Exploring the Island

RTW Day 3. So how does this mosquito net work? When I first arrived, I asked another person staying here whether they'd seen any mozzies. Not yet. Apparently the British realised that all the mosquitos here bred in the mangrove swamps, so they planted other trees there that would drain them. Completely removed the mosquitos, but also unfortunately eradicated the breeding grounds for lots of tropical fish. So now the Islanders are putting the swamps back. Anyway, I also haven't seen any mosquitos, but you can never be too sure. So last night I unwrapped the net, care of COLT as a leaving present, and tried hanging it above the bed.

 

Firstly it's a single net, and this is a double bed, but that's okay. However, I think the proportions suggest that the hanging point is towards one end of the bed. Presumably the "head" end. Strangely though, it seems to be really slack at the foot end, so that the net ends up draped over your skin, and presumably if they can tolerate the anti-mozzy chemicals impregnated in the net, then the buggers could chomp on my ankles (they seem to really like my ankles - perhaps the most accessible hairless bit of me?) through the netting. So the obvious thing is to put the hanging ring higher, so the whole thing lifts off you. However then one finds that the "head" end is too taut and will lift off the bed if you raise it any more. So what's going on?! Need an instruction book! Or Google...

 

Today I had a small but pleasant breakfast of instant coffee, bread with cheese and jam, and a half-pineapple. Then along to the bus station for the bus to Port Louis, the capital. The French hotel owner had told me not to bother, as everything would be shut, but what else am I supposed to do - lie around on the beach and swim in the crystal clear waters for a second day running?!

 

The buses here are old but frequent. People don't seem to travel far, so whoever you sit next to will change on a regular basis if you're travelling from one end of the island to the other. This journey was uneventful, passing over the cooler top of the Island, so one long climb for the first 30 mins and a fast descent the last 10 (all times guestimated!) though amusing that the bus stopped by a melon vendor, conductor yells at him and waves some notes, and they swap. Melon stashed on the dashboard of the bus, presumably for later!

[photo of conductor buying melons]

I tried to ask the conductor about the bus services to airport for tomorrow morning, but was a complete waste of time, not because they didn't understand me, more that they didn't seem interested in understanding me. There was a timetable pinned up in the bus, but at the time I need to head to the airport, there are two buses with are listed as "K Express" and "O Express". I wanted to check whether these stop at the airport. Instead I was told that the bus back from Port Louis [GPS: 20.15993S, 57.50072E] (where we had just arrived) stopped over therrrre thank you and get off the bus now please, Sir.

 

Now, you may have noticed these GPS grid references I've been posting occasionally. If you're interested in seeing where I'm talking about, just fire up Google Earth (what, you don't have it? go download immediately!!), and paste the numberX, numberY bit into the. Et voila! Almost as much fun as being here with me, eh?! Anyway, my cunning geeky plan is to track my location and publish overlays, kmz files, which will show you my route. That relies on paid-for Google Earth at the moment rather than the free stuff, so is on hold. Also need to master GPSDash, the program on my phone I'm using to record Waypoints.

 

Port Louis was as quiet as expected. It seemed much like all other Mauritian towns, but with some particularly large tower blocks, and no beach :( By the harbour there was a so-called English pub, advertising a "wide variety of beers on tap and cask". I poked my suspicious head round the corner - one lager tap and a couple of bottles! Disgraceful! The only place open in town seemed to be KFC (McDonalds closed Sundays). And no Starbucks! Perhaps I just didn't notice the no-doubt countless branches. As I walked around, I listened to a Radio 4 Podcast: the File on 4 Programme, 17th October, about Labour's attempts at bringing the private sector into the NHS. It's shocking how weasely (is that a word?) these politician are. Forget Tory sleaze, the Labour party have far exceeded any moral depths plunged in the past. It's amazing also the complete denial and way in which all controls are bypassed - apparently information is consistently being withheld from the Commons Select Committee on the dubious grounds of commercial confidentiality. And yet it is precisely these so-called commercial grounds that are the supposed justification for the whole project in the first place. Anyway, more ranting on this and similar subjects later!

