Showing posts with label beautiful places. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beautiful places. Show all posts

Friday, 3 June 2016

Mauritius

Mauritius




I arrived on the multi cultural island of Mauritius to bright blue skies and a temperature of 25 degrees and had an hour’s taxi ride to my hotel on the north east coast. Mauritius was first colonized by the Dutch in the 17th century, then by the French until the early 1800’s when the British claimed it – until it’s independence in 1968. It’s a lush, sub tropical island, with dense sub tropical forests, volcanic craters and black basalt rocks – and of course surrounded by coral reefs of the Indian Ocean.


The Ambre hotel was a self-contained resort and as it was “All Inclusive” I didn’t have to leave the place, so for three days I relaxed and recovered from the long journey. I walked both directions up and down Belle Mare beach, a long stretch of pure white sand both ways. This was advertised as one of the best stretches of beach on the island, and I could see why - it was idyllic. 




By the Friday, I was ready to go off exploring – the hire car was booked and although it arrived a bit late – I wanted to see what else Mauritius had to offer! I headed inland for fuel and then up the east coast towards the north part of the island. There were many beautiful bays and beaches all the way up the coast, with car parks and palm tree picnic areas every few miles.

These secluded spots were lovely and shaded and enabled you to park only a few feet from the beautiful ocean. I stopped many times to admire the views before reaching Cap Malheureux, with it’s quaint chapel - red roof and white walls, overlooking yet another fabulous bay. Although the locals frequently asked if you wanted to buy something or go on a boat trip, they weren’t threatening at all - they were all very friendly.

I stopped at Grand Bay, and walked around the coast for a while, admiring the yachts and other boats – but it was a bit too commercial for my liking – more like a holiday resort. There were too many activities happening and too many shops! As I passed through many of the towns you couldn’t help but admire and marvel at the temples – they were so different from any that I had seen anywhere else.


They weren’t gold, they were completely multi coloured, pink, blue, yellow, red, and green – every colour imaginable. The highlight of my day had to be visiting Pamplemousse (meaning Grapefruit in Mauritian) Gardens in the centre of the island, 60 acres of tropical paradise that was originally planted in 1735.

It included 500 different species of trees and plants – including my favourite – The Giant Victoria Regia Water Lillies. They were incredible and completely lived up to my expectations – there was a large rectangular pond full of them, some of the Lillies must have been four feet across, with upturned edges, they looked like you could sit on them and sail away.

There was the occasional heron balancing on them, with pink coloured flowers peering out between the pads. There were some very old palms in the garden, (that flower when they reach 60 years of age and then they die!) several other ponds, a deer pen and a tortoise enclosure. It was quite a sight watching the Giant Tortoises; there were 18 of them, some enjoying the sunshine, some wallowing in the mud, some drinking the pond water and a few feeling very frisky!


Now that looked mighty uncomfortable! After visiting the gardens I headed towards the capital, Port Louis, which looked very busy, so I returned to the hotel, along small roads with sugar cane both sides and villages that were so small, you had gone through them without realising.



The most hazardous part of driving, was avoiding the dogs that wandered along the roads. I arrived back to the hotel absolutely exhausted, I had, had a full 9 hours out driving around the north of the island and ended my day with a relaxing walk along the beach.






The second day exploring saw me heading west, but as it was Saturday the roads were so busy that it took hours to reach the first port of call. When I arrived at Tamarin, looking for the Waterfalls, I was directed along an awful dirt track, along the top edge of a dormant volcano, stopping at separate viewpoints to admire the Tamarin Waterfall. From up there I could see for miles over the flat plains towards the coast, and the Black River National Park in the distance. The next stop was supposed to be another Botanical Gardens, but when I eventually found it, I discovered it was now derelict. There were however, more coloured plants and flowers growing along the roadside (even more colour than at Pamplemousse).


I drove into the National Park and found Alexandra Falls, with the loveliest shaded picnic site, and a view of more waterfalls and the mountainous rainforest beyond. I spoke to a very friendly policeman who asked me where I was headed, and when I told him I was heading to Chamarel – he said that it was very hot there! Surely it wasn’t going to get hotter than it was now!

