Travel in the Slow Lane

Falling into the leisurely island rhythm of the Seychelles, where luxury means savouring life and natural beauty

By Chaitali Patel

Paradise’ is a word used liberally when referring to the Seychelles, a sprinkling of islands just south of the equator in the Indian Ocean, and it’s easy to see why. An archipelago of 115 islands, nature clearly puts her best foot forward here. With blindingly white beaches, the ocean a collage of blues and greens, forest covered islands and dramatic sunsets, the first people to arrive on these distant lands in the 18th century couldn’t have been faulted for thinking they had indeed chanced upon paradise.

Colonized by the French and then the British, Seychelles got its independence in 1976. Today, the Seychellois are a mix of people with African, French and Asian lineage.

During our trip, my husband, daughter and I discover that no matter where you come from, eventually everyone becomes an islander. For the brief 13 days we spent there, we did, too. Our days fell into a rhythm suited to island life. There was time for everything. The only distractions were not things to do but the sheer magnificence of our setting.

In Praslin, the second biggest island, the family-owned Coco de Mer Hotel and Black Parrot Suites became our adopted home for a week. Located on the less crowded southwestern edge of the island, our room opened onto a grassy patch studded with bendy palms and the unending ocean beyond.

CATAMARANS AT ANSE GEORGETTE, PRASLIN ISLAND

˝ TORSTEN DICKMANN

One morning on a nature walk with the hotel’s gardener Jamie, we hiked deep into the steamy forest flanking the property. Our city-bred daughter has all her senses on high alert as we walk past palm spiders the size of a side plate and crunch our way on layers of fallen leaves with skinks running amok. It takes some gentle coaxing to get her to bite into the blush pink, watery coco plum fruit that Jamie calls nature’s marshmallow.

WALKING ON VALL.E DE MAI NATURE TRAIL

˝ MICHEL DENOUSSE

WATERFALL IN VALL.E DE MAI NATURE RESERVE

˝ TORSTEN DICKMANN

A little further, he crushes a cinnamon leaf and holds it up to our nose. Instantly, we recall the octopus curry served to us at dinner the previous night. Talking about trees, we quiz Jamie about the palm tree outside our room with gigantic fronds and a smooth curvaceous fruit. He breaks into a shy smile and tells us that our hotel gets its name from this tree endemic to the Seychelles.

OCTOPUS CURRY

˝ MICHEL DENOUSSE

Once found abundantly across the island of Praslin, now the best place to see the coco de mer trees is the Vallée de Mai nature reserve, one of the smallest UNESCO Heritage Sites in the world. Walking past palms towering more than 30 metres, some completely blocking out the sun, we learn that the reason for Jamie’s shy smile is the unusual shape of the coco de mer seed. The largest nut in the world, female seeds are shaped like a well-rounded woman’s derriere and the male seed like a phallus.

HOLDING THE FRUIT OF A COCO DE MER TREE

˝ MICHEL DENOUSSE

At Anse Georgette, another of Praslin’s beach gems accessible only via a long walk through the plush Constance Lémuria, we are welcomed by a raging ocean and a sharp evening sun. The slanting rays make everything more vivid. Under low-lying takamaka trees, we spread our towels and bask in the sublime beauty of our surroundings. And just when I thought life could not get any sweeter, Gregory, who runs the fresh fruit stall at the fringe of the beach, offers us half a coconut.

Although a speck in the vast ocean, Seychelles offers up surprises around every corner. We get to Anse Lazio, touted to be one of Praslin’s best beaches, and find it blissfully empty. Hawking of any kind is banned on Seychelles’ beaches and this is probably why they feel like well-kept secrets that we stumbled upon by accident.

Before I can dig in, he brings out a dented plastic jar and scoops out a spoonful of thick nougat the colour of amber. His grandmother’s specialty, the chewy nougat, made from fresh coconut, mashed banana, brown sugar and spiked with heady vanilla, strikes all the right notes. Gregory urges me to take more but I politely decline, only to run back later sheepishly asking for another helping. I don’t know if it was the ingredients or the setting, but everything tasted better in the Seychelles.

VIEW OF PETITE ANSE, MAH.

˝ MICHEL DENOUSSE

In Mahé, the largest island and home to the capital city of Victoria, we check into the sprawling Constance Ephélia, the largest resort in the Seychelles. With an array of amenities and two beaches (one part of the Port Launay Marine National Park), Ephelia leaves no stone unturned. But as our holiday comes to an end, I realize that true luxury goes deeper than material comforts. It is having the time to genuinely slow down and savour life. That Seychelles makes this easy to do, may just be why it’s called paradise.