Minibus transfers are sooo last year” I muse to myself as we swoop over the lush mountainous interior of Mauritius en route to Beachcomber’s Shandrani Resort and the dramatic, volcanic southern coastline opens up before us.
By now I am well into the swing of the Beachcomber Experience fam, supported by Air Mauritius, and the words of Beachcomber Tours’ UK sales manager Sarah Archer – “We always like to do things a bit differently here at Beachcomber” – have proven to be an epic understatement.
Surprise and intrigue are the order of the day with a fun-packed itinerary shrouded in mystery and subterfuge. Even the helicopter transfer has its roots in artfulness: our driver from DMC Mautourco fakes a minibus breakdown on the driveway at Beachcomber Paradis and uses method acting worthy of Robert De Niro, or at least a bit part in Eastenders to convince us.
No sooner has Sarah announced “you’re beautiful people and beautiful people should travel in style” than the first chopper descends to spirit us away – and I make a mental note never to play poker with anyone from Beachcomber.
Conversely, the “Don’t Be a Dodo” challenge – sprung on us at Mauricia Beachcomber Resort & Spa one morning after a site visit – has our five teams hitching and hiking their way to Beachcomber Trou aux Biches, some four miles yonder, using whatever free transportation we can rustle up. We are also given a list of tasks to fulfill, from blagging cigarettes to snapping local landmarks on supplied cameras.
Ice cream vans, bikes, tour boats… even the coastguard is tapped up by the enterprising agents. My group’s efforts peak with a memorably squished trip in the pint-sized jeep of local DJ Dylan, a true gent who goes out of his way to deliver us to a local police station to complete our task of blagging a pic behind bars.
Aside from being a fun way to explore the Grand Baie area, the treasure hunt serves to highlight the kindness and generosity of the islanders as they help us decipher clues, offer rides and directions and even cigarettes. That includes the local police chief who obligingly poses with us for a selfie behind one of the station’s window grilles after it emerges his cells are otherwise occupied.