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.
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 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 24 July 1979:
We went out with Garçon in the car quite early and went south. We visited Gris Gris and Telfair Gardens and then we met Janee (Garçon‘s wife) from the hospital nearby (she is a doctor)…
The rocks at Gris-Gris
Then we all went to Grand Bassin and visited Janee’s sister. Then we all went home [Garçon and Janee’s house in Rose Hill], had dinner here and then Anil and I went out for a walk and met some Creoles and had a good time.
Ganga Talao – commonly known as Grand Bassin
Mercifully there is no photographic evidence of me and Anil having a good time with the Creoles we met. I’m going to guess that it involved drinking rum and I suspect the use of some “whacky backy”in less legal circumstances than our first foray into such herbal remedies, at a wedding a few days earlier.
Writing some 40 years later, in July 2019, I believe the politically correct term for “Creoles” is “Mauritians of African Origin”.
I wrote letters to mum and dad which doubled as my diary/travelogue. Here is a scan followed by a transcript of the first of them, which relates to 16 July 1979.
For those who struggle to read my beautiful manuscript, here is a dictated transcription:
Dear Ma and pa,
Well here I am, in Mauritius. It’s 7:15 AM and the sun will soon be making its presence felt. We are right at the tail end of the wintry weather (that means cold nights), but wrapped up in a blanket I was quite warm enough, so the assurance that I won’t need the blanket for much longer is quite irrelevant. Mindyou, I’d have slept like a log through anything after getting about half an hours sleep on the plane.
The flight was most enjoyable. At Heathrow we met a Biltoo, Arriss, who travelled with us and being in aviation he knows the ropes. Bahrain, our first stop (at 1:45 GMT 3:45 Bahrain time) was smelly, with workers sleeping around on the airport floors etc.
Seychelles wouldn’t let us off, as it was raining when we stopped there, but the weather in Mauritius was lovely.
We arrived at 11:15 GMT, 2:15 Mauritius time and were met by Marraz (whose home I am in now) Garçon (with chauffeur to take all our bags) and Narrain (whose wife is one of Bill’s sisters). Of course they brought their families with them, (except Narrain as there was no room to 6 kids). First of all we drove to Garçon’s house.
The first thing that struck me on the journey was the extreme poverty. People living in rusty shacks etc. The second thing was the wonderful smell of the island, this mainly caused by sugar cane.
Garçon’s house at Rose Hill is like a mansion. We may stay there for a while. We quickly moved on to Narrain’s house – that was when we met Tiffin (Bill’s sister) and the six children. Then we went to Marraz’s house. Marraz has pull here, so the words Marraz Biltoo got us straight through customs etc. at the airport.
That evening we were visited by the Anglican priest from Catford [Lynford Smith] who I recognise and who recognises me. He says you can’t possibly see Mauritius unless you live with Mauritian people for some time, like I’m doing.
Anyway I’ll be in touch soon, lots of love Ian.
PS Please keep my letters as I’m too busy to write everything down for you and keep a diary
I refer to Anil’s dad as “Bill” in these letters, but I remember him as Dat (or Dutt) and I am pretty sure everyone in Mauritius called him Dat. Perhaps Bill was his nickname or simplified name in England.
This photo, taken later in the holiday, shows the people named in that first letter and some more. Left to right: Anil, Marraz, Anandani (in front of Marraz), Dat (Bill), Narrain (sitting in front of Dat), Garçon, Janee, Tiffin.
