Even if you have never heard of Mauritius or are not quite sure where it is, you have probably heard of its most famous bird, the Dodo. Yes, the large hapless, flightless bird extinct since the 17th century is a symbol of the island country. It is on their coat of arms, their currency, their postage, and tourist maps. Yet there is so much more to this crowded tiny island nation.
I was giddy with excitement as C and I headed to the airport to begin our trip to Mauritius. This trip had been long in the making–when some three years before a FS friend of mine learned her second post would be to the island nation. Initially we were to visit our first Christmas in Shanghai but an unexpected addition to KB’s family meant we had to place our trip on hold for another year. But at last it was time for our trip and for the first time in what seemed a very long time I would be etching a new country into my travel belt.
Mauritius might seem a long way to go for vacation and honestly before my friend was posted there I had not given much thought to visiting. Once in Shanghai though it seemed that the former Isle de France was the place to go given the number of billboards advertising Air Mauritius flights around where I lived. On the visa line, even the applicants with little foreign travel might list Mauritius among their international destinations alongside South Korea, Thailand, Vietnam, and the Maldives. It was destiny.
We landed at 7 am. Yes, 7 am. Almost immediately I was given a lesson in island patience. While on the plane, the Air Mauritius flight attendants had given out the immigration landing cards. Unfortunately they did not have enough for everyone on the plane and we were two of the unlucky ones. No problem, the flight attendants assured us, we could get them before immigration. Except they were out too. It was maddening to see almost no line for immigration and yet be unable to do anything because no forms were available. Several of us waylaid an official-looking person but he too seemed perplexed by our situation and asked yet another person to locate the forms. It took about 20 minutes for someone to return with forms in hand and we swarmed around him. He had only 7 to 10 forms and there were more than 10 people waiting. I decided this was not the time to be polite and grabbed two forms from his hand. I filled them out quickly and vowed to not look back at those who were left behind. I had a vacation to get started!
We were picked up at the airport by a driver arranged by KB and then whisked off to the other side of the island, a whole hour and change away. We slept most of the way. Then we arrived at KB’s home and were immediately welcomed by the family. We had an easy day. First KB and I sat by the pool and talked as the kids swam. Then we took the kids to the Beach House Restaurant for lunch. As we drove into Grand Baie and I caught sight of the water for the first time I gasped. Wow. The Beach House is located right on the bay and as we waited for our meal (the service was on island time so we waited quite awhile) the kids frolicked on the beach and in the shallow warm waters. The afternoon involved more play time for the kids and then we attended a birthday party for a local boy.
On our second day KB, myself and the kids drove from the northwest to the southwest (again a whole hour to cross the island!) for a day at the Casela Nature Park, a mix of zoo, petting farm, and activity park. There is quite a lot to do at the park, but much of it, like walking with lions, driving ATVs, riding horses or camels, or ziplining, were for those aged well above 4 or 5 years old and thus not on our agenda. Still, the kids enjoyed watching the 4D movies (well, 2 of the 3 kids did) seeing the birds, feeding the bunnies (not so much the rather aggressive deer), seeing tortoises, feeding the giraffes and playing on the playground. We still managed to spend nearly 5 hours at the zoo (nearly 45 minutes of it in the line for a shuttle bus from the giraffes back to the main park. Major fail.). That evening KB showed us around La Croisette, one of the few true shopping malls in the country sporting one of only two cinemas on the island.
The third day began with KB and I leaving the kids with KB’s extremely amenable husband while she and I indulged in some mommy only massages. We then picked up the kids and headed to Labourdonnais, a 19th century sugar mill and estate restored to a museum, garden, and working orchard. We all had lunch first at a lovely cafe adjacent to the grounds and then KB insisted she would take all the kids through the gardens so I could have an hour of peace to visit the chateau museum. (I am SO grateful) Then after some waiting (with some very impatient small children) we all took the toy train through the orchards. Following the Chateau our next stop was the L’Aventure du Sucre Sugar Museum and Factory. As you may begin to guess sugar production has a long and checkered history in Mauritius. The sweet stuff has been manufactured there since 1696 and remains the country’s second largest export today (after processed fish)! So the history of sugar is intertwined with the island’s history. The museum makes great use of its space in an old sugar factory. Informative displays of sugar’s role in the history and economy of the island wind around actual gears and boilers and the chimney, all part of the production of this important crop.
Our fourth day started with a glass bottom boat adventure in Grand Baie with KB’s husband and the three kids. (KB gets sea sick easily and sat this activity out). Then KB and I escaped again to have a just friends (sans kids) lunch and then we headed to Goodlands for some shopping in a colorful Indian bazaar (the majority ethnic group is Indo-Mauritian, making up 68% of the population) and a visit to the Shipmodels Factory and Museum. We returned in time to collect C for a late afternoon photo shoot on the beach with a talented local photographer and then the whole lot of us had dinner at Luigi’s, reportedly the best Italian restaurant on the island.
The following day we said farewell to KB and her family and we headed back across the island to pick up a rental car at the airport. It was a little hard to find my rental car as I had apparently booked with the one company that does not have an office at the airport (OLA) and I spent 30 minutes wandering around until I found a guy with a sign. We followed him to the parking lot where he did the paperwork in the trunk of the car. But it was a car, it looked good, it had a child seat included, and so I rolled with it. Immediately I was reminded that I would be driving on the left hand side of the road as I backed out of the parking space and ran over the curb. I did manage to get us out of the parking lot and to the hotel, all of a mile away. Once checked in and fed I got us back out on the road and on our way to La Vanille Nature Park.
