This is the Kind of Thing I Hate

It's Friday morning. We're at an internet cafe in Port Louis, and my space bar doesn't work. The techno music is really loud. Also, this morning we drove Catherine to the airport and said good-bye; she's spending the next six months volunteering in northern Limpopo province, South Africa -- near the border of Zimbabwe. She's a spunky one!

Jeez, I thought saying good-bye once was hard enough. Saying it again was harder. We're somehow already at the end of our time in Mauritius -- I remember when we extended our time here and it seemed like it would never end. Suddenly, the end is upon us, and we've spent the last two days saying goodbye to people. Later today we'll board our flight and head for Switzerland, where we'll be greeted by mountains, snow, chocolate, cheese, and really nice practical underwear which lasts forever -- at least, that's what my husband would have me believe.

If only saying hello wasn't always eventually followed by saying good-bye, traveling would be perfect.

Oops.

It occurs to me that our itinerary says we're in Cairo, Egypt. Truth be told, we had that all booked -- ten days in Turkey, a week in Egypt. We were supposed to leave Mauritius on November 18th, and now it's the 24th.

The truth is that once we'd been here a few days, we found ourselves really getting into the groove of "Island life". The beaches, the food, the sunshine -- what's not to love? After some long-distance phone calls and rage-inducing visits to the Mauritius office of South African Airways, we changed our itinerary, cancelled those legs of the trip, and decided to stay. We'll now fly directly to Zurich (via Johannesburg) on December 5th, and then return to Toronto on the 22nd as originally planned.

Actually, the clincher for me was being here with my wonderful family after spending almost a year in the company of relative strangers. I have thrown myself gladly into their warm embraces, and am nestled here all cozy and comfortable amongst my people. I appreciate my family members more than I ever have, and am thankful every day that we get to spend more time with them. BG is also enjoying his time with them (and with Catherine, who also extended her time in Mauritius.) We've even scaled-down the time we intend to travel around Switzerland, and have decided to spend more time in one place with BG's family.

It's a wonderful way to end a wonderful trip.

A La Recherche Du Temps Perdu (pardon the lack of accents)

I'm walking down the streets of Port Louis, staring intently at the ground to avoid tripping on the uneven cobblestones. At the same time, pedestrians in front of me stop to examine the wares for sale on the sidewalk -- cotton shirts, plastic kitchenware, nail clippers. I turn to avoid them. To the left of me is the central market. I can hear the vendors inside advertising their wares: "Bananas! Lychees! Eggplants, peppers, lettuce! Madame, some mangoes for you?" The sweet scent of ripe fruit mixes with the muskiness of the Indian spices they're selling. It's a familiar, comforting fragrance.

I turn the corner and cross the street, dodging the cars and motorcycles that come careening through the intersection. I come to a certain storefront and go inside. A wiry middle-aged man of Chinese descent is wrapping a set of spanners for his customer. He nods to me in greeting, his head bent over the desk. I squeeze past, being careful not to upset the piles of industrial machinery that surround me. The pleasant-looking woman at the back, his wife, writes a receipt for the purchase, makes a copy with carbon paper. The wrenches are wrapped efficiently in wrinkly brown paper, the package sealed with ancient cellophane tape. The purchaser hands two folded notes over the desk to the lady, who puts the money in the top drawer of her sagging desk. Next to her, comfortably seated in an old wicker chair, I put my hands out, palms up, for her to give me the money. My beloved aunt looks at me, laughs, pats my arm. I could be six; I could be thirty (one.) It feels like nothing has changed here since I was a child.

Parts of Mauritius are glossy and fancy; the capital of Port Louis is being remade and revamped. No matter how bright and shiny it may become in the future, this is how Mauritius will always be for me -- and I wouldn't have it any other way.

You're Full of It

What, you ask, have we been keeping ourselves occupied with lately?

Let's just say we're making up for five weeks of bush cuisine. I'm not knocking my own skills, but there's only so much you can do with a can of beans and a package of noodles.



Our first day, we ate lunch on the beach -- the deliciously familiar taste of roti and yummy fried Indian treats were all the better as we watched the aquamarine waters of the Indian Ocean kiss the white sands.





We're in French pastry heaven here! One of the must-do stops on our list was a bakery we last visited in 2003, when BG ate SIX pastries pretty much straight out of the oven. I'm happy to report that he matched his record this time, with Catherine taking the silver medal with four. Tarts bursting with fresh sweet banana custard and pastry shells full of sweet almond paste were devoured next to my favourites, Napolitaine cookies -- melt-in-your-mouth shortbread dipped in pink icing.



Actually, some of the best and most memorable meals are those eaten with family. This weekend we were treated to two dinners with family, and both were incredible. Being away from home for almost 15 months now has been great, but coming to Mauritius and spending time with family members has been a bit of a homecoming for all of us. On a personal note, sharing some of the tastes of my childhood with everyone has been the most nostalgic, familiar experience of all -- it ranks right up there with some of the "Big Sights" of 2008.

Thank you thank you thank you thank you

When on a trip like this, it's difficult to make friends. Every couple of days you leave a place and you leave behind all of the people you met there, often never to cross paths again. I'm beginning to get tired of the conversation we've been having the past nine months... Where are you from? How long are you traveling for? How do you like this place? Yeah, the volunteering was great, we loved it. Thailand was nice. I would go back there again. We're going to Australia next, then South Africa. I know, penguins, weird, but it sounds pretty cool. We'll be home for Christmas. Yes, we do get homesick. Which part of America are we from? The Canadian part.

Anyway, a person you've known for a week becomes an old friend. We have, to be fair, met a number of really great people, some that we've met up with again through our travels, some that have let us crash in their homes on a patch of floor, and some that we plan to travel with in a 4x4 vehicle through the deserts of Africa.

Even better than old friends are family. In the absence of true blood family, then family-of-friends is just fantastic. Here in New Zealand we have been truly lucky to be introduced to certain family members of a certain friend from home, and we have been truly spoiled by these certain family members. We were not only introduced to these wonderful people, but invited into their homes and treated like -- family.

So, a million thanks to the family of this friend (you know who you are!) for making our time in New Zealand a heartwarming and memorable experience. I'm certain that our moms thank you too, for keeping us warm and comfortable in your homes. I hope that we'll see you again soon, perhaps when you decide to come to Canada!