 

I clambored up in the heat and sun (where is my sun-cream when I need it) up to an imposing Moorish citadel perched above the city, which was built by the British in, erm, late 1800s, though it never saw much use aside from an occasional garrison being stationed there (and a horrible murder in the 50s). Back down and time to head back to Mahebourg. The bus station didn't seem to have an area for buses going my way, so I asked around, and was pointed out of the station to the main road. I waited where I was told to wait, by a dual carriageway with no bus stop. Hmmm. Asked a person walking past whether this was the right place. Oh yes, he says, the bus will come eventually. Got chatting to another person ten minutes later. Oh no, those buses don't stop here at all, it's a few blocks on and round the corner. I wonder whether he is winding me up. Seemed quite convincing though, so I follow his advice, which thankfully was correct. I would have been waiting a long time in the original spot. I guess it's the Indian thing of never wanting to displease people with an answer. Is this so-and-so? Yes; The answer is always yes. Can be frustrating at times though!

 

Dinner was at a LP approved restaurant called Chez Nous. Extremely quiet, but a pretty girl serving made up for that. I had some sort of calamari dish with saffron rice. Really nice, though she seemed worried it would be spicy? The sauce tasted more like sweet soy sauce. No evidence of even pepper let alone spice. Ah well. Washed down with a glass of red. And now it's bed time.. as the waves lap against my window, time to dream of BA First tomorrow morning, my 9:10am departure, and the first flight on my Round the World ticket! No oversleeping, Crawley...

Happy Diwali!

Captain's Log, Stardate RTW Day 2. In case you're wondering, I won't keep this level of verbosity going for the whole year! Enjoy it whilst it lasts!! Anyway, not much sleep was had before Dubai, and whilst there the whole no souvenirs thing kicked in - everyone wandered the terminal with duty free shopping bags, but I of course have no room in my bag, nor the compulsion to carry much picked up along my journey. I suppose it's inevitable that I will have something imposed on me sooner or later. My solution is to post things back to the UK, but of course I don't want to make a habit of this. Incidentally, when I got off the plane, I nearly left a load of stuff behind. My daypack bag has elasticated (but not zipped) side pouches, and somehow one of my camera lens filters (a quite expensive one, mind!), my bluetooth GPS receiver and some other bits had all fallen out. Thank goodness the chap sitting next to me pointed this out. Yellow card to daypack. Not good.

 

Anyway, stopped off in the "Irish" bar, as I had three hours to kill and no access to the BA Lounge (yet!), and ended up chatting with a rather portly American chap who is apparently a fire fighter in Iraq. Something he's doing just for a few years to earn plenty of money to put his daughter  (soon to be) through college. He described how planes take off from Baghdad Airport - apparently rather than the conventional along the runway, up and off tactic, in this case their is only a small area which is secure from rocket launchers etc around the airport. So planes take off in as short a distance as possible, then rise up in a tight cork-screw motion to stay within airport limits until they are high enough to be safe. Quite an 'exciting' experience!

 

So, our plane to Mauritius started boarding suspiciously early - and on trooping down the stairs in the gate it became apparenty why - a bus waited to take us out to one of Emirates more, shall we say, venerable planes. Not propellors or anything, but faded interior, and a shocking lack of leg room due to a metal box underneath the seat in front of me. The only solution... I would have to slip my right foot under the seat to the right of me as soon as the chap there wasn't looking! In fact he turned out to be very nice, a Mauritian returning home to his family after an extended period working in Pakistan as an engineer making plastic pipes (yes I didn't pursue the line of questioning much after that!).

