Think of the Seychelles and what picture comes to mind? I bet it’s got
something to do with honeymooners sipping piña coladas under palm trees in
front of a sunset, quite possibly among the buxom pink boulders of Anse
Source d’Argent, the world’s most photographed beach.
And it’s true: the sea-sand-and-sundowners tropical stereotype is easy to find
here. That’s not how I think of the Seychelles, however. I think of it as a
place of marvels.
On Mahé, the main island of the archipelago, I’ve watched modern-day
treasure-hunters digging for pirate gold, using a 300-year-old cryptogram
that was left behind by the one-eyed buccaneer Olivier Levasseur.
On La Digue, where cars are outlawed, I’ve ridden an ox cart to a deserted
beach, stopping en route to tickle the giant tortoises the islanders keep as
pets.
And on Praslin, I’ve wandered into the prehistoric forest that harbours the
coco de mer, a skyscraping palm tree with nuts shaped like a life-size
female derrière. It’s called the Vallée de Mai, and some believe it is the
original Garden of Eden.
I’ve watched shaggy fruit bats fly overhead at dusk, like vampiric teddy
bears; snorkelled with dreadlocked rasta men wielding pointy sticks,
spearing octopus for supper. Everywhere you look, something strange,
seductive, supranatural. For me, the Seychelles is not just heaven, it’s
heaven on hallucinogens.
Yet those who’ve never been there still picture the Seychelles as a
destination reserved for five-star honeymoons and high-price primping. The
country’s tourist board wants to address this.
It has launched a website called Seychelles Secrets, which gathers together 37
family-run, guesthouse-style hotels where you can tap into the freewheeling
creole culture of the Seychellois people, hear their stories, taste their
food and pick up their tips about secret beaches, eccentric locals and the
best places to eat fruit-bat curry.
I’ve just sampled an island-hopping itinerary, trying out the tastiest of
them. Their quality varies, but here are my three fail-safe favourites.
CAP JEAN MARIE, Praslin
I’ll be honest: when Iris Volcere slinked out to welcome us to Cap Jean Marie,
on Praslin, I thought she was the maid. Lithe-limbed, soft-spoken and
looking 10 years too young to have a teenage daughter, Iris is actually the
boss - her husband, Terry, has owned this chunk of beach from birth.
In 2006, the couple built two petite villas for guests, set just 20 barefoot
paces behind their private strip of spotless, shell-scattered sand. All that
separates the chalets from the shore is three neat rows of coconut palms,
heavy with fruit and forming an overarching cloister through which one
strolls into the surf. No wonder two couples have already returned to get
married here.
Terry has made a smashing job of the guest quarters, with porches for
sunset-spotting and full-size kitchens, but Iris will cook for you - and
make sure she does. Her red-snapper curry with lentil broth turned out to be
the daintiest meal I had on the island. After dinner, Iris and Terry joined
me for vanilla tea and island tittle-tattle, sketching out a walking route
to Anse Lazio and a world-beating beach just beyond the mountain, then
phoning to book me a table for lunch at Café des Arts, their favourite
restaurant.
The lush Lemuria Resort is just around the cape, and the couple can fix it for
you to play golf there, or visit Anse Georgette, a kiss curl of
strawberry-blonde sand drenched in rainforest. Frankly, though, who wants
to? Their own beach is delicious, especially for snorkelling (I even
glimpsed the skedaddling tail of a turtle), and a 10-minute paddle brings
you to the Capricorn restaurant, where the waitress chopped a coconut from
the tree and stuck a straw in it for me as a prelude to zesty octopus salad
and passion-fruit sorbet.
ANSE SOLEIL BEACHCOMBER, Mahé
“We hired a 4WD and discovered just the scrummiest beach,” said the yummy
mummy sitting beside me in the departure lounge at Mahé airport. “You must
go next time ... ”
“Oh, Anse Soleil,” I replied nonchalantly. “Actually, I stayed there, right on
the beach.”
How very satisfying. Only intrepid explorers find Anse Soleil at all - it is
cast away on Mahé’s southwestern shore, home to nesting turtles, oddball
artists and almost nobody else. The Beachcomber guesthouse crouches crablike
among rocky ramparts at one end of the cove. Draped with artful bits of
fishing net and driftwood, it looks as if it might have washed ashore
wholesale in the last storm.
Alison Albert, the wife of a Seychellois doctor, is its mother-hen hostess.
She booked me in, wheeled my bag, lent me some snorkelling gear and chatted
through my day over home-cooked garlic crab on the sun deck at dinner. “This
place is my baby,” she said winningly.
