In my three weeks in India last year there was no danger of that. It's hard to write about travel without judging, reducing, summing up, closing down. I have many photos but the thoughts have come slowly. Last month, I was abruptly invited to go to Mauritius for a week, to research a possible project for our firm. Just a scrap of palm in the wind, and the sugarcane. (Planted rows of trees on rural highways are surprisingly common all over the island.) And despite the lack of tourists, someone had taken the trouble to plant the highway with coconut palms. It was a pleasant Sunday late afternoon, and everyone seemed out in the strees and parks and beaches of the coastal towns. I drove back east along the island's southern coast, one of the least touristed shores. It yielded just one photogenic Mauritius native, a Dombeya acutangula. No luck photographing birds, but I did find a small indigenous garden in a very remote corner of the place, as though it were tolerated as the hobby of an eccentric uncle. I made a brief stop at the Casela Bird Park, a small zoo over-laden with secondary attractions (Minature golf?). ![]() The volcanic landforms are especially obvious. The west coast is dry (sugarcane must be irrigated) and moderately touristed. When I drove on down to the coast, the same rock looked like this. The rock in the middle distance is on the coast. My irreverent camera, bucking my better judgment, sought out the absurd.īut overall the view southwest looked like this. But at one of the overlooks there was a chance to get down into more varied foliage. ![]() I'd drive through a patch of pure pine, then pure eucalyptus, then pure melaleuca. It appeared to be a series of former plantations. I was headed generally for the Black River Gorges National Park in the southwest highlands of the island, but viewed from the road, the park was a disappointment. This enclosure had me wondering if they were appealing to children who knew the story of the tortoise and the hare. Other than that, it looks like a farm, dedicated to research on sustainable agriculture - in other words, something, anything, other than sugarcane. That is to say: they've set up an entry booth, and a shop, and they charge admission. I stopped for an hour or so at a small farmstead that's been developed as a tourist attraction. Then I drove west across the island, trying to keep to back roads. And I love the idea that small rocks on the edge of the sea are the place for shrines. Jesus? As with many things, I like this level of uncertainty. It's wonderfully sited on a little rock, so that it's an island at least at high tide.Įveryone who sees this photo wants to get closer. Most are Hindu but this one is obviously Christian. (Auberge Aquarella I recommend it.) Early the next morning, after chatting a bit with a bus driver at the local station, I wandered out to the beach and took one of my oddest photographs.ĭotted along the coast are a number of tiny shrines, often just on little ledges between the road and the sea. After the drive described in the last post, I stayed the Saturday night in Mahébourg.
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