Chocolate chip cookies, apple tarts and crème brulée cartwheeled across my daydream, but the soft yet insistent voice cut through my reverie. It must have been the coconut. After the most delicious massage I’ve ever enjoyed, I awoke covered with curly white aromatic shavings like a giant macaroon.
I had fallen asleep as my masseuse administered the ’’paillasson’’ at the spa in the Oberoi Resort on Mauritius. The therapy involved the entire coconut - first, a full body scrub with the coir husk, then a peeling with the soft, white interior and finally, a rub with scented oil.
Bliss!
But, now, my time was up and he wanted me awake and gone to my frangipani-scented shower.
Reluctantly, I rolled off the table and wrapped myself in the plush terrycloth bathrobe, slipping my feet - even they had been coconut oiled -- into the scuffs. With one last wistful glance at the waterfall out the window, I headed back to the dressing room.
One reason to visit a resort is to step out of the ordinary. Instead of deadlines and traffic, there’s leisure and tranquility. If there’s a spa on site, all the better. An appointment with someone whose only job is to pamper body and soul is a gift beyond measure.
Oberoi Resort, Mauritius.
The Oberoi Mauritius is all about retreating from reality. First of all, it’s on the island nation of Mauritius - one of those places that will cause your friends to stare at you blankly as they try to place it on the globe. (Hint: look for a small island that’s south of the equator and east of Africa.) Nobody’s likely to run across you accidentally when you’re surrounded by the Indian Ocean!
In fact, very few Indians visit Mauritius. Last year, of some 350, 000 tourists, only 39, 000 carried Indian passports. Celebrities who really want to get away from the hassles of fame come here (the ones who pretend they’re annoyed by notoriety go to Florida or Paris).
The island does have one big claim to fame. Remember the dodo bird? This is where it was driven into extinction - not so much by the colonizing Dutch, but by the housecats they brought with them (what carnivore could resist pouncing on a bird that didn’t fly away?).
The French had imported slaves from East Africa and Madagascar to work the sugar plantations they established on Mauritius, but the British outlawed slavery in the 1830s. They imported their labor in the form of indentured servants from India. When Mauritius gained independence in 1968, it remained with the British Commonwealth. Although English is the official language, most everyday conversation is in French.
The population, about 1.2 million, is an exotic mix found nowhere else in the world - 64% Indian plus lots of Chinese, Africans and Creoles plus a handful of Europeans. I was continually startled when dark-eyed women in brightly colored saris would address me in French. And I can’t think of a country in the world where you can enjoy a freshly baked croissant with a really good cup of tea.
Which brings me back to the Oberoi, featuring varied and inventive cuisine in its open-air restaurant overlooking the ocean. Opened in late 2000, it’s on the un-touristy northwest corner of the island. Spread across its 20 acres, there are 76 separate villas - sort of like guesthouses in a giant garden on the beach. Guests with a yen for complete privacy can claim one of the villas with its own swimming pool enclosed in a private garden, order room service and never venture out to mingle with the hoi polloi.
I chose the option of breakfast in my room, or, rather, on my private patio. The island abounds with tropical birds I’d never seen before, but they’re obviously used to visitors. Each morning, I had to defend my breadbasket from a couple of red, black and white feathered thieves.
Flowers are everywhere: frangipani, bougainvillea, jacaranda, orchids, hibiscus, anthurium. Every time I returned to my room, the maid had rearranged the towels and folded the clothing I’d discarded on the rattan couch - then carefully placed fresh flower blossoms in the folds.
The large marble bathroom, freshly flower-strewn each day, has a sunken tub and separate shower, both of which have only a glass wall separating them from a secluded garden.
If you can rouse yourself to leave the resort, expeditions around the island are many and varied. I enjoyed an afternoon at Pamplemousses gardens, had lunch barbecued by my captain on a boat trip to a picturesque cove, drove a bit along the Tea Route, visited a sugar plantation and took an underwater trip on a mini submarine.
The sunsets over the Indian Ocean each evening were symphonies of pastels. My only disappointment was the night sky. There was a full moon while I was on Mauritius, and its light was bright enough to keep me from spotting the Southern Cross or any other unfamiliar constellation of stars.
I had other spa treatments while hiding out at the Oberoi, but my strongest memory is of that coconut massage. I found out that its name, paillasson, means coconut in Creole. I’d go back just for that.