Beautiful Beau Vallon Beach - a walk

It’s 7 am, Thursday 7th August. The sand is fine and soft on this 2 km stretch of beach, the longest on Mahe. There’s a full semi-circle rainbow today and the pot of gold is down the southern end. A few people are having breakfast in the open plan dining-room of the Coral Strand Hotel. In one of their restaurants, you can enjoy excellent mouth-watering curries. I covet the big white house with its pediment and pillared shady verandas. Women are sweeping the beach, just as they do every morning. There is more litter today, because of the market last night, held every Wednesday evening on the road right next to the beach. Seychelles All Sorts for sale; kebabs, karis (curries; fish, chicken, shark), home brews, sarongs, paintings, ceramics, jewellery. At Berjaya Beau Vallon Bay Beach Resort there is activity at the Dive Centre. It’s a good day for a dive. There are 15 boats in the bay today. When it's rough they all disappear. This is where the ‘pot of gold’ should be. And it is; the sand sculpture. Always there is a smugly smiling lion (dreadlocks, Rastaferian?!), with a mermaid/maiden, lying submissively at his feet. This morning, her lower half is washed away by the tide. Sometimes a turtle and/or an entwined couple join them. Their creator is here today. We shake hands. Joseph wears large sharp ‘teeth’ (real, ivory, plastic?) around one arm and in one ear. He’s carving a wooden turtle. The Meridien Fisherman’s Cove hotel, with its attractive thatched bungalows, is the southernmost point. I retrace my steps, some washed away, some blurred by the incoming tide. The sand is firm at the water’s edge, the sea flat, yet small waves form and break constantly. Pairs of fairy terns swoop and glide overhead. Now I’m opposite Al Mare. This is the best spot to sip sundowners and enjoy a good meal, while watching the sun set over the sea, with Silhouette island at centre stage. It has an impressive mountainous silhouette, but is in fact named after an early settler. Randy’s table is empty but later it will be laden with local fruit; coconuts, bananas, papaya, pineapples (when in season), star, bread, jack, passion fruits. You can taste before you buy. People are bustling about at the Blue Sea Dive Centre. The ever popular sandy-floored Baobab Pizzeria will be packed at lunch and dinner, but is deserted now. Fishermen are preparing their nets to go out and catch mackerel. I cross the shallow river flowing into the sea and reach the big granite rocks at the northern end. When the tide is low, you can walk between these and see green-backed and giant herons. But today the tide is high. Back in front of Al Mare, I go for a swim. The water is a clear turquoise. I look up….. and down. I’m the only one in the sea. Lucky, lucky me!

It’s 7 am, Thursday 7th August. The sand between my toes is fine and soft as I step mid-point onto this 2 km stretch of beach, the longest on Mahe. There’s a full semi-circle rainbow today and the pot of gold is down the southern end. A few people are having breakfast in the open plan dining-room of the Coral Strand Hotel. In one of their restaurants, you can enjoy excellent mouth-watering curries. I covet the big white house with its pediment and pillared shady verandas. Women are sweeping the beach, just as they do every morning. There is more litter today, because of the market last night, held every Wednesday evening on the road right next to the beach. Seychelles All Sorts for sale; kebabs, karis (curries; fish, chicken, shark), home brews, sarongs, paintings, ceramics, jewellery. At Berjaya Beau Vallon Bay Beach Resort there is activity at the Dive Centre. It’s a good day for a dive. I count boats as I walk. Today there are lots, 20. When the bay is rough they all disappear. This is where I estimate the ‘pot of gold’ should be. And it is; the sand sculpture. Always there is a smugly smiling lion (dreadlocks, Rastaferian?!), with a mermaid/maiden, lying submissively at his feet. This morning, her lower half is washed away by the tide. Sometimes a turtle and/or an entwined couple join them. Their creator is here today. We shake hands. Joseph wears large sharp ‘teeth’ (real, ivory, plastic?) around one arm and in one ear. He’s carving a wooden turtle. The Meridien Fisherman’s Cove hotel, with its attractive thatched bungalows, is the southernmost point. I retrace my steps, some washed away, some blurred by the incoming tide. The sand is firm at the water’s edge, the sea flat, yet small waves form and break constantly. Pairs of fairy terns swoop and glide overhead. Now I’m opposite Al Mare. This is the best spot to sip sundowners and enjoy a good meal, while watching the sun set over the sea, with Silhouette island at centre stage. It has an impressive mountainous silhouette, but is in fact named after an early settler. Randy’s table is still empty but later it will be laden with local fruit; coconuts, bananas, papaya, pineapples (when in season), star, bread, jack, passion fruits. You can taste before you buy. People are bustling about at the Blue Sea Dive Centre too. The ever popular sandy-floored Baobab Pizzeria will be packed at lunch and dinner, but is deserted now. Fishermen are preparing their nets to go out and catch mackerel. I cross the shallow river flowing into the sea and soon reach the big granite rocks at the northern end. When the tide is low, you can walk between these and see green-backed and giant herons. But today the tide is high. Back in front of Al Mare, I go for a swim. The water is a clear turquoise. I look up….. and down. I’m the only one in the sea. Lucky, lucky me!

