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 “Remaining Journal”, which is in effect my diary entry for 17 August 1979 – my last diary entry written during the Mauritius trip.
Friday 17th of August 1979 –
Having stayed at Marraz’s, we went on a grand family picnic at Palmar (and Belle Mare). Had a terrific time there and in the evening we ended up with a sort of improvised party with Janee’s nephews, nieces and cousins. We stayed at Garçon’s last night, with a mind to finishing our shopping in Curepipe with the help the chauffeur.
Even now, with dozens of hotels along that coast, both Palmarand Belle Mare still have public beaches, where lovely people such as the Biltoos and their extended families might well still party, as we did.
This looks like Manjula’s belated birthday party. Whether this is the same as the “impromptu evening party” at the end of our trip or not I cannot be 100% sure, but based on other diary entries mentioning its postponement several times, I think it might well beManjula looks as though she has been at her daddy’s bottle of rum, but perhaps she was just tired out from all the excitement of the day.
Elements of the beach party – playing ball games, dancing, eating and generally having a good time – are charmingly recorded on cine film – to be seen towards the end of this video – c8:30 to c11:15
These gatherings/parties at the end of our stay were a highlight among many highlights for me – the culmination of unforgettable and life-forming experiences over five weeks in Mauritius.
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 “Remaining Journal”, which is in effect my diary entry for 16 August 1979.
Thursday 16th of August 1979 –
Went out shopping with Ahalia (bought a tablecloth and one or two gifts). Moved back to Marraz’s about noon, whiled away the afternoon and in the evening we had a dinner party there ( Garçon, Janee and kids, Narrain, Tiffin and most of their kids).
Standing Left To Right: Anil Gooly, Tiffin Gooly, Narrain Gooly…the other five are all Anil Gooly’s siblingsSame as above with Dat Biltoo, Me, Anil Biltoo and the family dog included. Goodness knows who took the picture. I’ll guess Marraz
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 “Remaining Journal”, which is in effect my diary entry for 12 August 1979.
Sunday 12th of August 1979
Stayed at Marraz’s last night, went to Garçon’s in morning for lunch and went on to the races with Shan (sports editor of Le Mauricien) who took us (Anil and I) into the press box. We didn’t do very well at the races, but anyway, we went back to Marraz’s for dinner and the night.
I was wondering how I got such a good spot for this photo
Shan Ip Ting Wah was still hanging around the Mauritius Turf Club as recently as 2016 (interview in French/Creole):
One thing I do recall very clearly was a difference of opinion between Marraz and Garçon in the matter of introducing me and Anil to the “joys” of horse racing. Garçon was a real fan of the racing, as evidenced by much of his letter to me a couple of months later:
Marraz was not keen on racing…or at least not keen to initiate a couple of 16/17 year old lads into the scene. I recall Marraz being pleased when he learned that we had not done well that day and that he issued a stark warning about gambling.
In my case, the Marraz line of argument won. I had been a little uneasy about gambling on both of our visits to the racecourse in Mauritius and never really got the bug for it. But I can see it as a fun day out and we have several times organised days at the races for our staff – e.g. this one:
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 9 August 1979:
Today (Anil’s birthday) we were supposed to walk up one of the Mauritian mountains with Shahil, but we didn’t go of course (Anil being ill).
This afternoon I went on a Jew hunt alone to Port Louis but was unsuccessful. The name and address I’ve been given is of (I found out today) a very important man, so I’m returning there tomorrow (as he was out today). I have my doubts as to whether he’ll want to see me. If he has rejected Judaism (which seems possible) he won’t be at all interested in helping me. He may be a very helpful person, however.
I had better explain at this juncture why on earth I went Jew hunting in Port Louis. A few days before I set off for Mauritius, I had been co-opted onto the BBYO National Executive as the National Magazine Editor, so I was very keen to come up with at least one story with a Jewish angle while I was on my travels. This sole lead (did I pick it up from the Delaître family? – seems likely) actually proved extremely fruitful in the end, but my mother threw out my magazine copies and I have a dreadful feeling I stored my hand-written notes with my copy of the final printed magazine. If so, I am probably, to use the vernacular, in shtuk – that fascinating interview might be lost in the mists of time.
This evening we went to Marraz’s for dinner and although he says otherwise I think Anil’s condition is worsening. It was at Marraz’s I got your letter. What a coincidence meeting Arriss’s friend!!
You haven’t much to tell me about life in Streatham, life in Ilford, Woodford, Pinner and [somewhere else] is also still the same. I’m getting lots of letters. It’s good because from tonight onwards it won’t be worth writing, so it’s no more writing, just reading (which you know I prefer!!!). As for discussions on Judaism, it isn’t (I don’t think) quite as you gathered. On hearing that I’m Jewish most people want to know what it is.
Talking about religion, I forgot to mention that yesterday was Rakhi. I was daubed with flour, sprinkled with flowers, and given wrist bands to wear!! (The bad part oif the ceremony is having to give money to the givers!!).