 

Second disaster (legroom) of the flight struck when the chap in front of us agreed to swap his seat for one further back with more leg room. The real motive behind this kind offer from the stewardess came when a woman replaced him with a screaming (and I mean screaming) baby! Argh! And we already had at least two babies within about 4 seats of us. Naturally on take off the trio exercised their vocal cords to the full. And the one in front of us carried on... For what must have been about half of the seven hour flight. One was not amused.

 

Slightly bleary-eyed, I had a really nice view of Mauritius as we circled the Island coming into land (perhaps the water around it was dangerous?!).

One outstanding question was where to stay. Apparently the capital, Port Louis, didn't have much in the way of accommodation, so most people stay in one of the beach towns. Just to give you an idea of scale, Mauritius does have a couple of "motorways" - I think it's about 45 minutes drive from one end of the Island to the other. Transport is usually bus. My two possible ideas were either to stay near the airport (convenient for my 9am flight on Monday), or to stay the other end of the Island in Grand Baie, which sounded like the most lively town, or to do a combo, one night in each, though this would mean moving my stuff, a big downside!

 

Before resolving this though, I had to get through the idiotic immigration officers in MRU airport. I queue up, only to have a bunch of people who had queued in front of an empty desk filter into our queue, which I wouldn't have minded but for the stroppy English woman next to me shove herself in front of me to make sure she could push into my queue ("How rude!", as Lucy would say). Then the officer sent me away from the queue telling me that I had filled out the wrong form, that I had filled out a departure form. However, the one I filled out says "arrival" and the one he gave me says "au revoir". And then I notice another officer giving the departure form to a couple, telling them not to fill it out now, but they'll need it when they leave! Grrrrr! Not happy.

 

Rob would have been very proud of me fighting my way through the taxis and touts when I came out. It would have been oh so easy to succumb, but I have to think "on a budget" now. Plan is to bus it to Mahebourg, a town near the airport on the coast, and find a cheap place to stay there. LP recommends a couple of places for around £15 per night, which isn't the $2 I had envisaged, but then this is an expensive honeymoon-type Island. We'll see. Bus came quite quickly, though I had trouble getting my full pack through the door (doesn't bode well). Thank goodness there were spare seats I could drop it on, wouldn't have liked to carry the bugger or stand with it. Anyway, price of bus = 14 rupees (25p?). Good start!

In terms of scenery, Mauritius reminds me of Nepal. I suppose it's the Hindu thing, happy slogans painted everywhere, the vibrant colours. The bus station is right by the water.. My first Mauritian sea scene. Verrry pretty. Lovely blues, a nice breeze. Welcome to Paradise!

 

My self-welcome was seconded by a tout coming and chatting to me about 10 seconds later. Oh well. Fended him off and started walking along the water into town. Arrived at the recommended place, Auberge Aquarella [GPS: 20.41263S, 57.71074E]. He has one room left, and it'll cost 1600R. Oh dear! That's about £25 per night! Doesn't he have anything cheaper? No. What is it? It's a gorgeous self-contained thatched cottage right by the water, with a large window with waves lapping at the bottom, and a big bed where one can look straight out...

Ok I fell for it! I've paid three or four times this to be in some really horrible places, can't scrimp everywhere, eh? :) The owner is a French guy who has living in Mauritius for 6 years. Before that, Australia. Guess he just doesn't like home, huh? The majority of white people here are French it would seem. They did win once against the English here, apparently they're so proud of it that it's inscribed on the Arc du Triomph in Paris. Of course, we soon sorted that out, and the island was British until independence in 1968.

 

Dumped bags, put shorts on, flip flops out, and off to take bus to Blue Bay [GPS: 20.44275S, 57.71605E], about 6km along the coast and apparently one of the best beaches on the Island.

