The Seychelles: Zen and the art of desert island living

So let’s set the scene. North Island is part of the Seychelles archipelago in the Indian Ocean, 1,000 miles east of Kenya and about 20 miles north of the main island, Mahé. It’s about a mile-and-a-half long by half-a-mile wide with four white-sand beaches punctuated by three forest-covered granite outcrops. It was used as a plantation from the 1800s until the Seventies, when it fell into disuse following the collapse of the coconut industry and was overrun by feral animals and alien weeds.


A red cardinal fody (Alamy; Guido Cozzi/SIME)

Redemption came in 1997 when Wilderness Safaris, one of southern Africa’s largest safari operators, bought the island. A plan was devised to return it to its pre-colonial, pre-lapsarian state – a Noah’s Ark sanctuary of indigenous flora and fauna free of invasive coconut trees, Indian mynah birds, cows, pigs and rats. An island, in fact, where the seriously endangered giant Seychelles tortoise could go forth once more and multiply. The plan reached fruition in 2003 when North Island was finally opened.

Perversely enough, I arrive feeling travel-weary and in rather a bad mood. This can’t be right, can it? The “real world” entering paradise. I should be raring to go, ready to dive that amazing coral reef, climb those granitic outcrops and bond with Brutus the giant tortoise. But I’m being philosophical about it – I’ve started reading my book, remember – and the way I look at it I’m probably feeling like the typical honeymooner, ready to drop after months of stress.

And then something happens that transforms everything. It’s like one of those fictional doorways into a parallel universe. As we step off the boat into the shallow water, my feet sink into sand that feels (and looks) like sieved white flour. It’s sensuous and tickles between my toes. Suddenly, there are smiling, welcoming faces, our luggage is being whisked away, I can feel the heat of the sun on my bare shoulders, glasses of champagne are being poured. Can it get any better?

Indeed it can. There’s the sublime tropical island view to start with, but there’s also the “Piazza”, with its historic old plantation buildings now restored into a library and dive centre; there’s the bar and dining area with their upside-down casuarina trees, the weathered wood, the smoothed rock, the rim-flow pond, the hanging coral screens, the textures, the scents and the sounds of the sea and the birds. And as we flop on to vast white beach beds, a very special smile spreads across Sarah’s face.


A five-star beach resort turned into a sanctuary (Alamy; Guido Cozzi/SIME )

Even though there are 11 villas hidden away among the palm trees, it feels as if the island belongs solely to us. Every now and then during our stay we pass other guests in their electric buggies and nod to them happily at the West Beach Bar or on the way to the spa, but to all intents and purposes this is our own private island.

We eat what we like when we like, where we like – alfresco, on the beach, in our room, in the restaurant. There’s a Mac and iPad in our villa with menus and mouth-watering pictures of multiple feasts that can be instantly conjured up. Bottles of champagne on ice seem to follow us wherever we go and even my prodigious appetite for Dom Perignon’s heavenly nectar finally meets its match.

We have not one but two personal villa attendants who make suggestions, clear up after us, cook in our villa when we request it, make jokes, always seem delighted to see us, create a candlelit, perfumed wonderland and personal spa in our villa every night, and somehow seem to know intuitively when we want to see them and when we prefer our privacy.

Our villa is what a design-conscious Robinson Crusoe might finally have come up with by mixing island objets trouvés with the fixtures and fittings from the wreck of a five-star cruise liner. It is constructed mostly of recycled wood and sand-coloured granitic stone, while retractable glass doors maximise the sense of indoors-outdoors space. There are two bedrooms, a lounge, kitchenette, bathroom and massage area. The centrepiece is an outdoor living and dining area with a swimming pool looking out over a lawn through a frame of takamaka trees towards the beach and the ocean beyond.


A giant tortoise in the Seychelles (Alamy; Guido Cozzi/SIME )

We spend our days swimming, sunbathing, eating and drinking, walking, cycling, snorkelling, eating and drinking, diving, having a massage in one of the world’s most relaxing spas, eating and drinking…you get the picture. One evening a surprise awaits us after a walk to a rocky headland looking back over the main beach. Champagne corks fly and a fire is lit as we watch the sun go down curled up together on a bed of silk cushions.

One morning we take a nature walk with Mariette, who proudly shows us some of the conservation work. Since the rats were eradicated, many endangered bird species have been reintroduced, including the Seychelles magpie robin, one of the world’s rarest birds. North is also a nesting area for endangered hawksbill and green turtles.

Most surreal of all are the 150 giant tortoises that inhabit the island, up from just 35 in 1997. From a distance they look like boulders but up close and personal, those gnarled, prehistoric faces have an indescribable charisma. The larger adults are identified by numbers. One rather beguiling female, Number 6, stands on her toes when we tickle her under her chin while her male companion (Number 9, you guessed it) looks on with a stare that would have made Queen Victoria look jolly.

But here’s a thing. I can’t help noticing that the grass outside our villa is brown. Yes, burnt brown. Is that allowed in paradise? I mean, where are the sprinklers and the lawn like a bowling green? I later discover that it’s because water conservation is taken seriously on North and conservation comes first. The water table is monitored daily to ensure that not too much water is extracted or becomes salinated.

This, after all, is at the heart of why we loved North Island so much. Pirsig’s thesis is that true “quality” can have meaning only if it exactly matches the requirements of any given situation. The gloss of unnatural perfection would not be appropriate. On North Island, that elusive goal has most certainly been achieved. True “quality” indeed.

Expert Africa (020 8232 9777; expertafrica.com) is offering seven nights on North Island for £14,958 per person, based on two sharing. The price includes helicopter transfers to and from Mahé, all meals, house wines, most spirits and cocktails, a personal buggy to get around, and activities ranging from snorkelling and scuba diving to half-day fishing charters.

Read more

Seychelles: The perfect pile of sand
North Island: barefoot luxury in Eden
Royal honeymoon: holiday guide to the Seychelles
Seychelles: Eden’s forbidden fruit

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Source link : https://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/africa/seychelles/articles/The-Seychelles-Zen-and-the-artof-desert-island-living/

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Publish date : 2014-09-22 03:00:00

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