Two Bits: Even the gardeners gave us a cheerful ‘Bon Jour’

Just back from a glorious week on the Ile de Maurice, golfing, sightseeing and relaxing in a destination that appears to have a firm grip on what tourism should be.

One memorable moment was dining at a Thai restaurant within the luxury Trou aux Biches Beachcomber complex we were staying at. As we walked in the door, waiter Karan greeted us courteously and seated us at a table overlooking the pool where a cool breeze was most welcome.

He spread Rose’s napkin with a flourish and then gently admonished me for unfolding my own napkin.

“You are too quick, m’seur!” (i.e. that’s my job!).

He then talked through the menu and, having made our choices, appeared minutes later with the starters, poured water and wine and then busied himself with other tables. He always refilled our glasses and was never more than a glance away, not the arm waving we so often have to do to get a waiter’s attention.

All the service staff we encountered, from the greeters at reception to the gardeners outside our room, had a cheerful “Bon jour” for us and appeared to take pride in their work. That treatment continued from the bus drivers who ferried us to the two golf courses we played, to the pro-shop staff. Admirable stuff.

We were part of a golf group invited to play Peter Matkovich’s newest course, Mont Choisy in the northwest corner of Mauritius, just a prawn’s throw from the choice tourist spot of Grand Baie.

It’s an 18-hole course sculpted from an old cane farm just inland of Trou aux Biche.

Says Peter, “I fell in love with this particular piece of land when I first visited Mauritius and spent many years persuading the owner to let me build a course on it. Were he alive today I am sure he would be as proud as I am of how the land has been transformed.”

The signature feature of Mont Choisy, for me, are the ‘waste bunkers’ made of black volcanic gravel, that add a distinctive element for golfers to negotiate. They are not regular bunkers, rather areas that add a linksy feel to the course. I’d like to go back in a few years when it has settled and maybe some trees have grown to break the wind and give shade, but no doubt it is going to be a standout course in time. The group – made up of Mt Edgecombe, Simbithi and a few Umhlali and Jo’burg players – also played another of Peter’s courses, Avalon, that is really coming into its own.

In the mountains towards the south it can be wet, but we were blessed with perfect weather. I played it two years ago when the course was still new and my memory had not played tricks on me.

There are two holes, four and seven, over and through ravines that I tremble to play but are very beautiful. He also designed the world-class Heritage course on the coast nearby, long rated the best course on the island, but we didn’t go there this time, more’s the pity.

The big hotel operators offer packages of accommodation and golf and it’s the way to go if you want to play. Air Mauritius allows free transport of clubs (and really does look after them) but you’d have to have won the Lotto to pay standalone visitor rates. How does R2300 per player appeal to you? Not much, I would guess. Avalon is half that but still, packages are the way to go.

Peter’s point man in Mauritius, Andy Bean, says the government and hotel groups are fully on board about golf tourism. “When they realised that golfers spend four times as much as the average tourist, they really sat up and took notice. The hotels are very keen to get golfers here and the government is right behind golf development.”

Andy and his wife, Cathy, both well known to Dolphin Coasters, are having the time of their lives on the island. They live right on the beach, have sussed the locals’ hangouts and are mastering the maze of roads and diabolical traffic, though confess to still getting lost on occasion.

A high point of the week for us was a catamaran trip out to an island where we snorkeled and feasted on braaied prawns. The coral was not as spectacular as Zanzibar, perhaps sanded up by the recent cyclone, but still memorable. A first bird sighting for us at sea were the White-tailed Tropic birds, then around our apartment the Red Fodies and Zebra Doves.

I have to go back on a birding trip to see more of the ocean island birds.

Anyhow, all good things come to an end and too soon we were back at the busy airport. Back at King Shaka I stopped for a cappuccino.

“Dj’awankremawfom?” rattled off the disinterested waiter. “What?” I asked. “D’ju wan krem aw fom?” he said slower, clearly talking to an idiot. “Cream,” I replied. When it arrived, there was a dollop of some thick white stuff on what looked like milk froth. Why bother, I thought. And the coffee was tepid. Jeez, welcome home!

* * *

I’ve always thought my neighbours were quite nice people. But then they put a password on their Wi-Fi.

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