Wednesday, January 21, Victoria, Mahé
This morning, there’s a different receptionist at the front desk, and this one is much more attentive than the last. We tell him about our car rental troubles, and he suggests another rental company that doesn’t require a credit card imprint. He calls them, and half an hour later, it’s all settled—we’ve got a car for three days at 50 € per day, all taxes included. But the guy prefers cash, and we don’t have euros. He’s flexible, though, and accepts dollars.
But here come the disappointments. The roads are really narrow—I’d read about that—and on top of that, they’re lined with deep ditches or sidewalks that are easy to hit if you’re not used to driving on the left. Let’s just say driving here is *not* a walk in the park!!!
I’ve never been so scared in a car in my life—it’s awful, enough to make your stomach turn.
There’s practically nowhere to park, and the few spots that do exist are almost always private. And watch out for fines, the rental guy warned us.
We head toward Beau Vallon, but it’s impossible to stop—there’s nowhere to park, no way to pull over.
We keep driving along the coast toward the north of the island. But it’s so ugly! And still no way to stop.
I’d planned some hikes, but nothing is marked, and there’s nowhere to park anywhere.
When we finally do manage to park, we have to start by climbing over a barrier of trash or garbage bins just to get to the beach. And without the sun, the colors are dull.
After the trash, a little bit of nature.
What’s the Seychelles’ reputation based on? We’ll find out, I guess. For now, I’m really doubting it.
In the early afternoon, back in Victoria, we can do some shopping at the market for a light meal—sun-ripened tomatoes, mangoes, and mini bananas. Everything is delicious, at least that’s a positive.
During the hottest hours, we stay cool. At 4 PM, we head out to stretch our legs with a walk around town. It’s rush hour. Traffic and pollution are at their worst. The big public transport buses spew huge clouds of awful black smoke every time they start up. And when they’re not honking at us to get out of the way—even though we’re on the sidewalk—well, that’s just great.
The rain decides to show up just as we step outside. It’s light and not really bothersome. Most shops have already pulled down their shutters—it seems a lot of them close early, except for the handy little neighborhood stores run by Pakistanis or Indians.
We walk to the Hindu temple, which looks a little sad in the rain.
Next to the temple, there’s a friendly takeaway that’ll make our evening with some fruit.
A drop of rain was forecast for 7 PM on our app, but instead, a downpour hits us. It’s the rainy season, after all. Luckily, we’re already back inside and don’t have to go out to a restaurant like we’d originally planned.
