Near the Cabana Bar, Mariola turns left and continues along a path. A few bright-eyed guests are out jogging. How they manage such a feat is a mystery to me. I’d crumple expending that much energy in the blistering hot weather. A couple of families have taken prime position on the beach and are busy making sandcastles. The volleyball court is bereft of buff bodies, a crying shame. On the grassed area the three Lucys are doing yoga, and by the looks of it, are a lot more flexible than I am.
‘Most of the guests are at breakfast this hour,’ Mariola says, as if sensing my thoughts. ‘It’s nice when it’s this quiet, but also sort of lonely.’
It does have a different feel this time of the morning, a stillness as if the resort is holding its breath, waiting for the day to start in earnest. The water gently laps in the pool with no swimmers. The Cabana Bar is empty of merry makers. Sun loungers sit forlorn waiting for sunbathers. There’s no music pumping through speakers, just the beat of the runners’ footsteps along the path, the occasional shriek of the children running in and out of the shallows. ‘I’m sure it’ll be noisy enough after breakfast.’
‘It will. Today there’s a football competition, taking place on the Bilimbi Green where the Lucys are doing yoga. We hold a lot of outdoor activities there. Archery, badminton, dodgeball. There’s also a cooking class for guests in the Papaya Pavilion. Today they’re making Creole curry and breadfruit. Legend has it that, if you eat breadfruit on the islands of the Seychelles, it’s guaranteed you’ll return one day.’
‘Guaranteed by who?’
She laughs and gives a shrug. ‘Legend makers!’
I laugh with her. ‘I love that. What exactly is breadfruit? I wish I could join in the cooking class and get to know all about Seychellois food.’
‘You’ll get time. We have activities every day and staff are encouraged to attend in their downtime; to experience them too, so they can inform guests of what to expect. Breadfruit is known as “the tree of life”. It’s a starchy fruit that’s native to the Seychelles. It’s sweet and nutty and used in so many types of dishes. You can boil, fry or roast it. It’s used in curries too.’
‘Starchy, so sort of like a potato?’
‘Sort of but sweeter. Very versatile. It’s a staple of Seychelles dishes which are a fusion of African, French, Indian and Chinese influences, spiced and packed with flavour.’
My belly grumbles with hunger thinking about all the spicy aromatic dishes I plan on tasting.
‘The Seychelles seems to be mix of so many cultures.’
‘Well, the islands of the Seychelles were uninhabited by people until 1756 when the explorer Lazare Picault claimed them for France. Later, French farmers brought African slaves to the islands. In 1810, control passed to the British and with them came labourers from Southeast Asia. The majority of the population are now Seychellois Creole, but our ancestry here is a melting pot of many nationalities due to trade, colonisation and immigration.’
‘Such beautiful islands to have such a dark past with slavery and colonisation.’
‘Yes, but it’s important to talk about it. In Victoria, on the island of Mahé, is the Seychelles National Museum of History that has many exhibits about our history. It’s very educational if you’d like to learn more.’
‘I’d really like that. Maybe we could go together on a day off?’
‘For sure.’ Mariola waves to a couple walking hand in hand and manages by a sheer margin not to run them over. ‘Ooh, that was close! Anyway, are you keen to join in the football match after work? I can add your name to the team.’
I make a face. ‘I can’t wait to participate in some of the activities, but not football. Too much running, too many opportunities to fall over my own feet. I’ll happily spectate.’
She lifts a brow. ‘Uh-huh.’
‘Not like that!’
‘Sure, Harper.’
I smother a grin. ‘I’m only interested in fictional men for the moment. My boyfriend just broke up with me, via Instagram stories.’
She wrinkles her nose. ‘Really? On stories, not even with a phone call?’
‘Yeah.’ I grimace, not wanting to get into that whole saga again.
‘Harsh.’
‘Very.’
‘Well, perhaps you’ll find a new boyfriend here when you’re ready?’
A wave rolls in, crashing close to the beach. ‘I’m not sure how long I’ll be here for.’ The wind and waves whip my words away.
‘That’s what they all say.’
‘What do you mean?’
