…I had a memory flash that Fran had written to me while I was in Mauritius.
I was very good about keeping the correspondence I received while there (in contrast with most other hand-written correspondence I received over the years), so I was able easily to find the following letter.
I think it is an utterly charming letter and I think Fran thought so too…
…at least, she did grant me permission to upload it to Ogblog, which is a good sign…
…and she still seems to be talking to me.
Gosh I recall those Airmail letters. A fixed amount of space which seemed like a massive space to fill, until one got going and then ran out of space – pretty much always.
Please note how very legible Fran’s handwriting is compared with mine. Who’d have thought back then and/or from the written evidence that Fran would end up making her living as a medic (dentist), while I would end up making much of my living from writing.
An overview of my 1979 trip to Mauritius, courtesy of the wonderfully hospitable Biltoo family, can be found by clicking here or below:
Here is an extract from my tenth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 7 August 1979:
As you may tell from the date my diary is a little behind again, and it was only the receiving of two letters from you today that reminded me. I think that the last time I wrote was the morning of the seventh or the evening of the six it doesn’t really matter.
You are my greatest fan; three letters and not one complaint about my handwriting. It is atrocious I admit.
Anyway the morning of the seventh Anil and I went shopping in Rose Hill about thrice, in short bursts. Anil (as usual) has almost completely finished ploughing through his money, and his only hope is that he wins at the races on Sunday!! Last Sunday, Garçon, who is in the know, made a few hundred pounds, so Anil’s got the bug! If it’s one of Garçon’s bad weeks, he’s [Anil’s] had it!!!
In the afternoon we went to Shahil’s for tea and dinner, and then a snap decision to stay the night, which was good fun, but a late night.
Shahil Trying To Look CoolAnil, Shahil & Me. Not a great photograph. I have just spotted the two-finger signal from Shahil above Anil’s head, 40 years later.Dutt (Bill), Anil, Shahil, Nanda, Shahil & Nanda’s parents and their two younger siblings(I think I’m calling all of this but corrections welcomed): Left to Right: Baby, Shahil, Min, Anil, Nanda
Anil decided to have one of his respiratory attacks (not quite asthma but nearly) that (of course, seeing as he was separated from his tablets) meant he spent the whole night wheezing. He is still ill, I’m afraid to say and was very irritable today, as he was confined to barracks on his birthday, but that’s another story..
An overview of my 1979 trip to Mauritius, courtesy of the wonderfully hospitable Biltoo family, can be found by clicking here or below:
Here is an extract from my ninth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 6 August 1979:
Yesterday we went shopping in the morning and in the afternoon we went to Pamplemousses [Botanical] Garden for a long look around and a routing of my film stock. It’s beautiful there, as you will see.
Here is a link to the 8mm film I took in Mauritius – much of it in those Botanical Gardens:
On the way back we stopped off at one of these real Mauritian grotty cafés for tea (cross fingers for the tummy, folks). Actually my time ain’t been too bad but the past couple of days it’s been a bit on the blink.
Anyway, this is probably the second last letter you get before I get back. By the time you read this, I should be back in three or four days, so you should be getting letters right up until my glorious return. And don’t bother dusting the place anymore because I AM GOING TO BE BACK WITH A VENGEANCE, so run for it while you can.
Hope all is well, see you very soon, Ian the good boy (it doesn’t fit in rhyme)
An overview of my 1979 trip to Mauritius, courtesy of the wonderfully hospitable Biltoo family, can be found by clicking here or below:
Here is an extract from my ninth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 5 August 1979:
This morning we got ready to leave, which we will do straight after lunch. I won’t be too sad to leave, as although it has made a real break there has not been all that much to do here and I look forward to getting back to bustling, jolly town life.
7 August 1979:
Well straight after lunch that day we did leave and got back about 3 o’clock to find the house seeming stale. It was almost like returning home but in a strange sort of way.
