Here is an extract from my seventh letter, which is in effect my diary entry for daytime 31 July 1979:
Today, also, we spent the day playing Carrom, dominoes and with the children and exploring.
This week is supposed to be a lazy week, so there won’t be much to report I shouldn’t think. Plus don’t expect a letter within the next couple of days but in about a week, unless of course we do decide to do something worthy of report.
At the moment one of the kids is throwing a tantrum and my ears ache. But all in all I’m having a great time. So see you soon, lots of love, Ian.
I wonder whether it was Manjula or Vanisha in tantrum mode that day?
Left to right: Garçon, Manjula, Janee, Anil, Vanisha, Dat (Bill)
Here is an extract from my seventh letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 30 July 1979:
Yesterday, we moved south. It took two journeys to get everything down and I was in shift two, thus I didn’t get there until lunchtime. I had time, thus, for a quick wander around Rose Hill.
The summer bungalow is really beautiful down here, and the rocks are great for exploring. The sea is too strong to swim in, though, so we have to go about half to 3/4 of a mile for safe beach.
We spent the afternoon and evening playing carrom and dominoes and exploring rocks.
Here is an extract from my seventh letter, which is in effect my diary entry for the evening of 28 July 1979:
How’s things? I hear that by last Wednesday (25th) you have only received one letter. By now (31st) you should have received three, and be well satisfied.
Anyway here’s the news. That Saturday that I wrote to you (28th) I mentioned that that evening I was going to some sort of dinner dance at Trou aux Biches. I found out after I finished that it was for doctors – Janee (Garçon’s wife) got us the invitations. Trou aux Biches is one of those really posh 5-star hotels, swarming with Americans et cetera, and the meal was absolutely superb.
Doctors dining at Trou aux Biches
The dance too was good, and Anil and I learnt the sega, the traditional local dance in which you “shake it all about” and so on.
This Cousin Cousine sega record was a major part of the soundtrack of our visit.
https://youtu.be/-Esa8G0x3Wo
This video shows the sega dance in all its “shake it all about” glory
Here is an extract from my sixth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 27 July 1979:
Yesterday we went to Narrain’s for the day and had arranged to stay at Marraz’s the night. Narrain insisted that we stay the night however, so during one of our outings we popped to Marraz’s and cancelled. In the morning, Mim took us shopping in Vacoas. In the afternoon Anil – that is the cousin of the Anil that you know and love – took us to Tamarind Falls and its water reservoir for hydroelectric power. Then we went home very tired so just had a brief walk after dinner and slept.
Two Anils. Anil Biltoo (left) and Anil’s Cousin Anil (right).
Here is an extract from my sixth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 26 July 1979:
I’m a couple of days behind now, as you’ll realise when I explain what happened. Today we went south, visiting all sorts of interesting places there. Again Garçon couldn’t come so again we took picnic lunch and chauffeur. the thing was, the next door neighbour passed away in the early hours so we had to return early for the levayah [funeral]. Like Jews, Hindus insist on burial [sic] very quickly, usually within 24 hours. Anyway, we went to Chamarel again and also Baie du Cap by the sea where we took lunch. Then came home for the funeral (or rather, watched it from the house) and then (it was evening by then) got ready for dinner. Lynford Smith [Anglican Priest from Vacoas] came for dinner, which made for quite a pleasurable evening.
Chamarel – probably. I didn’t label photos much back then.
I’m sure my reference to “burial” is an error; the funeral will have been a cremation. But my point about rapidity was accurate.
I seemed to have got ever so used to being chauffeured around ever so quickly, once we got to Garçon and Janee’s place.
Here is an extract from my sixth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 25 July 1979:
Today was even more interesting [than 24 July]. We went north today, but Garçon couldn’t come so we took the chauffeur. We went to see the largest sugar factory in the world; Flacq Union – and saw the town of Flacq…
Anil with sugar cane…but probably taken before the day we went to Flacq
I think that massive old sugar factory in Flacq must have closed down by now. Possibly just as well; it didn’t look very “health and safety” as I recall it. But fear not, Alteo, for example, still refines plenty of sugar in Mauritius 40 years later.