The journey to Chamarel was horrendous – the hairpin bends were the worst that I have ever driven around, especially with the steep drops at each side of the road - when there was only enough room for one vehicle! It was the longest couple of miles ever. The first part of Chamarel was to see the waterfall – the Chamarel Cascade, and although I had already seen two waterfalls that day, this one was the best – as well as water gushing down hundreds of metres, the light was catching the water just right – making rainbows in the sunshine.

Very impressive! I carried on further down towards the “Seven Coloured Earth”, along more terrifying single-track roads. What a sight I was greeted with at the bottom! It was like a lunar landscape, but in so many different shades of red, orange, brown and grey. Some people said that these volcanic mounds looked like a giant coloured tortoise shell – I preferred the likeness to the moon though. The policeman was right, it was very hot down at Chamarel – it was like being in the desert – but surrounded by dense sub tropical forest with many birds, lizards and small animals.


I stopped and had an ice cream and a rest, trying to avoid the intense sun. I was dreading travelling back up the mountain – but thankfully it wasn’t that bad. I headed back through the National Forest stopping at the viewpoint to see the Black River Gorge and the plains looking towards the coast beyond. The final stop on my itinerary for the day was the Grand Bassin, and nothing could have prepared me for the sight of that!  As I travelled through the forest, the single-track road suddenly become a 6-lane highway, and in the distance, there stood a 108-foot high statue overlooking the sacred lake, a place of pilgrimage for many Hindu people.


The spectacular statue was a bronze colour and reminded me of “The Angel of The North” and the road approaching it was so impressive; it made you feel like you were approaching Mecca! I walked around the garden at the top, and down to the lake below (which was full of fish thriving on all of the “offerings” they were being given), and saw strange concrete stools at 1-metre intervals – I think they were used for ceremonies to baptize people. It was an awesome place to see, very colourful, serene and sacred.

The drive back to the hotel took over 2 hours; and in the failing twilight it was a miracle that I didn’t run over any stray dogs, men on bicycles, wandering pedestrians or cars on the wrong side of the road! Ten hours out, I was so tired. I thought that this island wasn’t supposed to be very big – only 45 x 65 km; no one had said how hard it was to actually get around it! I had a much-needed shower, dinner, more insect repellent and went to bed – absolutely exhausted.


Sunday was my last day with the car, and I had decided to see the south of the island, which was supposed to be the rugged, windswept coastline with crashing waves. I headed off through the sugar plantations again, crossing many rivers full of boulders and swirling water. I went through one town (hamlet really) and the police told me to stop whilst a colourful parade passed us – a Hindu ceremony  – the costumes were so bright and colourful!
My first stop was a place called Gris Gris, a small cove overlooking a sandy beach below, with high cliffs and waves crashing into the granite rocks. Because there are no coral reefs to contain the waves here, they crashed spectacularly against the black rocks, which reminded me of Cornwall.  I walked around the gardens on top of the cliff top at Souillac, before heading off to find Rochester Waterfalls. They have got to be the hardest place to get to (and yesterday was bad enough), I was directed through fields upon fields of sugarcane, turning this way and then that way.
The signs got smaller and smaller, finally only showing a wave on them. I was very tempted to get out and walk when it said there was only 500 metres to go – what a good job I didn’t! Eventually, after about 30 minutes of dirt tracks, uneven roads and boulders, I got out of the car and just headed towards the noise of the water and people shouting. At the bottom of a very steep hill, I found hoards of people shouting and cheering at young men jumping off basalt rocks, very high up, into the cool, running waters below.
The falls were very picturesque, with torrents of water crashing down into the cool, deep, dark waters below, surrounded by a lush green forest. But only yards away from that cool shade, the intense sun was blazing down and the car was miles up the hill! After a struggle to get back to the car, and even more of a struggle to remember the way through the maze of sugar cane fields out onto the main road again, I headed to the coast and found a lovely sheltered spot by the beach to have lunch.

There weren’t many people about and it was good to spend some time just sitting watching the sea, which was lovely and calm, and a beautiful green colour – before heading off on the long journey back to the hotel. I stopped at a bridge to take a photograph of the river below, and saw two men jumping and swimming in the water; surprisingly one of them had no clothes on! And I thought nudity was frowned upon in Mauritius! The roads were fairly quite most of the way back; everyone must have gone home for an afternoon siesta – thank goodness. Travelling on the roads had been a complete nightmare – cars and motorbikes coming down on the wrong side of the road, sometimes on both sides at once! I felt like I didn’t have enough eyes – I just had to close my eyes, wave and laugh!