Welcome home
Garçon went over to Marraz’s – Marraz was supposed to come to dinner. He didn’t come. But Garçon brought some letters for me including yours and Gillian’s (which was like both sides of the same story from different angles). I get the impression that Gillian and friend must have wandered off, because Rebecca is very reliable as far as that sort of thing is concerned.
I knew that you hadn’t heard from me as early as the 25th, as Mrs B told Mr B you’ve got your first on 26. It does take as long as 10 days sometimes, and sometimes only 5 or 6. You also tend to get letters in bulk, so I’m told.
Anyway, we had dinner with Janee’s brother that night and turned in early.
An overview of my 1979 trip to Mauritius, courtesy of the wonderfully hospitable Biltoo family, can be found by clicking here or below:
Here is an extract from my ninth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 4 August 1979:
Here is news of yesterday. We did not go into town yesterday, but had another lazy day. In the evening Janee’s sister and brother-in-law came to dinner which was pleasant. Anil and I both had an early night as Anil had an asthma attack and I felt a slight cold coming on. It doesn’t seem to have materialised very much today, however, and I’m beginning to think it may just be a relaxed throat or something.
An overview of my 1979 trip to Mauritius, courtesy of the wonderfully hospitable Biltoo family, can be found by clicking here or below:
Here is an extract from my eighth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 3 August 1979:
Today yet again we did an awful lot of nothing, with nothing of note happening at all.
Tomorrow I think we’re going back into town for the afternoon or something; I don’t really know
I’ll use this “lot of nothing” day as an excuse to put up several pictures of the Biltoo family down south.
Anil, enjoying doing an awful lot of nothingAn awful lot of cards – Manjula, Anil and (guessing) the hand of JaneeManjula and VanishaJanee and GarçonI bet Janee really appreciated me taking this photo
An overview of my 1979 trip to Mauritius, courtesy of the wonderfully hospitable Biltoo family, can be found by clicking here or below:
Here is an extract from my eighth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 2 August 1979:
Yesterday we went to the Delaître’s house. The reason that we were invited really was that they have three sons of our own age, (18, 17, 16). The eldest boy has a dark room at home, and not only is photography a common interest… wait for it… he’s an ardent Zionist (shock horror) yes he definitely .wants to live in Israel and feels that that country is his calling. Unusual to say the least. (How many other Christian Mauritians are Zionists, I wonder?) Anyway, that aside, all in all we had a fascinating day and evening there.
I have two strong recollections about our time with the Delaître family. The first relates to the conversations about Israel and Zionism with the son. My political awakening had started around that year and I was questioning much about the status quo. Anil and I had several long discussions about politics before Mauritius and a great many while there. So I recall finding myself, in conversation with young Monsieur Delaître, arguing an equivocal line about Israel and the policies of its relatively new, hawkish government. I especially remember a conversation with Anil afterwards, in which we both bemoaned the impracticality of the more extreme positions, in which one side repeatedly questioned or denied Israel’s right to exist, while the more hawkish Israel-supporting line seemed immune to calls for Palestinian self-determination and/or the notion of land for peace, despite that approach seemingly having succeeded with the Israel/Egypt peace accord.
Ardently flared, those jeans.
The second recollection was later in the day, as we gathered around the Delaître television to see the news. The father, Jean Delaître, who was the head of the Mauritian Broadcasting Corporation, had been severely criticised by the opposition party for something or other to do with sport. I think it was to do with broadcasting a sport that wasn’t boycotting South African participants sufficiently and there was even a risk that Mauritius might be excluded from some pan-African games unless it complied, as a nation, more comprehensively in anti-apartheid boycotts. Something like that.
The reason I recall it so clearly is that the news broadcast explained the story one way and then a few minutes later, when Jean Delaître got home, he explained the story from his own perspective, not least the complex web of interests and opinions he needed to try to accommodate whenever he makes a decision. I remember finding that experience very interesting and enlightening. I also clearly remember thinking that it was far too elaborate a story to write up in one of my letters.
