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At Rodriguez for the opening of my uncles giant tortoise reserve, their happened to be the Mrs Rodriguez contest on at the hotel we stayed at.
My cousin Nathan got talking to Mrs Mauritius 2006 (Melody), and before you know it she came with us to the holiday house...
* Jeremy
* Me
* Raishad Boodhoo
* Jacob
Raishad is a Muslim who plaid soccer for Mauritius in the 1980's; and also coached both of my cousins - Jeremy and Jacob. He makes jewellery as his main source of income, something that he has done for many years; after the insistence of his parents, who were worried that their soccer-mad son may not have a real career to fall-back-on. For this reason he began to take jewelery classes; something he grew to love.
Raishad is making me some pendants that i can't wait to pick-up. 2 lockets, and a star-of-David.
...Not only is Raishad a nice guy who showed me his old soccer photos and took over 2 hours discussing the designs i wanted, but he is also that little bit crazy. He threatened to beat-me-up if i continued to let my cousins smoke, after which he gave my ass a rather hard, but playful, hit.
Raishad also asked me over to dinner this week; so he must have taken to me in one way or another. I told him it would be an honour. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shot of Port Louis, the capitol of Mauritius (notice the KFC add)
Port Louis is a mixture of the old-style buildings you can see in the foreground, as well as newer development such as the sky-scraper visible in the back-ground.
As Mauritius switches from a country reliant on sugar-cane, to a tourist, business, and trade hub; more and more of the simple and elegant 1-storey-corrugated-iron-and-brick buildings are being torn-down. To be replaced with multi-storey concrete monsters.
The price of progress i guess; says the upper-middle-class man from Australia; who is well aware of the irony. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The results of a days deep-sea fishing 9 kms of the coast of Rodriguez.
I began to bring in the sail-fish that you can see hanging, but after about 15 minutes of arm-pulling pain, i passed the line over to Jeremy for a bit; and finally to Nathan who finished bringing it in. Jeremy had to hit it over the head with a wooden mallet about 3 times before it died.
The sail fish is one of the most amazing creatures i have ever seen; and it uses its long, hard nose to stun its prey, before it devours it.
The sail fish in the photo weighed 42 kgs; and almost ripped my arms off as i reeled it in. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A Mauritian cop at the opening of my uncles Tortoise reserve in Rodriguez.
Speaks for itself... and if not.................................................... ALL COPS LIKE FREE FOOD.
Well i have no idea why, but PHOTOBUCKET is taking ages to load, so i can't seem to put up any photos.
LAME!!!
Here is a quick list of things:
* ROTTI - this Indian-type role that you can buy for about 10cents that melts in your mouth
* MIN FRET - fried noodle dish that is a Mauritian staple. Similar to hokkein noodles, but served with chili and garlic sauce. Now one of my favourite foods ever
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Otherwise there has been so much that would be better explained with photos. So fingers crossed i can get it to work.
Basically Mauritius is an island paradise.
The bird is WOODY, my Uncle's pet parrot who lives in the dining room. She is crazy as all hell, having created a nest in a droor that she guards viciously. Fingers beware.
This is STEVE. He likes Chelsea soccer club and Rambo movies. He can be reached at:
Trou D'eau Douce; 7-Chemins; Mouncan; Payatanbee.
...if you want to send him anything.
The guy in the background is Jimmy, our boat driver at the beach-house. What's weird is that all the boat drivers here seem to be rastas; must be the calming influence of the water; and all the opportunities for action with the female tourists.
We went fishing...
In front of virtually every house in Mauritius is a shrine - Christian, Hindu or Muslim. I have attached this because it is black Jesus! Look closely.
Yesterday I decided to go for a walk through Trou D'eau Douce - a town were one of my aunt and uncle's holiday houses is. It is a beautiful town, a town that services many of the 5-star hotels dotting the coast nearby. A town mostly full of creole-Christian workers. I have wondered for about 30 minutes through the streets when i hear voices coming from inside a shop.
"Come, Come"
I look inside and see a man in a Chelsea soccer-team t-shirt holding a beer who continues to call.
"Come, Come"
I decide to enter the shop, my head ringing with my uncle's tales of slain tourists.
The man in the Chelsea top introduces himself as Steve; and asks if i would like a drink. He buys me a Fanta, and in return i give him and his buddies - there was the shop-keep and 4 others calmly shooting-the-breeze inside - a cigarette each.
In an attempt to break the ice, i ask Steve and the shop owner how tourists are regarded in Mauritius.
"We must like tourist;" they both say in broken English, gesturing towards the till...
The tourist district/capital here is like another world.
Un-painted concrete bunkers turn to colonial mansions, Western-style houses and huge shopping centres. That's the tourist doller for you.
As we drove through last night on our way clubbing we pass a huge walled-off pile of rubble
"I was out clubbing 50-metres away from here when it blew-up;" my cousin tells me.
"The talk is that the owner was going broke and suddenly the shopping-centre blew-up because of a faulty gas leak, coincidence?"
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I look to the ground of the club, and see sand. Look at the faces of the patrons and i see a sea of white with dapples of black (the EXACT opposite of the rest of the island). Listen to the DJ spin 7 year old Nelly tracks. Realise by looking at jaws and chests that the average age of the punters is 16 or so. Place my arm around Jacob my cousin, saunter to the bar....
2 shots of something with Tobasco, as well as a beer is in front of me. I shoot the shots and begin sipping the beer. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Well i arrived. And its all warm and sunny.
One thing to note is that the buildings here are mostly made of concrete. Unpainted, grey, ugly; concrete.
My cousins and uncle tell me their is some weird tax loop-whole whereby an unpainted house is not "completed", and thereby not liable for certain taxes. Hmmmm. In my opinion the unpainted ones should be taxed more, and the brighter the colour, the less tax one pays; with any fleuro colour creating a tax-free house.
I know it's not practical, but fuck, it would look damn cool.
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