After a wonderful few weeks back in Britain, I (hesitantly) made the long journey back to the island. In a way I’d become so used to the more liberal English youth culture that coming back was a bit of a shock again – a rediscovery, if you will.
Though disappointed by the lack of lychees on my return, I’ve seen again the beauty of the Secret Island and have had various spontaneous explorations. Seems like an odd sentence? You can’t underestimate the importance of lychees here. This season wasn’t as good as usual, so by the time I got back there were none left, and I’ve had to stick with boring old mango, banana, coconut and passion fruit. BAH.
Though disappointed by the lack of lychees on my return, I’ve seen again the beauty of the Secret Island and have had various spontaneous explorations. Seems like an odd sentence? You can’t underestimate the importance of lychees here. This season wasn’t as good as usual, so by the time I got back there were none left, and I’ve had to stick with boring old mango, banana, coconut and passion fruit. BAH.
Les Sorties - Making it up as we go along
As mentioned, I’ve been to a few waterfalls, including Cascade Maniquet, where I braved the freezing cold plunge pool (probably just for the bravado), coming out rather blue/purple. An exploration on the overgrown forest path nearby proved just a bit too wild for my accompanying adventurers and I, and as soon as we heard a loud droning BZZZZZZZZZ bumbling around our heads, we scrambled back to the safety of the remote mountain road on the volcanic island surrounded by shark-infested waters.
As mentioned, I’ve been to a few waterfalls, including Cascade Maniquet, where I braved the freezing cold plunge pool (probably just for the bravado), coming out rather blue/purple. An exploration on the overgrown forest path nearby proved just a bit too wild for my accompanying adventurers and I, and as soon as we heard a loud droning BZZZZZZZZZ bumbling around our heads, we scrambled back to the safety of the remote mountain road on the volcanic island surrounded by shark-infested waters.
Volca-yes! Spontaneous Second Time Lucky.
About an hour before leaving, I decided to latch on to a group of teaching assistants who had hired a car and were off exploring for the weekend. First camping on the moon/mars-scape of Plaine des Sables, waking up at dawn to go to Piton de la Fournaise – and lo and behold, this time it didn’t rain! I saw the crater in all its glory, and we were lucky to also see some smoky wisps swirling up from the base and the craggy slopes.
After that we went to Manapany, a southern seaside village with a lido where one can swim as in the real sea but guaranteed shark-free. Since there were three shark attacks and many more sightings over the holidays when I was away, I’m not too keen on the whole surfing lark and taking that risk. There are other ways to look cool on a tropical island, surely.
Then there was a beach party on the west coast where a young French woman got up mid-conversation and started ranting about how she couldn’t talk to us because she can’t communicate with non-francophones when their French is so awful, no matter how hard they try. Alors cassez-vous, madame!
The final day of the weekend saw a swoosh around the Sud Sauvage (The Wild South), sliding down mountain-surrounded mini-waterfalls into refreshing plunge pools, driving through the lava fields which run off into the south coast ... yada yada yada.
About an hour before leaving, I decided to latch on to a group of teaching assistants who had hired a car and were off exploring for the weekend. First camping on the moon/mars-scape of Plaine des Sables, waking up at dawn to go to Piton de la Fournaise – and lo and behold, this time it didn’t rain! I saw the crater in all its glory, and we were lucky to also see some smoky wisps swirling up from the base and the craggy slopes.
After that we went to Manapany, a southern seaside village with a lido where one can swim as in the real sea but guaranteed shark-free. Since there were three shark attacks and many more sightings over the holidays when I was away, I’m not too keen on the whole surfing lark and taking that risk. There are other ways to look cool on a tropical island, surely.
Then there was a beach party on the west coast where a young French woman got up mid-conversation and started ranting about how she couldn’t talk to us because she can’t communicate with non-francophones when their French is so awful, no matter how hard they try. Alors cassez-vous, madame!
The final day of the weekend saw a swoosh around the Sud Sauvage (The Wild South), sliding down mountain-surrounded mini-waterfalls into refreshing plunge pools, driving through the lava fields which run off into the south coast ... yada yada yada.
Coming soon – Boobz
For those more observant facebook stalkers (if I have any), you may have noticed that my two jokes of the moment are 1) Newt Gingrich, and 2) The Réunionese rapper called Boobz who’s coming to showcase delights from his new album, ‘Born to Fck’, at the university theatre. One of the songs I’ve heard includes the lyrics ‘then all the women eat all the lychees’. I can’t wait.
