not very good and drove us to a secluded, peaceful beach with a reef and ideal waters for snorkelling. He also asked whether we had brought provisions, as the bus only ran every two to three hours. We saw enchanting, colourful fish there. That afternoon, we did indeed have a long wait, which we passed by reading aloud to one another.

On 9 February, we continued to the island of La Digue, known for cycling and its exceptionally beautiful beaches. For our anniversary, we had booked a wonderful place to stay – Villa Creole, right by the sea. Once again, the pick-up and transfer went perfectly and exactly according to plan. First, we simply settled in, went for a swim, read aloud to one another and enjoyed an overwhelming sense of love, relaxation and simply being.

On our first evening, we picked up an inexpensive takeaway and some wine from the nearby small supermarket. We then shared our food with some peaceful dogs on the beach. By candlelight, we sat on the terrace and enjoyed an hour-long downpour in temperatures of 27°C. Here, old irritations can simply dissolve into clarity. The next day, we cycled across the island to Grand Anse, passing the Jardin Du Roi spice garden and tortoise park. The animals’ enclosure, surrounded by a low wall, lay around a huge granite boulder. The giants, some more than 100 years old, looked rather sad, although that was only my own impression.

Grand Anse Giant tortoise We passed vanilla plants and spice beds before soon arriving at Anse Source d´Argent. On the other side of the island, there are kilometres of fine sandy beach, hardly any people and excellent snorkelling conditions. From there, a small mountain path leads through the jungle to Petite Anse and then onwards to Anse de Cocos. The beauty was overwhelming. Each beach was lovelier than the last. Unfortunately, we strayed a little from the actual path, but eventually reached the right beach. Every trip needs a little adventure. At Anse Cocos, which we thought was the most beautiful beach of all, there is a calm lagoon on the left-hand side, full of colourful fish.

Petite Anse On the way back, I realised that I had left my flippers behind. As it was already getting dark, however, I had to abandon them. That evening, we had ordered the house menu. We could never have imagined such a wonderfully abundant, beautifully presented and delicious meal. Yvette is a marvellous cook. We did not need to visit a restaurant for three days, as we could simply keep the leftovers in the fridge for later.

Dinner Walking around the northern part of the small island at low tide in the warm rain did not seem quite as spectacular to us, but reading aloud beneath a rock during the relentless downpour still made it an unforgettable day.

Our final stop was Mahé. At the ferry terminal, a young traveller we had met came over and handed me the flippers I had lost several days earlier. I was deeply touched and delighted. From then on, Max and Helene had a place in my book, where I record encounters with remarkable, kind-hearted people.

The sea showed us a completely different side on the return journey from La Digue via Praslin to Mahé. It was as calm as a lake, and the ferry sped across the gentle ocean. Dolphins appeared, flying fish darted above the surface and a giant tortoise basked in the sun. Everything seemed to be aligned in our favour.

Mahé is busier and more touristy than the other islands. However, we had chosen a peaceful guesthouse a little further away, and once again had a beach for snorkelling almost entirely to ourselves. At Divers Lodge, we were offered the more expensive upper-floor apartment at no extra charge, as well as the best breakfast, prepared by two genuinely lovely young women from Nepal.

On 15 March, there was a market at Beau Vallon with delicious food and drinks – every imaginable variety of curry, tuna pancakes and flavoursome Creole cocktails with real depth. Traditional Creole music with drums and singing was playing when a sudden rain shower brought everyone closer together beneath the stalls’ small awnings. As soon as the rain stopped, the party continued. Naturally, we ran into the lovely German couple again. We felt safe and almost at home. We soon began to think there could be no more relaxing country in which to forget everyday life for a while. It deserves the utmost respect.

Christine and Klaus, writing from paradise.
Bon voyage.