Back to the hotel for a few more days of sunshine and a much needed rest after my 3 days exploring!  I think the maps and tourist guides were wrong, the island is far bigger than they say! I enjoyed the sunshine and all the amenities that the hotel had to offer: I enjoyed long walks along the beach; I had a go at canoeing one day when the sea wasn’t too rough and swam in the sea and in the pool many times.

Although it was very hot, there was always a breeze that kept you from feeling too hot! I never got burnt, which was amazing in temperatures that were well over 30 degrees. I discovered some wonderful rock pools that were left between the granite boulders, when the tide went out – full of wonderful, little, tropical fish (neon tetras, angel fish and little black sharks). As I scrambled further and further out, searching for more interesting fish, I did the ultimate………………I slid and fell in the water. I literally sat in it, thoroughly soaking myself! But it was worth it; the sights that I saw early that morning were amongst the best I had seen from the beach. I loved the white crabs, which looked as if they had red smiley faces painted on them, scurrying into their holes when the tide had subsided. A thoroughly enjoyable time at the Ambre Hotel and on the tropical island of Mauritius!

Next I was planning a short stopover in Dubai on the way home…….....Watch out for that, its very exciting!




Sunday, 18 October 2015

Scilly Isles


Scilly Isles



This was the first time that I had ever been anywhere by myself. I had chosen The Isles of Scilly because they sounded safe but I didn’t really know what I was going to find there. I had watched a couple of DVD’s about the islands, but they were really dated and there wasn’t much up to date material about the place. So this really did feel like a big adventure for me …………even though it was only for a few days! Little did I know that it would be the start of a whole new chapter in my life. I drove to Bristol Airport to catch the plane down to St. Mary’s – the main island. I have never been on such a small plane - it only carried 8 passengers; and there was so little space in the cabin you weren’t allowed any hand luggage.

Even though it was summer - the first week in July; the weather was so awful we had to make an unscheduled stop in Newquay for an hour. We all had to get off (in torrential rain) and run across the runway to a hanger with seats inside – to wait for the storm to blow over. I had begun to doubt my confidence and part of me just wanted to go back home. Anyway, the stormy weather subsided and we were on our way again; the sun came out and the Cornish coastline below looked magnificent. We arrived at St Mary’s airport in no time at all – about 30 minutes. I needn’t have worried about how I was going to get to my hotel, because whenever a plane arrives, the local taxis do too! You don’t have to book one; they meet all the incoming flights. On the short journey to my hotel I could not believe how many unusual tropical-looking plants were growing everywhere; and my friendly taxi driver told me that the islanders are happy for anyone to take cuttings home with them. I thought I had died and gone to heaven! I would certainly be taking some of the Scilly Isles back in my very small suitcase – somehow! It wasn’t very long before I reached my guesthouse in Hugh Town - nowhere on St. Mary’s was far from anywhere else. I felt like I had gone back in time. My single room reminded me of 1950’s films, a bed, a small wardrobe and a table. It would do! I wasn’t intending spending too long in my room anyway.


Apparently this is what most of the B&B’s are like. It really is an island that has stood still; I didn’t mind that, it had such a quaint, almost ideal feel to it. Anyway, the adventure had begun and I headed out exploring. I wasn’t too far away from the harbour, so that was the first port of call, and then a walk along the nearby beach.



Unfortunately, the awful weather had followed me and before long the rain was coming down in torrents soaking me through! Determined not to let it spoil my trip, I went back, put some dry clothes on and headed out again to The Mermaid Inn where I spent a very pleasant hour talking to some locals, before a well earned nights sleep.