This is your last letter, so make the most of it, and from now on I will keep my diary on notepaper for you to read (I suppose) tomorrow or the next day (from the time you read this).
See you very soon, love Ian
Me and Nanda, Shahil’s sister. The “me” bit of this picture became Ged Ladd’s avatar.
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 8 August 1979:
We returned to Garçon’s early, and went on another photogenic trip north, this time along the coast. It was a long trip, which helped Anil not one bit.
That afternoon and evening Anil slept and in the evening Bill, Garçon and Janee went to the pictures (French) and I stayed in alone.
Of course, one of the occasional electrical cuts had to happen that evening, and I didn’t know where the candles were. So I stumbled (literally) to the rear house (I’ll explain that better on my return) where they gave me some candles, and Sanjay (Janee’s nephew) came in to keep me company.
(Change of pen please maestro […my writing was getting faint…] – that’s better!!!)
He’s only 11, and speaks no English, so two hours of conversation with him in French was my first real attempt to get my rusty cogs in motion. He says my accent is good and that I speak very well!!! I’m not so sure.
I’m fairly sure Sanjay is the little fella front between Anil and Dutt. Vanisha on Anil and Dutt’s shoulders.
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.
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 fourth letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 20 July 1979:
Dear folks,
Here’s news of yesterday. In the morning we went to Lynford Smiths. At first he was out, so we waited for him. The maid (who doesn’t speak English) answered the phone and called me to take a message. I found out during the course of the conversation that I was speaking to Trevor Huddleston (the Bish O’Maurish).
Actually Trevor Huddleston was the Archbishop of the Indian Ocean, but what did I know of Archbishops back then?
More important than the mundane conversation I had with that great anti-apartheid campaigner that day, was the more general political awakening I had, while I was in Mauritius for those five weeks, to the evils of such racism. More on that anon.
Anyway, then we went to Flic-en-Flac (the seaside) where we swam. Marraz and I snorkelled and we had lunch. Then we came home and got ready for dinner; we were going to Jan’s, so we dressed smartly. We had a wonderful discussion and meal there.
Here is an extract from my third letter, which is in effect my diary entry for 19 July 1979:
Okay folks it’s tonight in fact and we are not going anywhere else so here is the news from today. This morning we wrote some letters and went out. We met one of our new found friends who works in the bakery and he showed us around that. Then we returned home, had lunch, and the Marraz took us to see the sugar plant – a most interesting sight, sweet!!?
Then we came home to meet Jan Sooknah. Marraz and Jan play football for a club team and we four, along with Bhavesh (Marraz’s eldest son) went there. Marraz is a superb player. He used to play for a first division team and without him his team would never have drawn two-all. Jan is okay but too fat!!!
Marraz, Anandani and Bhavesh BiltooBhavesh showing his best for the camera
Then we went home for supper, which was a superb curry. The food is all marvellous here. Then Anil and I went for a walk down to Lynford Smith’s, but he was out so we came home again.
A bit of bad news. We saw a beautiful bird out of the window and Marraz immediately went and got his own beautiful pair of binoculars: good job I hadn’t given him those binos earlier. What I plan to do is to bring home the binos and buy something here. In a way it is good, as Marraz has no car at the moment as it is being repaired, so plans have been changed and we will stay with lots of other relatives during the five weeks, so I can buy several small gifts.
Anyway, see you soon, lots of love, Ian
I think this might have also been the day that I bought some hand-crafted silver earrings for Grandma Anne. I wanted to get her an especially nice present, as she had always been very generous to me and in fact might (on reflection) have part-funded my flight to Mauritius.
It was an in-joke in the Harris family that Grandma Anne never really liked the presents she was given and that she had a trunk into which she threw most such presents after receiving them with grace, the present never to be seen again.
But she did like big, dangley earrings and I took soundings with Marraz and Anandani. The latter was the school mistress at the local primary school. She suggested that I go to the parents of one of her charges. They were silversmiths and would have a range of hand-crafted silver earrings of every possible description.
Anandani sent Bhavesh with me and Anil on this errand. Bhavesh blurted a message in creole to the parents, which Anil loosely translated as a statement that I was, to all intents and purposes, a member of the family and a threat that all hell would break loose if they tried to charge me a tourist price rather than a sensible price.
I chose a particularly dangley pair of highly-crafted silver earrings. They quoted a price. It sounded fair to me, but I asked them, through sign language and some very rudimentary Creole if that was the last price. They assured me through sign language and expertly-deployed Creole that it was absolutely the local, last price, below which they simply could not go. Anandani seemed very satisfied that she had done her bit when i showed her the wares and told her the price I had paid.
Grandma Anne said that the earrings were lovely when i gave them to her, but I still half-expected never to see them again. Except that is not what happened. In fact, Grandma Anne was rarely seen wearing any other earrings for the rest of her life – albeit only a couple of years. Either she genuinely liked them, or she was genuinely proud of the story – i.e. that her grandson had gone off to this far away place and chosen earrings for her, or both. In any case, the gift was a great success.