It was an adventure being on the road with only a basic tourist map with a bunch of squiggly lines that I hoped approximated true roads. We drove through several small towns that presented challenges to driving–two lane roads with no shoulder, no sidewalks, just a couple of feet to the residences and businesses. Along the sides of the road people walked, sometimes two or three abreast, others pedaled old bicycles weaving like drunks, dogs trotted without a care in the world. Buses stopped with little warning and little room to pull over. Delivery trucks and people stopping at stores or to talk to a friend did the same. Every turn I tried to make, I first turned on the windshield wipers. And road signs tended to announce a turn just feet before I needed to make it. It is a wonder I found the park at all!.
I think La Vanille was originally just a crocodile park and then a crocodile and tortoise park and now it is a Nature Park because they added a few other animals like some Indonesian deer, some sad Indonesian macaque monkeys, and reportedly some mongoose and lemurs although their enclosures appeared empty. Still, I am not a crocodile fan the giant tortoises were great. Their enclosure was large, you could feed them, and kids under 10 were allowed to sit on large, resting ones. It is also a breeding facility and they have extensive information on their program and animals of all ages from egg to likely nearing 100 years. C especially liked this part and the pony rides in the petting zoo. The funny part was the tour bus loads of 40-60 year old visitors. Something just seemed odd about that — the lack of children visitors.
The following day I was pretty worn out by my Mauritius driving experience and bored by our food choices at the hotel. So I came up with a plan to head to La Bagatelle, the largest mall in the country and then the nearby Eureka creole plantation house. But I missed the exit. I figured I would turn around at the next roundabout, but there were no more. So instead I just kept going and ended up at Le Caudan waterfront in Port Louis. It seems to be the shopping and restaurant district in the capital. After I figured out not only how to get there but to also park in the crowded parking garage (yay me!), we had lunch, a stroll along the waterfront, and visited the Blue Penny Museum, so named after one of the most famous, rare, and valuable stamps in the world, and the first to be issued in Mauritius. Like the Sugar Factory Museum, the Blue Penny presents the cultural and economic history of Mauritius, tying it to the history of a product and a service — the postal system. It is a small but lovely museum — just the right size to visit with a 4, almost 5, year old.
On December 23rd I struggled with trying again to find the Eureka plantation as it would be closed on the 24th and 25th, or a visit to the Chamarel area. I went with the latter. Things started off rocky as I drove through the same town Plaine Magnien a good 5 times. I cannot exactly explain why. Every turn I made, every time around a roundabout, it all led to that darn town. I started to sing a made-up song about the town that would not let us go in order to calm my nerves (and keep me from just giving up and driving back to the hotel) and to amuse C in the back seat. It worked because once I started singing I finally figured out what I was doing wrong. And then we drove through several more really small towns. For what seemed like forever. At long last I saw a turn off for the Bois Cheri tea plantation and factory. It seemed a good place to stop.
Bois Cheri is the island’s first tea plantation, established in 1892. Tea is the country’s second major crop, after sugar. A visit to Bois Cheri includes a visit to a small museum, a tour of the factory (interesting enough for a 4, almost 5, year old!), and a tea tasting. It was just the stop I needed before getting back in the car and driving on to Chamarel. At long last we arrived. I had begun to suspect the whole thing was an elaborate joke on tourists. Honestly, the whole purpose of driving all this way is to visit the 7 Colored Earth of Chamarel, and some of the reviews I had read online had warned me of the likely disappointment. But perhaps since I had rather low expectations I found the place larger and prettier than I had imagined. But the drive back was longer and less fun than I expected. I joked with friends online that I had driven through every small town in the south with the hashtag #leavenotownunseen. It sure felt like it.
Christmas Eve we drove to the far north of the island to meet up with RS and her son K who previously served in Shanghai and are now in South Africa. (RS is also a single mom in the Foreign Service and is awesome). I had thought we might visit them from Malawi but when I found out just days before our departure that they too would be in Mauritius it was too much of an opportunity to pass up. My plan was to visit the National Botanical Garden on the way up — I checked my phone before heading out and it was supposed to take about 30 minutes to get to the Garden. Um, yeah. Nearly two hours later I gave up and just headed toward RS’s hotel. And just for fairness sake I made sure to drive through every small town on the north of the island. C and K were thrilled to have some time to play and as they frolicked in the pool, at lunch, and in the room RS and I had a chance to catch up. Luckily enough on the drive back I quite easily found the botanical gardens (you know, Murphy’s Law).
Our last day was Christmas. With a late flight back we took full advantage of a late check out and just binge watched the Disney Channel, as one does. Then I realized I had lost C’s one pair of pants and we were heading back to winter. Oh no! I cannot seem to go on vacation anymore without losing something and I did not want 1. my child to freeze and 2. to face the hard stares and tut-tutting disapproval of the Chinese mom mafia when they see my child without pants. Don’t worry, I improvised. Shorts but a pair of the Air Mauritius in-flight socks pulled up to her thighs. Yeah, I’m smart. I’m no dodo. (see what I did there?)