pühapäev, 3. märts 2019

Bonjour, Mauritius. Thank God, it was Monday!







Few days ago we told one local dude (and everyone else, who wanted to listen, but they are not relevant at the moment) how much we like our long and empty Mont Choisy beach. The dude told us to wait until Sunday and assured that we won't see any empty beach then.

On Sunday we grabbed our hammock and snorkeing stuff (for each their own, right) and went to the beach. The road that is usually empty, was already parked full by 9:30 am... We hang the hammock, went for a swim, Scott went snorkeing, I napped in the hammock. An hour later when we started to pack our things, a loacl family was already at our footsteps and before I managed to take the first step, they already pushed their picnic table into my knees.

We once again had cheese and salami lunch and had planned another beach round wiith sunset for later. We walked down to the beach and by 5pm our peaceful, white sand beach and pine tree forest had turned into more crowded space than Copacabana beach during Ricky Martin's concert. Under every tree there was a family or two with their tents and open air kitchens. Younger ones were partying, the families ran after kids. Every picnic corner had their own 96oz jar of local fruit rum or several bottles of fancier alcohol. Only ones not drunk seemed to be kids and muslim women. The only thing, I could think about, was that thank god, we didn't arrive a day earlier, last Sunday. If there would have been similar gipsy camping when we arrived, I would have started to look for a new accommodation the same evening. Like our kipper told to wait until Sunday and this time as bonus it was the end of the months (everyone had money) and tomorrow a national holiday (day off), which also made a lot of people to stay the night.

We watched the sunset, as entertainment we had a slavic couple all those 30 minutes taking pictures, where the lady wearing a bikini walked into water, kneeled down, took a sexy pose and made a circle with her hands around the sun. Her boyfriend, instead of getting his own lazy butt up, told her to move to the left or right, to get higher or lower. Took few pictures which didn't satisfy the lady and the fun started all over. All the 30 minutes.

We took taxi to the restaurant we chose yesterday in the hope that the chef had turned up today and scored ourselves also the return ride with the same taxi driver - the restaurant had to call him a bit in advance to come and pick us up.

The restaurant was indeed open and the chef present. We decided to give another chance to the octopus salad, ordered a crab soup and for mains red snapper (white fish, right) in creole sauce and braised beef. The octopus salad was the best so far, delicious and soft octopus in an amazing lemon and olive oil dressing. I guess, the restaurant had read my rant about the lobsterless lobster soup in Cafe Truffe, because the crab soup arrived with half of the crab, legs hanging out of the bowl. Scott wasn't really keen on working for his food, but took the equipment and started to clean the crab. Soup itself was very good. Red snapper and the creole sauce incredible and the beef wasn't too bad either. For the desert we decided to take the Chef's Surprise and the chef decided to surprise us with fruit gratin (look at the picture!). Was very good! 

Kommentaare ei ole:

Postita kommentaar