Beware of Seychelles laziness syndrome. Even fairytale beaches will not cure him

If a traveler from Europe arrives here, four and a half degrees below the equator, it would be a sin to stay only in the capital Victoria. Not that there isn't enough to see here, but you can find the real paradise on earth on the nearby islands of Praslin and La Digue. And since we are in Paradise on earth, there will be no sin and we will go to visit them.

From the Seychelles capital Victoria, the nearby Praslin takes an hour with a modern turbine-powered catamaran. As soon as the boat stops at the pier, tourists find themselves besieged by taxi drivers and guides who take them to one of the luxury resorts, where they literally read your wishes. The only thing he can't handle is the weather. Karen, our tour guide, shrugs, and the manager of Paradise Sun Resort adds, "I've been living in the Seychelles for ten years and March and April have always been rainless."

White beaches, turquoise water cool on the beach. Seychelles at a glance.

Rain drums into the roof of the building, which actually has no walls, and water flows down the lush vegetation, which is waging an unequal struggle with civilization. In "bad" weather can be more than three hundred kilometers wide cyclone, which licked part of the islands. It's under a cloud, but the tropical slug has gone as fast as it came. I don't mind the cloudy sky, the sun is tanning through the veil of clouds and the water in the sea is thirty degrees. The beach couldn't be whiter. It is no longer sand, but powder. An ideal place to gain strength after an 18-hour journey.

Fifty girls prefer

The neighboring island of La Digue is a 15-minute ferry ride from Praslin. What surprises you at first glance is the large number of cyclists. The authorities deliberately limit the number of cars on the island, and in addition to a few taxis and trucks adapted for transporting tourist expeditions, you will meet a few golf carts and then only cyclists.

In practice, it looks like bike renters will jump on you right after landing and offer their goods. "I'd rather have fifty girls than fifty bikes," laughs Nedy, one of the landlords. Not far from the port, he has a brick shed in line with the others, where he stores and maintains his wealth. It tightens the screws and cleans one of the wheels of mud. The government has made the island a cyclone on earth and Nedy a potential millionaire, but it's not free.

"You have a hundred Seychelles rupees for a license for each round, then another hundred rupees for insurance. And you still have to add a tax of 15%, "calculates the" pitfalls "of the local small business. I offer to help him take one of the bikes to the harbor, but he just laughs. "I'll take three, like everyone else on this island." But he laughs again. "There is no fixed, my friend. If you're willing to pay 500, you'll pay 500, "he laughs and disappears into the main street.

After all, we prefer to take a truck and let ourselves be taken to the Belle Vue viewpoint first. The magical view of the panorama of the neighboring islands is a bit spoiled by the clouds, but on a sunny day, the view from the bar suspended below the top must be breathtaking. Any dizziness can be driven away by local beer or a hint of Seychelles rum Takamaka.

We continue to the famous Grand Anse beach. Along the way, we meet several groups of tourists who went to the lookout on bikes or on foot. Everyone is sweaty that T-shirts can be squeezed. Fortunately, there is a place to refresh yourself along the way. Here and there there are bars between the houses and the banana trees - more like local huts. But beer and lemonade are always well-chilled, so they come in handy in a fight with the sun and almost 100% humidity.

A few hundred meters from the beach, the asphalt road ends in the middle of the forest and only a muddy road leads. Behind the lush vegetation, in which the entrance to the beach is trampled, there is a surf treasure. Beating waves can be heard from a distance. At the entrance to the beach is a cottage with bar and barbecue. Line up from here the smell of roasted barracuda.

From left and right, the beach is closed to Seychelles, typically by red granite boulders. And between them surf and white sand. Above all, a mist floats from the water sprayed from the waves. If you manage to get over the red boulders, you will see another beautiful beach. And then more and more. When a surfer appears in the waves, the picture is perfect. Basically the whole island of La Digue is one big endless beach.

However, Anse Source d'Ergent is considered the Queen of LaDigue. "I would never move out of here," Derek said. It sits in the shade of a takamaka tree, which shades the white sand in sight of the beach, whose image is perhaps not missing in any bedekr. He supervises the children who are playing in the surf nearby. Kissing rocks rise in sight, water lilies fly overhead.

Derek has lived here for forty-two years. It doesn't look like it. Locals have usually fallen at four o'clock, but they are not yet. "I'm an artist," he explains. He carves souvenirs at home and sells them to tourists. He is lucky. Nothing forces him to move. His acquaintances are worse off. They moved here more than ten years ago from Belgium, where they did not feel safe because of their faith. And now it is said that they have received notification from the authorities that they should leave Seychelles. "You can imagine how they feel, can't you?" You know I understand.

The plan is beginning to mature in me. I will stay here. I don't bother with work for a start. I will feed on coconuts. There are a ton of them all around. I pick one up, I browse the beach, looking for an object to open it for. The locals have already shown me several times how to get to the juice and fatty flesh hidden inside. The last time a few hours ago, Mava, a guide from the L'Union Estate eco-park, where they prepare coconut oil in the traditional way. Although she had shoulders like Michael Phelps and wielded a machete like a Sandokan, I believe. But what to open in the middle of the coconut beach?