Invited by the people who run the theatre, I participated in what is apparently the favourite Réunion sport – picnicking. A joyous pique-nique in the park led me to trying the French’s equivalent to black pudding, bidouin. Congealed pigs’ blood never tasted better.
I also went to the first concert of the term, consisting of a very skilled Chinese Erhu player, and a Réunionese smooth jazz band. The former, by himself, played a stunning piece, however when the two were put together ... well let’s just say it made for an interesting mélange. No minor chords and very repetitive never-ending songs ensured a near torture-like experience, except that it was too hilarious to feel bad.
‘Racistes Dehors!’ - Let’s Get Political
As the French general elections approach, the presidential candidates have been throwing their manifestos and mandates all over the place. Nicolas Sarkozy (did you know he has a net worth of €2 million, and his first move in office was to give himself a pay-rise?) and François Hollande (leader of the French Socialist Party, some interesting ideas on environmental issues) will both be coming to visit in the next few weeks. But this week it was the turn of the rather terrifying Marine Le Pen, leader of the French Nationalist Party (Le Front National). And boy does she have some controversial (and awful, disgusting and racist) ideas. So coming here, to a generally lefty-island, she wasn’t warmly welcomed on her arrival.
I got to the airport just a few minutes before she arrived, seeing several police vehicles and hearing the enthusiastically furious chants of around sixty protesters. The various anti-fascist banners and placards blocked the rather pathetic little clan of French-flag bearing FN supporters. The crowd stormed towards Madame Le Pen and her entourage as they shuffled through the sliding doors, passionate anger echoing through the marble-floored entrance to Réunion. The rather unattractive gendarmerie (police) were shoving everyone around, fairly unprovoked, fairly unsurprisingly. But she certainly got the message that she wasn’t welcome here. I only wish I’d gotten there earlier, as there had been a Maloya group playing and everyone was discussing views and ideas. Though comparatively a small congregation, I know there were some larger protests organised for her visit, and it restored my faith in what I’d thought had been a relatively politically-uninterested island.
For those more observant facebook stalkers (if I have any), you may have noticed that my two jokes of the moment are 1) Newt Gingrich, and 2) The Réunionese rapper called Boobz who’s coming to showcase delights from his new album, ‘Born to Fck’, at the university theatre. One of the songs I’ve heard includes the lyrics ‘then all the women eat all the lychees’. I can’t wait.
Invited by the people who run the theatre, I participated in what is apparently the favourite Réunion sport – picnicking. A joyous pique-nique in the park led me to trying the French’s equivalent to black pudding, bidouin. Congealed pigs’ blood never tasted better.
I also went to the first concert of the term, consisting of a very skilled Chinese Erhu player, and a Réunionese smooth jazz band. The former, by himself, played a stunning piece, however when the two were put together ... well let’s just say it made for an interesting mélange. No minor chords and very repetitive never-ending songs ensured a near torture-like experience, except that it was too hilarious to feel bad.
‘Racistes Dehors!’ - Let’s Get Political
As the French general elections approach, the presidential candidates have been throwing their manifestos and mandates all over the place. Nicolas Sarkozy (did you know he has a net worth of €2 million, and his first move in office was to give himself a pay-rise?) and François Hollande (leader of the French Socialist Party, some interesting ideas on environmental issues) will both be coming to visit in the next few weeks. But this week it was the turn of the rather terrifying Marine Le Pen, leader of the French Nationalist Party (Le Front National). And boy does she have some controversial (and awful, disgusting and racist) ideas. So coming here, to a generally lefty-island, she wasn’t warmly welcomed on her arrival.
I got to the airport just a few minutes before she arrived, seeing several police vehicles and hearing the enthusiastically furious chants of around sixty protesters. The various anti-fascist banners and placards blocked the rather pathetic little clan of French-flag bearing FN supporters. The crowd stormed towards Madame Le Pen and her entourage as they shuffled through the sliding doors, passionate anger echoing through the marble-floored entrance to Réunion. The rather unattractive gendarmerie (police) were shoving everyone around, fairly unprovoked, fairly unsurprisingly. But she certainly got the message that she wasn’t welcome here. I only wish I’d gotten there earlier, as there had been a Maloya group playing and everyone was discussing views and ideas. Though comparatively a small congregation, I know there were some larger protests organised for her visit, and it restored my faith in what I’d thought had been a relatively politically-uninterested island.
So bring on whatever lies ahead for this semester ... it’s really just the beginning. (Cheesey).
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