Hard life

Of course, we had to get the massage done first: a slender wee thing kneading my too, too solid flesh, and doing a good job too on the stiff shoulders. Then green tea on a sunlounger after by the infinity pool with hibiscus flowers on bowls and zen-raked sand under the foxtail palms. Sigh.

Then a quick tour of the property (Tamassa: lovely place, hard to distinguish the standard rooms from the deluxe) and off to lunch at the beach bar, Playa, where the Executive Chef himself was waiting for us with a table specially set up with beautifully presented little dishes of Mauritian tapas: octopus, palm hearts, lightly smoked marlin, prawns, curried fish and other delights. He sat and chatted with us about his wide travels in the kitchens of the world as we scoffed his lovely food and got an understanding of the local version of fusion food. It's all delicately done: the Indian food is clearly versions of curry, but not the sort to make the sweat spring out on your brow (though it's not all like that: the tomato chutney left me grabbing for a swig of the local Phoenix beer).

We met such a lot of friendly people today, on our taxi tour of the local sights: the over-60 group of Indian ladies genteelly dancing under the casuarinas at one beach to simple music made by a drum, tambourine, bell and wooden clappers, who got us to join in. Then there was the lovely man and his very lovely nephew selling carved stone dodos up at a lookout, who invited us home to share his cauliflower, chicken and carrot dinner with cucumber salad; and the man at the Grande Bassin Indian temple near a huge benevolent statue of Shiva, who bound Liz's knee with a red scarf when she tripped on a step and grazed it. The sugar cane juice seller was cheerful and chatty too; and the UAE couple at the deeply disappointing Coloured Earth place (not a patch on Rotorua) were funny and interesting.

It rained, and the sun shone, and then it rained and shone, rained and shone - it was just like being in Auckland. With better food and prettier people. Sorry.