I remember Tom Hanks fighting the nut in the Castaway. That could work. Nearby is a trunk with a conveniently pointed branch. I take the nut in my hands, I stretch and strike with all my might against the tip. The coconut washes in my hands and bounces off. Again. And again and again and again. My palms burn after a while, a small crack in the peel on each of the three sides where I aimed my blows. I try to be accurate and hit it, but at the same time be strong enough. Which is hard, though, when you have a picture of Tom Hanks in his head, who almost lost his hand in the film. Eventually, after a few minutes of pounding, I manage to peel off a third of the skin and the hole gets closer to the core. The fibers will scratch my fingers in a moment. Mava comes to mind again. According to him, when the locals work on the plantation and do not have any toilet paper with them, they use this. Somehow I can't believe it. I can still get to the coconut, but it looks like I wouldn't make a living on the island like that.

"Especially calm, relax," Nedy urges me. "And drop the watch," he whistles. Indeed, as the only party sitting in the harbor under a ficus, I have them on my hands and I keep checking the time. I can't miss boarding the ferry back to Praslin. I stumbled upon Nedy, the morning's landlord, in the harbor. He dares dominoes at the table with his friends. They beat the dice on the table and keep giggling. "When it rains, he has more business," he points to a colleague who spins hyunday keys in his hand between the dice. "And when it's nice, I'll rent more bikes," Nedy grins as he writes an e-mail on his Samsung S7.

He speculates on how to bypass customs and get a shipment from Germany to the island. "Come play with us," he urges me. "And don't stress!" He warns me. My ship is leaving in ten minutes. I would also cry if I had to leave here after a few years. But I'll be back one day. I'll borrow a bike from Nedy, ride it to the beach, play dominoes with the guys in the evening, and drink local beer. But first I will have to come up with the job.

Touching the prince brings good luck

"Haven't you tasted a millionaire's salad yet?" A French tourist surprises me the next morning with a serious question. He shakes his head in disbelief, saying that I have to taste the delicacy from the unpeeled male flowers of the local endemic palm Deckenia nobilis immediately. But it will have to wait for another time. Here in the Fond Ferdinand Reserve, they would drive me if I started peeling buds from their palm trees. So at least I'm trying to put a bud from the bud on my head, following the example of our guide. The locals use them as hats during the rain.

So far, however, he is pouring from us. It's under a cloud, but it's stuffy in the laundry. Karen and I are tracking a group of other tourists. We have time to enjoy the tranquility and all the scents of the tropical rainforest. We went through several levels before reaching the top of Praslin Island. Down behind us in the valley of the Ferdinand Reserve is a green carpet of palm trees. And in front of us is a view of Praslin and its port. "Seychelles is said to be a paradise on earth. And it is also said that the forests on Praslin are the remains of the original Eden Garden, ”Karen explains.

A large number of endemic plants grow here on 122 hectares. Especially the unique Seychelles, the largest coconut tree called Coco de Mer. The shape of the nut is absolutely eloquent. The halves look like a female shame. Such a quarter meter away. And to make the comparison to Adam and Eve fit perfectly, the male organ resembles a penis. And proper. It is said that the lucky one who touches the ripening nut awaits him. I'm not superstitious, but you never know. I will also touch it for sure. I would almost scare the gecko, which found refuge in the folds of the fruit. Along with insects, it is the lizards that pollinate the rare plant.

If you don't hold on to superstitions, be sure to head to Anse Lazio Beach. From the terrace, the restaurant, hidden under the trees, descends on the white sand straight into the sea. The panorama of the waves breaking on the granite rock must get even the hardest cynic. If that doesn't work, I recommend stretching between the stone blocks and reaching the end of the beach. There awaited entrance to the forest and a bar up the stairs. If you're looking for a place to sew for the rest of your life, I'd try it here. So I imagine a bar at the end of the world.

You don't have to worry about any exotic diseases in Seychelles. There is no risk of malaria or yellow fever. You just have to watch out for laziness syndrome. It is said that it threatens anyone who moves here for a long time. He is said to be entering inconspicuously.

If you do decide to succumb to the syndrome, I recommend spending Sunday lounging on Beau Vallon beach on the main island of Mahé. You do not have to worry at all that it is probably the most popular beach in the Seychelles. There are plenty of people here on Sunday, but they are evenly distributed in the shade of the trees along its entire length. In addition, you will know how those who have already succumbed to the laziness syndrome are doing. The champions are local. They start parties with food, drink and music on the back of their pickups. The main promenade is lined with stalls with grilled fish, freshly fried bananas and fresh coconuts.

The prices are ridiculous. Somehow I could spend every Sunday. Actually, not just Sunday. I'd rather disappear than the syndrome get me too. But I secretly promise myself that next year, for example, I will celebrate May Day with dancing with local workers on the beach. I met that party on Praslina. "I hope to meet you here next week," one of the dreadlocks on the beach tells me with a sign saying the best place to snorkel. It's a week until May Day. They're going to celebrate "Workers Day." Together with a group of friends, he builds an improvised stage for DJs. And everyone seems to be celebrating now. Three to four people are involved in attaching one pole, even though they started so early. I feel like the syndrome is starting to bother me.