I’m pretty sure Marraz was with us that day and I’m pretty sure it was him who made some very gut-wrenching remarks about the only possible method for a sugar factory worker to take a piss if he got caught short while up on that enormous factory rigging. “why do you think demerara sugar looks the way it does?”, said Marraz. I’ve never been able to look at demerara again without thinking of that factory and that remark.
…and went to Belmar Plage [sic] where we bathed and had picnic lunch. Then we went to Pamplemousses Gardens (THE BOTANICAL GARDENS) for a brief visit to “sus the place out”. We intend to spend a full-half day or whole day there photographing and observing. We returned [to Rose Hill], prepared for dinner and then went to Roy’s for dinner. (Roy is Jan Sooknah’s wife’s brother – GET IT???) where we had a very pleasant evening.
Anil bathing, possibly Belle Mare. Not labelled.
“Belmar Plage” must refer to Belle Mare Plage, which is now (40 years later) a fancy-shmancy resort, like so much of Mauritius now. It was just a nice beach back then.
Another topic from the Overcrowded Barracoon came up that day, which affected me deeply and triggered an element of political alertness in me that remains to this day.
As we drove around the coast along the Flacq peninsula, we drove near Le Saint Géran.
“See that hotel over there”, said Marraz to me.
“That hotel is run by a South African Company on an apartheid basis. You could walk through the front door and be served. We could only enter through the back door and could only serve people like you.”
“But that’s outrageous”, I said.
“That’s what apartheid is”, said Marraz, “and our lousy government is letting the South African’s treat our country as an offshoot of their corrupt South African regime.”
That conversation really brought home to me what apartheid was. Before then, I’d never really given it a great deal of thought before. It hadn’t really touched my life, I suppose. The little I knew of it, I realised it was bad. Also that it was stopping a darned good cricket team from playing international cricket. But on my return from Mauritius, I found myself quite avidly anti-apartheid. I switched away from Barclays Bank as soon as I was able and abstained from South African fruit and wine until apartheid was over.
Here is an extract from my fifth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 23 July 1979:
Well here’s what happened yesterday. We completed the move to Garçon‘s house in the morning, had lunch at Garçon’s (after a little shopping in Rose Hill where Anil bought a Chinese trinket box). Then we went in the afternoon for a drive around some of the sites of Rose Hill. We went to Balfour Garden, where there is a beautiful view of waterfalls and they have giant tortoises.
Unlabelled – guessing Balfour Garden
We also went to the Divine Life Society building (a place for weirdos I think).
We then drove to Marraz’s to collect the last of the stuff and then drove to Narrain’s, where we stayed, went for a walk, and had dinner. We then went home and I went to bed quite early and slept well. Today we are seeing some more interesting sites, so tune in to tomorrow’s exciting episode of: – Anyway, see you soon, lots of love, hope all is well Ian H (PS all mail still goes to the same place)
Here is an extract from my fifth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 22 July 1979:
Dear parents,
Just thought I’d let you know that all is okay and tell you what happened yesterday. Garçon came in the morning and collected us, along with all our luggage except for one night necessities, as we stayed at Marraz’s last night, to move to Garçon’s this morning.
We went to his house for lunch and then went on to the races. Garçon is an expert, wagers large amounts (and wins large amounts). We youngsters just took his tips for the low stake game, so we made pence rather than pounds (although Anil made about 5 pounds as he bet a large amount and won on the last race).
Champ de Mars Racecourse
Marvellous when the horses get into the final straight. Everyone gets really excited and jumps up and down.
We then went on to the home of Buddu, the husband of Bill’s cousin. Buddu own cinemas and is so rich it’s coming out of his ears. Their house is like your description of Stella’s in Bournemouth – like an antique shop. We had supper there and returned. We were so tired, we both lay down for a moment (at 9:45) and I didn’t wake up until 12:45, when I got into my pyjamas, got into bed and slept like a log.