My chalet teetered above the rocks, and came with lots of white space, huge
windows and cantankerous plumbing. The four “premier” rooms are smarter:
they have slinky wicker furniture, giant tortoises in the garden and a
staircase down to the sea. The beach is a dream: craggy enough for mornings
beachcombing among the rocks, white enough for afternoons dossing in your
blini-sized bikini. At lunchtime, there’s a toes-in-the-sand cafe run by a
famously irascible family whose signature dish is shark steak and whose
signature welcome is a grunt.
You don’t need Alison’s tips about special beaches - you’re on one. Instead,
she arranged car hire and sketched out an insider’s driving tour, taking in
snorkelling at Ile Souris, a studio visit with a madcap sculptor, Antonio
Filippin, and lemongrass ice cream at the Jardin du Roi, a sensuous spice
garden on a hard-to-find hilltop above Anse Royale.
FLEUR DE LYS, La Digue
Ron Henry may well have saved my life. Ron was my host on La Digue, the owner
and sage of Fleur de Lys bungalows, and I thought I’d test his island
expertise by asking him to recommend a beach that I could have all to
myself. “Petite Anse,” he said.
Correct answer. I’d found the same spot by a fluke three years earlier, after
clambering across a headland guarded by millipedes the size of cucumbers,
and enjoyed a Reggie Perrin moment, stripping off my clothes and
skinny-dipping alone in the surf. It was sensational, and I fully intended
to go back.
Ron had something else to tell me, though. “Don’t swim deep there,” he warned.
“The riptide can be fatal: a local lad got swept away just a few weeks ago.”
Ooer. Now that’s what you call useful local knowledge.
La Digue squeezes one green mountain, 18 coral-sand beaches, a dozen or so
intimate inns and limitless slow-burning Creole hospitality into a charmed
circle barely three miles across. The only tourist transport is via ox-cart
taxi, so everybody hires a bicycle and wobbles out past overgrown
graveyards, ranks of vanilla vines and ox-sized cowpats to Anse Source
d’Argent, the beach that launched a thousand swimwear ranges and Bacardi
campaigns.
Fleur de Lys is happily marooned in the middle of all this loveliness, its
four (soon to be eight) immaculate bungalows arranged around a tropical
garden. Each has air con, a kitchen, a wooden terrace with a bike propped
against it and maybe the occasional clucking chicken for extra colour.
Ron is Scottish, his wife, Mary, is Seychellois, but Annie the maid is the one
you’ll like best – she brings breakfast in a wee basket each morning and
suggests the best places for dinner (Lanbousir, Château St Cloud), as well
as the best satellite islands for sport fishing or swimming with turtles
(Denis, Félicité). It’s not every hotel where your maid will tailor-make
your holiday for you. In short, Fleur de Lys is the defining digs on the
textbook Seychelles island.
Travel brief
The guesthouses: Cap Jean Marie (00 248-233739, www.capjeanmarie.sc
) has chalets for two from £153, B&B. Anse Soleil Beachcomber
(361461, www.beachcomber.sc ) has
doubles from £92, B&B, with premier rooms going for £138;
half-board costs £19pp extra. Fleur de Lys (234459, www.fleurdelysey.com
) has bungalows for two from £80, room-only; breakfast is £8pp.
More Seychelles Secrets properties can be found at www.seychellessecrets.com
. Others worth considering include: L’Habitation Cerf Island (323111, www.seychelles-holidays.com
; doubles from £141, B&B), a plantation-style house on a satellite
island of Mahé; Hotel Café des Arts, on Praslin (232170, www.cafe.sc
; doubles from £145, B&B), with a funky restaurant on the beach and
its own art gallery; and Château St Cloud, on La Digue (234346, www.seychelles.net/stcloud
; doubles from £115, B&B), run by the irrepressible Myriam St Ange,
who is descended from six generations of vanilla planters. For more details,
call the Seychelles tourist office on 020 7333 0147 or visit www.seychelles.travel.com
Getting there: Air Seychelles (01293 596656, www.airseychelles.co.uk
) is the only nonstop carrier: returns to Mahé from Heathrow start at £594.
The three main islands are linked by a fast, reliable passenger ferry: the
hotels will happily arrange transfers and/or car hire on the islands, with
prices starting at about £30 per day. Alternatively, use a local ground
operator such as Creole Travel Services (00 248 297000, www.creoletravelservices.com
).
Tour operators: Elite Vacations (01707 371000, www.seychelleselite.co.uk
) can tailor-make a 12-night trip, with five nights at Cap Jean Marie, four
at Anse Soleil Beachcomber and three at Fleur de Lys. Prices start at
£1,498pp, B&B, based on two sharing and including flights with Air
Seychelles, as well as all transfers. Or try Seychelles Experience (01202
419219, www.seychellesuk.com ) or
Seychelles Travel (01202 877330, www.seychelles-travel.co.uk
).
Vincent Crump was a guest of Elite Vacations and Air Seychelles
