Those who love me say, I am nice and cool, lush and lively. Those who hate me complain about the rain, the fog and the traffic. There’s nothing in between.
I think the English were sorry to discover my virtues so late; it was only after a cholera epidemic that they moved their wives and children up onto my lovely heights. However once there, they were so enchanted with my fresh and clear waters, fragrant air and evergreen surroundings, that they built the city of Curepipe, perfect with its botanical garden and recreational zone atop volcano Trou aux Cerfs in my honour.
Although some claim that I am congested and overcrowded, that’s not true at all! Yes, I have those big city centres, like said Curepipe, or Quatre Bornes with its busy roads and huge market. I also have elegant Floreal though, where the upper classes dwell in splendour and textile is a big word. The university is built on my premises, same as budding Cyber City at Ebene; truly local Vacoas with the best vegetable and fruit market on the island, or scholarly Moka. But around those busy city centres and roads, I still retain my charm and original beauty, which lured the colonial Brits towards me, and the many who followed in their footsteps.
The National Park for instance, extends way into my deep green folds; same as sacred lake Ganga Talao, or the tea plantations Bois Cheri, Corson and La Chartreuse. But there’s still a lot more to me: Abundantly green fields, blue lakes, stunning viewpoints and cascading waterfalls. I am the centre of the island; the point of absolute accessibility, the hub from where, thanks to the new roads, each region can be reached in just a few minutes time.