A roller coaster ride

Head down steep hill to main road. Halfway down, come face to face with car coming up. Jinx off up someone's driveway. He goes past. He does not say thank you. Head into town, up the mountain, down the other side, twisting, turning, hairpin bends, 2nd gear most of the way. Come face to face hurtling bus on wrong side of road. He's bypassing cordoned off area, collapsed retaining wall being repaired. Where are men with Stop Go signs? Tea break? Screech to halt. Squeeze past. Heart pounds, palms sweat. Smooth ride through town, flat, breathe easy.
Directions; after coming out of town, look out for hairdresser sign at 2nd mirror (lots of these because of many blind corners). Turn sharp left onto narrow road going up hill. Bakery on right ensures correct route (very few street names here and no house numbers). Up, up, up, steeper, more twists, sharp turns between huge boulders, road petering out...finally, pile of burnt rubble (also in directions) and there is Birgitte, waving from veranda. Her house is perched on a lumpy little hill (lots of big rocks under the grass), has lovely view of St Anne's island. We have black coffee (she hasn't been able to get milk - still a shortage) and delicious chocolatey biscuits, which fortify for drive home. Warning from Marcus: DO NOT try to avoid huge pothole on right, as tyre will go off into gully on left. Hold breath.... whew, wheels still on track. Head down hill. Squeeze into layby to let someone drive on up. He says thank you. Decide on scenic route to avoid 'rush hour traffic' in Victoria. Calm and comfy, fairly flat, two way luxury, liven up by acclerating to 40kms per hour. Still lots of twists, turns, solid white lines. Someone has stopped at one of many little shops. Traffic backs up. One by one, we daringly sweep out over white line, break free. No-one hoots. Exhilirating now, traffic thins out, driving up east coast. Stretches of beach and ruffled milky turquoise sea flash past. Twisting, turning, rising, falling, feels great going round North East Point. Into familiar territory, head down west coast toward Beau Vallon. Well known markers whizz by (50kms per hour); Copra House, Sunset Beach, Northolme, Mike's Store. Glimpses of beaches far below, then same level as my Speedy Silver Bullet. Home stretch, slow down, first gear, surge up short turn off into 'our' road. Heartbeat steady, slow, but hang on, here comes a car down the hill. Roll back down hill off to one side. Car gets past. Smile and wave, smile and wave. Stay in first for very steep bit, flattens, widens, whoopee into 2nd. All is calm. Swing wide, get good angle for going between walls. Check mirrors, good, haven't bumped either side. Orange garage doors, heart soars, home sweet home. Ride over.

Pretty scrambled eggs

Sunny Seychelles? It is not. It hasn't been for two months or so now - instead we've had lots of strong winds and rain. Poor holiday makers who have paid hard-earned cash to come here. Last year was lovely - lots of glorious sunny days and calm seas. Therefore much safer weather for lifting crates of sooty tern eggs from the islands (where they are harvested at this time of year)onto the waiting barges. In spite of rough seas and pitching barges this year, 1,000s of eggs survived intact and unscrambled and are being consumed with relish. Many people go mad for them.

It seemed like a good day to scramble the intact ones we had in the fridge. They have been staring at me every time I opened the door, for over a week now. I'd had a mental block about them, having been told that they're bright orange when cooked and taste of fish. But they were a pretty apricot and didn't taste fishy to me - not sure I could tell them apart from hen's eggs if it weren't for their colour actually. So, what is all the fuss about then?

Another taboo in my mind (small 'spoilt person' mind) was powdered milk - boarding school memories perhaps. Everyone here knows that you don't get fresh milk in the Seychelles, (except perhaps in the posh hotels?) but mostly one can get long life milk. Lately though, only a few shops have had it in stock, and at a price. So I bought and mixed up some powdered milk and found it isn't at all bad.

There was quite literally a bun fight at the supermarket on Wednesday. A new batch of baguettes was just coming out of the ovens. People stood ready near the empty bread baskets with their plastic bags and as each basket was put down, there was frantic pushing, shoving, grabbing and stuffing of bags. Flour is another product that is hard to find at the moment. Maybe this is why there seems to be a shortage of bread in some shops too. No-one seemed to want the small whole grain loaves at Rs30 each.

Then in the same supermarket, there is an enormous pumpkin on display - a whopping 63 kgs, almost big enough to carry Cinderella to the ball. But there are no mice to be seen, and it is not for sale. It is cordoned off, with a 'don't touch' sign. It was grown hydroponically here on Mahe - a Chinese project. I wonder if it will ever be eaten. It could feed a lot of hungry people.

Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun. Mad dogs and Englishwomen go out in the afternoon rain. I've just seen some bedraggled tourists in their colourful holiday attire, walking along, leaning into the wind and rain. There were also some Seychellois playing volleyball on the beach. I've come home and got out a jersey (South African for cardigan), which smells of mould - it has languished in the cupboard for over a year. I am having a nice cup of Earl Grey tea - we're running out of coffee.