I woke very early the next day - the sunshine was peering through the curtains. Adventure time! I headed off exploring the area known as The Garrison. This area had been a strong hold since Norman times, was especially important in the reign of Elizabeth 1st when the Star Castle was built after the Spanish Armada; and then it had been in use again during both World Wars. Although it had been redundant since that time, it still had such an historical feel about it.
I don’t know why but I am always filled with excitement when I see canons overlooking the sea (Me-thinks I should have lived in Tudors Times!). The views over the calm ocean were stunning; I could not have seen this area at a more beautiful time. There was no one about; it was so peaceful - yet I didn’t once feel afraid there by myself. The path took me all the way around the coast, almost in a circle, every so often passing another Gun Battery, a Point, several houses and so many amazing views out over the ocean.
Almost at the end of the walk, I saw a beach; this one was on the other side of Hugh Town. What an unusual shape this island is – a figure of eight really with two beaches on opposite sides of the island where the circles meet. The view overlooking this beach was fabulous, the sun was still out and everywhere was blossoming. The flowers! I have never seen so many unusual ones. Outside many houses there were small pots of plant cuttings for sale for and I just had to buy a few. After having something to eat, I walked along the other beach again known as Town Beach – this was completely different.

 This one was the same side as the harbour, and as you looked out to sea here, there were hundreds of small fishing boats, speedboats and yachts. Unbelievably I bumped into a family who had been on the plane yesterday with me – what a co-incidence (when there had only been 8 of us). I sat a while, had an ice cream, watched the world go by and contemplated life. It certainly was the place to do that. If you wanted to come anywhere to escape the hustle and bustle of the world – this was most definitely the place. You were never too far from people if you wanted them, but solace was everywhere too.

Later in the day, seeing as the weather was still good (and I had to make the most of every second of daylight and sunshine), I decided to do the Lighthouse Walk. I had purchased a great little guidebook from a local shop, where a lady told me it was the place to go to see the sunset. It didn’t look too far, but looks can be deceiving! I knew the direction I was heading as I could see Peninnis Head Lighthouse in front of me, but it took longer than I expected. Once I reached it and saw how far it still was back to Hugh Town and civilization, I was rather worried.
Night was drawing in! Direction wise there was no problem – it was the paths! The walk took me along the jagged coast, up and down cliff paths, along the edge of sheer drops; sometimes there was no path to follow. I was so relieved when I managed to reach the first of the houses as I approached the town, then I could slow down and enjoy the last rays of the day. Also there were some more very interesting plants for sale along the way, I would worry how I was going to get them home later!




Next morning was another glorious day. I felt so very lucky! After breakfast I headed to the harbour. Every morning, weather permitting, crowds of people would line the harbour walls at the appropriate place, waiting for the boat (not ship) that would take them to their chosen island. At 10am these boats would take tourists as well as locals (with shopping, parcels and mail) to the other islands that made up the archipelago. I had opted for the Island of St. Martins; the pictures of endless silver beaches were what had appealed the most. It was described as the most secluded, tranquil and picturesque of all the islands, and it promised to look its best in the day’s sunshine. As the boat approached the St Martins, I could see just how remote and quaint it really was – and there was only a small wooden pier at which to disembark.  My plan was to walk the 6-mile coastal path, almost the entire way around the island.


The path was easily marked, the land was reasonably flat, the grass was short, the temperature was just perfect and the views were to die for. This place was everything I had expected – and more. There were what appeared to be, hundreds of small islands rising out of the calm, turquoise water – which was glistening in the sunshine. There were endless swathes of purple heather making the perfect picture.





I passed beach after beach, each one deserted; I headed first to St Martin’s head and then along the northern coast, which appeared to be almost all pure white sand. I scrambled down through the waist high bracken; I just had to have a paddle in the clear, calm waters. It was one of the highlights of my day; I just daren’t sit down too long.


I didn’t know how long it was going to take me to walk all the way around and there was only one ferry back mid afternoon. The photos of this area were amazing – as you will see. The west section of the island was totally different; there were cliffs, rocks and the islands off its coast were bleak and intimidating. This whole area had been beaten by the Atlantic weather, by storms, gales and rain. I headed inland towards the centre of the island, to the sparsely populated Middle Town and then down the hill to Lower Town.
What easy-to-remember names. I forgot to say that I arrived at the hamlet known as Higher Town. It had all been a wonderful experience, the first time that I had ever walked further than around my local town; as well as doing it by myself. The entire day had been amazing, start to finish, not once had I felt threatened, intimidated, lost or lonely. I was beaming! After a well-deserved cup of tea and a late lunch, I caught the boat back to St Mary’s. The sea was slightly rougher than the morning’s crossing, but I was so enthralled with my achievement – that I hardly noticed.


