Seychelles - DKT Page 20

Our Air Madagascar flight landed on the Island of Mahe, where we climbed aboard a smaller plane for a hop to the island of Praslin. A gorgeous sunset welcomed us to our bungalow at Maison des Palmes.

The geomorphology of Praslin is unlike any tropical island we've ever seen. It rose not from a volcano or seamount directly, rather it and the islands surrounding are the tops of a sunken granitic mountain range. The shore is littered with these great boulders, amongst which sprout mango and palm trees, and the whole floats on a clear azure sea. The latest movie version of Robinson Crusoe was filmed here.

Terez, our beautiful hostess. She and her husband manage Maison des Palmes. Their biggest hassle is finding help that will show up for work on a regular basis. They can't afford to be very picky. For the most part we found the staff, and most uneducated Seychellois generally, to be depressingly rude and surly. There's a lot of latent resentment in the air.

A kilometer north of Maison des Palmes a retired SAS pilot has established an aquaculture operation for cultivation of Tridachna gigantis (giant clams) and black pearl oysters. He's an energetic and fascinating man (we can't recall his name right now), and his is the only black pearl farm in the Indian Ocean. Earrings made from his finest pair of matched pearls fetched $20,000 in Hong Kong.

The Seychelles together make up the smallest sovereign state in the world (fewer bodies than either Monte Carlo or San Marino). Two days after we arrived national elections were held and M. Renee was reelected . . . every four years he promises ever fatter social welfare programs to the common folk, so they all vote for him.

Only an enterprising minority seems inclined to do any work at all, and they are bearing the cost of all the free beer and bread for Renee's giddy masses. It's obviously a great pyramid scheme and is bound to crumble sooner or later. Armed soldiers patrolled the voting places, and for 24 hours after the election truckloads of drunken revelers caravaned around and around the island, singing praises of their benefactor.

Staying in the bungalow next to ours was a charming French couple, Yves and Danielle Grangeon. They joined us for a hike up the Valle de Mai, the only place in the world where grows the palm that bears the extraordinary fruit called Coco de Mer. It is the largest fruit in the world, weighing up to 15 kilos. Each nut takes seven years to develop, ultimately taking on an amazing resemblance to a human female pelvis. They are rare and much coveted by tourists, each nut selling for around $350.

We rented a car and crossed Praslin to a well-known beach called Anse Lazio. There were too many naked women lying about so while Dan bushwhacked over a bouldered headland with the picnic gear, Kaaren and Ty swam north about a half-mile, to where we found our very own, very private, very perfect little strand.

One afternoon we went deep-sea fishing and it turned into one of our greatest misadventures. The weather was fine when we headed out through the reef, but at dusk we were caught by an awesome thunderstorm, while still miles from shore. The rain was so dense we couldn't see fifty feet from the boat. We had no radio, and the only compass aboard was broken!

We were lost at sea, so we hove-to as the night grew ever darker. When the wind and rain, and lightning and thunder finally eased up the sky was moonless and the sea pitch-black all around us. We saw some lights far-off on the horizon, and hoping it was our island, headed for them. It took several hours to pick our way by flashlight back in through the unmarked reef. We were real unhappy, so they gave us our money back.

Several evenings we sat on the shore watching the sun go down (still no green flash!), and sharing a bottle of wine with Toi and Liza Ahmad. Toi is an oral surgeon in Basel, and one of those people who seems perpetually fascinated with life, and does everything very well . . . plus, he's handsome and charming. He spent a lot of time showing Tyler some of the finer points of photography.

We found this guy named Roget to run us out to the island of LaDigue for a morning of snorkeling. He didn't seem very happy and didn't say or smile much. We saw splendid coral gardens, turtles, eagle rays, and sharks (little ones).

The Seychelles and the surrounding waters are spectacularly beautiful. It is not a happy country. We're glad to have been there, but it is not a place we'd choose to visit again. One lesson we've learned for certain along the way: it is the people who make a place special . . . for better or worse, it's the people we will remember best and longest.

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