Went for swim and read my book (A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole). Swim was nice, but not quite as warm as the crystal clear azure waters would have you believe! It was a bit cloudy by this stage though, and in fact I ended up being driven off the beach by a brief rain shower! Rain! How dare they! Only for a minute though, and I noticed when it stopped that the tarmac roads were steaming as the water evaporated! Crikey! Anyway, rain was the excuse to dip into a restaurant for lunch - Le Bougainville. Had a chicken curry for 250 rupees (£4), plus a Phoenix Beer. Phoenix is the main (only?) Mauritian beer. Apparently it's award winning, though it doesn't say which awards specifically on the bottle, and I know I'm not much of a lager person, but I have to say IMHO it doesn't taste particularly nice!

 

After lunch, bused back to Mahebourg (pronounced My-bor), pottered about town, though most things where closed, then back to hotel for a snooze. Nice! And in the evening, out for Diwali! Unfortunately it was still a bit wet and windy, not good weather for fireworks. People were still trying though, and there were flashing Xmas-tree lights everywhere, candles and fireworks crackling.

I went to a restaurant called La Velle Rouge, recommended by the owner of the hotel. On arrival, I asked for a table for one, and I thought the girl said "sorry, we're full up", so I trudged out looking miserable. Misunderstanding, she had said "we're full inside, but you can sit outside", haha! My French is just attrocious! I probably would have preferred to sit on the veranda-style area outside anyway! They had a special Diwali menu on for the evening, for 400 rupees.

That and a few drinks came to 750. Expensive living! Can't carry on the whole year like this! Diwali menu consisted of, erm, lots of stuff.. difficult to describe most of it, but there were some fish-aubergine things, lots of nibbly things, mini parcels to dip in a sauce, and finally a lamb curry with rice and vegetables on a big green sheet of paper (presumably originally it would have been served on banana or pandan leaves).

 

Incidentally, there is fruit growing everywhere here. Especially coconut, and mangoes, but also other things I'm not sure about. There seem to be water melons all over the place, but obviously all sorts of food-poisoning alarms start ringing there, so probably won't try them! Unless I buy the whole one, and nick a knife from somewhere. That reminds me, I haven't felt the urge to use my water-free anti-bacterial handwash yet, so obviously don't feel completely at war with germs here!

 

Final parting gift from the restaurant was a "Happy Diwali" box full of Indian sweets. Nice. According to LP, all the religions live happily side-by-side in Mauritius. Christians, Muslims, Hindus and others, they all get on and respect each other. Maybe the rest of the world could learn something from the Island of Paradise...

Many Weights Lifted..

Captain's Log, Stardate RTW Day 1. Am on my way, and I have to say it feels really good. I've felt quite stressed and tense for the past few days, probably due to having to move out of my flat. Don't they say that moving house is up there with divorce and being subjected to BAA so-called "security" incompetence as the most stressful experiences one endures in life? In my case, I am a certified horder, and evidence of this is to be found in the attic where my things are currently stored.

Hugo, a lovely Swedish chap who has returned to Sweden to have a baby, has stored in the same loft approximately half what I have accumulated! My conclusion is that I can never possibly move from the Mews, as I would never be able to afford a removals firm willing to undertake the job.

 

Anyway, the first weights that were lifted today were the last of my possessions, into the loft of the flat I've been living in, and I have to confess I am experiencing a few uncomfortable twangs in the lower back that were not there yesterday! Someone gimme a back massage! Ah ha, the Molton Brown Spa in T4 here we come! I spent most of the night packing, and thanks to Eunjeong for helping out otherwise perhaps I'd still be at home now having long missed the flight. I think I was genuinely worried about not packing up in time, and this was hanging over me like the eternal drizzle over my beloved Blighty! The moment I'd dropped my flatkeys and walked away, I felt all my worries drain away, and a real excited buzz took over! It's really happening! Woo yay!

 

My journey started out modestly. Round the corner with two rather heavy bags (how did that happen?), and on to the 328 bus to Kilburn Park (had to resist explaining what my travel plans to the old ladies seated either side of me - "see you in a year, NW6!", then Bakerloo Line to Paddington (pre-pay, byebye my lovely Gold Card, sob), and on to Heathrow Express, the world's most expensive railway per minute mile (again thanks to BAA, my current corporate enemy number one).

