Mauritius

January 17–22, 2012

A fairly strange place.

The Dodo bird used to inhabit these parts, but the French ate them all over two hundred years ago. The French left Mauritius the Creole language (a sort of broken French), the British—driving on the left and the road surface markings. The Mauritians themselves have nothing to call their own except tourism and sugar cane.

The pedestrian crossing signs were once text-only (just like in the USSR—see Yegoryevsk).

Today, there are “pedestrian crossing ahead” signs shortly before pedestrian crossings.

The pedestrian crossing sign itself appears about 50 meters further down the road.

The traffic lane separation line turns into a zigzag right before the crossing—this was invented by British psychologists, who discovered that drivers feel uncomfortable passing other cars when there are markings like this, which is exactly what’s required in this case (it’s the same in England).

No honking.

A digger.

There’s radar speed limit enforcement in place.

Street posts have signs pointing to payphones.

The payphones are quite varied. From half-booths.

To freestanding boxes.

The post boxes are also all different.

The main type of sidewalk railing consists of fairly massive pipes welded together into a structure of the required length.

Utility poles are almost all made of wood, like in the USA.

There are reflector thingies on the poles, tree stumps and rocks by the road.

Palm trees are planted along the roads for tourists’ enjoyment.

For tourists’ further enjoyment, cell towers are also disguised as palm trees (like in Zambia or Botswana).

License plates aren’t particularly remarkable in any way. But they’re convenient—the last two digits indicate the year the plate was issued.

All freight vehicles have diagonal red and yellow stripes on the back (like in Mozambique).

Insurance and inspection certificates under car windshields.

Policemen wear caps with checkered bands, like their British colleagues.

A composite information stand at a construction site (like in Madagascar or Tanzania).

On Sundays, the streets are completely deserted—everyone drives out to the ocean to enjoy the great outdoors.

Mauritius Island and St. Pierre

Many people think that Mauritius is all villas and resorts.

In reality, everyone lives like this. Yet the people are laid-back and friendly.

There’s sugar cane everywhere. Oh, excuse me, that was a bird that flew by.

Sugar cane.

Trash cans in the capital resemble Vaseline jars (or ink pots).

A pedestrian traffic light.

A vehicle traffic light.

A couple of tall buildings.

The market is closed on the weekends.

A man selling goldfish.

An island bus stop.

Only one part of the island has a decent highway (with stair-less overpasses that are easy to use for motorcyclists). Otherwise, it takes at least an hour to get anywhere.

Rodrigues Island and Port Mathurin

The bus stops are simpler here.

But the trash cans are more sophisticated.

You can cover the island’s capital on foot at a very leisurely pace in about 15 minutes.

The general store sells baby chicks.

Instead of the single day which the island merits, I ended up spending three whole days here because a cyclone hit unexpectedly, all flights were cancelled and there was heavy rain, wind and palm trees going nuts for two days straight.

* * *

In short, Mauritius isn’t the kind of place that makes you want to drop anchor for very long.