When you leave Mauritius for Rodrigues, you have no
choice but to go through the recently renovated airport at Plaisance. You
strolled between the sophisticated walls of that massive structure of metal,
glass, and cement and when you reach the sitting room to await your plane, you
find yourself staring at those printed canvas of the typical sights in
Rodrigues. You see octopuses drying on branches; fishermen at sea and colourful
boats sailing in dreamy blue lagoons. One senses the art is to convey a taste
of what it is going to be like when you set foot there. But in the success of
that effort is the failure to impart the humility of Rodrigues, because this is
what Rodrigues does: it humbles you.
Landing at the Sir Gaëtan Duval Airport, I saw for the
first time that the airport had changed considerably since my last visit. It
was however nothing like SSR Airport. Nothing spelled grandeur about it. But
leaving Plaine Corail and traveling inland did make me begin to realise how
special Rodrigues was. In Mauritius, buildings seem to pop out of the ground
like daisies and you cannot even remember what lay there before. In Rodrigues,
even if my last visit was 10 years ago, I could still pinpoint most of the
little changes in the landscape. It seemed to me that Rodrigues has a clock of
its own. Time seems almost suspended. Looking on your right, you see cattle
grazing lazily among the greens of the sloppy mountains; and then on your left,
there is the serene sea reaching in vain towards the azure, while fishermen disembark
from their boats with fishes aplenty. The breath-taking simplicity of those
landscapes is what gives you the impression that the sand has stopped flowing
in the hourglass.
Simplicity is what I resorted to during the one week I
was to stay on the island. Every morning, I’d wake up at 5 because it seems to
me Rodriguans are not familiar with the notion of a lazy morning in bed. At 5,
they are already cleaning the maize and getting them ready to be sent to the
mill; the goats and cattle are already on the way to their new grazing spot for
the day, by the sea or on the mountains; and most importantly, my old, nosy and
loud landlady is already up sitting on the terrace of her shop, getting her
head around new rumours. A funny woman she was, but she told me of a place in
Port Mathurin where I could get the best pork sausages. I did my best to eat as
much as I could of the Rodriguan cuisine, trying some restaurants along the
coast or near my place in Baie-aux-Huîtres.
On some days, I was very lucky to have good company in
the person of Jean-Claude, an old Mauritian pensioner who leaves his wife and
kids every year for two months to come enjoy the peace of Rodrigues. I learned
a thing or two from him about the places to visit and he accompanied me on my
trip to Rivière Coco. It was without doubt a funny trip for, if in Mauritius,
buses tend to break down on the main roads, in Rodrigues they endure the
tortuous curves of the island’s roads. My bus even stopped for the passengers
to buy bananas from a street vendor! The bananas tasted like heaven, I must
say! As the bus descended slowly towards the coast, I grew quite excited about
the sight of octopuses hung out to dry in the sun. I got off the bus and decided
to walk to photograph this view. I met with two friendly fishmongers who were
cleaning buckets of fishes in the sea waters. I bought a fish with Madame
Perrine and met with her family while keeping up the conversation about the
lives of fishermen. They sail away very early and come back with fishes and
octopuses before noon, and their wives clean it all to get the catch ready for
drying and for sale. Hard work, she says but there are no complications and no
surprises. I walked to Rivière Coco in the company of a fishmonger in the
scorching sun. We see Rodriguans always wearing straw hats and while we thought
it is perhaps just a folkloric thing, it would have made an amazing protection
that day because I got back three shades darker.
Rodrigues, while being known for its crafts and foods,
is also famous to hikers. I took time to climb a few mountains to get a glimpse
of the island from high up. Mesmerising does not begin to describe it. Getting
to the top was not always easy; even if the mountains and hills in Rodrigues do
not rise high, the flanks were either covered in acacia bushes in which wasps
thrived, or they boasted steep escarpments where somehow livestock could be
seen eating grass. But more challenging were the meandering valleys that lead
to the mountains. However, help was always available if I could not find my
path. Kindness and a big smile were the token of exchange.
There is for sure a lot more to discover about the
island and after four visits, I still find the place and the folks as lovely as
ever. The people of Rodrigues are always eager to help and tell you stories.
And they tell beautiful stories that will make you want to stay for dinner at
their place, to hear more. But for now, this was part of my story. The rest is
up to you to discover.
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