When I arrived back, there was a carnival on the beach, organised by the local lifeboat crew. The atmosphere was completely opposite to how it had been the rest of my day, but the contrast was refreshing – as was the Cornish ice cream that I enjoyed whilst watching the sun go down.







My last full day arrived and the weather wasn’t what I wanted it to be. But as I only had one day left, determined to make the most of every second of it – I opted for the Three Island Cruise. The boat wasn’t as big as I was expecting it to be, the wind and waves threw it about and I felt dreadfully ill.

By the time I reached the island of Bryher, I wondered how I was ever going to get back to St Mary’s – I didn’t want to get on a boat ever again. Bryher is a small island, it had several houses and farm buildings huddled around it’s centre and desolate coastal paths all the way around. The west coast is renowned for Hell Bay, a place where Atlantic gales lash the coast, whereas the east (where we disembarked) was far more sheltered – that is where I headed for. I ate a sandwich, (shared it with the local sparrows actually) and tried to gather myself – stop my head from spinning.
I could see our next island, it didn’t look far; and gradually I started to feel more like myself again. Sure enough, the trip to Tresco only took a few minutes and by the time we got there, the sunshine had arrived too. I was so glad, this was the highlight of my day and I didn’t want the weather to spoil it.




Due to the tides, the boat dropped me at a different place to where it was going to pick me up in three hours; so there wasn’t a moment to lose. I headed past the gallery, the beach and the Great Pool on my way to the Tresco Abbey Gardens. What gardens they were! There were paths leading up to terraces, and more terraces and even higher terraces.

Each one was an explosion of colour. I have never before seen such endless displays of vivid orange, pink, red and purple flowers that overlooked more plants below them. There were themed areas dedicated to Australia, South America, California, New Zealand and many other countries. Enjoying exceptionally long hours of sunshine and the warmth of the Gulf Stream, the tropical plants here were thriving like I had never imagined.


Throughout the colourful beds, there were remnants of the old Abbey, sculptures and figureheads from ancient shipwrecks. The views out over the treetops to the ocean and distant island were amazing. This was such an exotic garden - like no other in Britain. I completely fell in love with Tresco gardens; I had never seen anywhere so colourful or so many tropical species in one place and I particularly loved the different types of Protea from South Africa.

I remembered the taxi driver’s words and put a few small cuttings in my empty crisp packet – hoping that they would survive until I got home. After walking every inch of the garden I was ready for rest, so I sat in the sunshine and had a cuppa before heading off to the quayside. I was dreading this part again – it was a long way to St Agnes and the sea was dark and uninviting. I convinced myself that I was going to be all right, I focused ahead, had the wind in my face and arrived at St Agnes refreshed – albeit windswept and covered in salt spray.

I was delightfully surprised at this small island and as we approached it, the sea seemed to smooth itself ahead of us, and the sun came back out. There wasn’t a lot that I wanted to see on St Agnes, most people headed for a drink of real ale at the Turks Head (Britain’s most southerly pub), but I knew where I wanted to go. I headed for another Bar! This was a white sand bar that joined St Agnes to Gugh. The ocean lapped up at each side of this sand bar; that was covered in of millions of small shells – it was the most picturesque area.
Beyond that I wandered through tall grass and bracken to sit and watch flocks of seabirds on the rocky outcrops on the far side of the island. It was remote, peaceful, wild - but beautiful. I really did feel that I had experienced so much variety in my Day of Three Islands. I knew that there was much more to see and to explore – but not this time. As the time approached to meet back at the boat, I hurried back to the picturesque harbour – what a glorious sight. The turquoise water actually looked inviting this time, you could have been on a tropical island, in the Indian Ocean; here it appeared nothing like it was earlier in the day.


It certainly bought a smile to my face, all the way back to St Mary’s. After a last wander along the town’s beach, watching the sunset behind the islands, I headed back to my guesthouse. I now had to pack, and the cuttings and small plants I had bought were my priority. I had to totally wrap each one up (pot, plant and soil) in paper and then a plastic bag – hoping that they would survive a morning inside my small case. I was sad to be leaving this beautiful place, it had been everything I wanted it to be and I wish that I had booked for longer. But it had been a stepping-stone for me – and there would always be another time!


I hope that you have enjoyed my short trip to this beautiful place - please check out my other trips and let me know if you have any questions. There are many more to come!

Many thanks

Lynne



For those of you who love flowers..........................................................