Nearly went to Terminal 4, as I forgot I am flying Emirates to start my journey, i.e. T3.

Check-in painless, as I skipped an enormous queue as I had finally managed to check in online at home, on the third damn attempt. Emirates online check-in is not as mature as BA's, I seemed to be the only person doing this, and so was moved on to a First/Business check-in queue! Hurrah! Anyway, I read somewhere that Emirates are joining OneWorld. About time too!

 

So second weight lifted was my 18kg main pack. Why is it so heavy?! My day pack must be at least 6kg or so too, but it's not so much weight that worries me as volume. I certainly couldn't fit my daypack into my main pack, which is what I need to be able to do when trekking. Plus 3kg of water of course when Camelback is filled. Iodine, yum! Will post a list of stuff I have later, but these initial trips to Mauritius and Cairo are good dry runs for my pack. Worse case I can dump some stuff as I pass through London.

 

The next weight lifted of course, was my backside by this 777 plane.

Here's a question for you all - why do airlines occasionally do this ridiculous "boarding by row numbers" thing? Absolute chaos. People form an orderly queue to get on the plane, women and children of course allowed on first, then it's all turned upside down when they decide that regardless of priority or boarding speed, rows 50 to 60 are going on first! Ridiculous! When I've got more money than sense I shall commission a study to find out the optimum boarding strategy. Of course, by that time I will be flying first all the time anyway, so I won't care! Oops!

 

As it's Ramadan and we're flying an Islamic aircraft, we don't get food until the appropriate time. Amusingly there are two options - following UK times, or wherever the plane is at the time. I envisage chaos with the catering trolleys! No issues here at seat 18H, bacon sarnie and no veil please!

 

So what's the Crawley Seat Choosing Strategy (c)? Rules to follow are:

1. Sit as far forward on the plane as possible. Means quick on and off, less smelly, not near toilets, and vague chance of being bumped forwards to higher cabins.

2. Don't sit in front row or bulkhead seats, as leg room often chopped off by solid wall in front of you. Plus BA have baby change things in the middle at front, so you might be near an infant (heaven forbid!)

3. Aisle always.

4. Go for right hand side of plane. This is important when disembarking, as middle block passengers tend to drift left on leaving

5. Chose side of aisle based on minimising how many people will have to squeeze past you to go to loo.

6. With most economy sections, always go for that forward smaller bit just behind business. Less noisy.

 

That's about it for now. Complex game. Of course, for my First Class BA flights, it's bed 2A all the way. According to seatexpert.com, this is the best seat BA has to offer on their entire fleet! I actually rode it to Mexico, I had wanted 1A but it had been pinched by a diplomatic couple (not as in they negotiated it, you know what I mean!), so I ended up one back, which is good as I later learnt there's a cupboard over 1A which the stewardesses use. And we wouldn't like that, would we?!

 

Sam's general flight tip is: always open liquid containers away from you! Applies especially to those small milk containers. Oooh we just got the "Ladies and Gentlemen, is there a Doctor on board?" announcement, wonder what's going on?! Don't worry, I didn't have the fish! FYI current film being watched = Ice Age 2: Meltdown. Fantastic, and leads me on to my environmental rant later. Next film, Devil wears Prada. Maybe. There are about 400 films you can watch on the entertainment system, all on demand etc. Can't wait to be in BA First asking whether anyone else has the "tape" out! Come on, BA, updated your entertainment system! We need VOD! Actually I'm gonna watch Thank you for Smoking...

 

More later, and perhaps some sleep before we hit Dubai..

Sad times..

Well it's fast approaching time to go.. almost everyone I'm seeing at the moment I'm saying good-bye to :( Then again it's pouring with rain and grey outside the window now, I'm sure when I'm on that plane to Mauritius I'm going to feel differently. Let's get on with it!

On the flip-side, check the seat numbers!: