Mayotte

  Mayotte, Mayotte
Sunday, June 25, 2006

Sat 24th June Nosy Be (Madagascar) - Mamoudzou (Mayotte)
Our flight leaves about midday, which is quite funny as our ticket says 12.45, and we've confirmed the ticket twice, giving our hotel address as well, and no-one's said anything about a time change. Just as well we came early to make sure there was no stuff-up.
We're heading for Mayotte, one of four Comorian islands (actually Mayotte consists of three main islands - Grand Terre, the main one, Petite Terre where the airport is located, and the rock of Dzaoudzi, linked to Petite Terre by a causeway). The other three Comorian islands (Grande Comore, Anjouan and Moheli) are the independent Union des Comores, but Mayotte is an overseas territory of France, and its people are French citizens. They are in the process of changing its status to an overseas department, like Reunion, which would bring even closer administrative links with France. From previous experience (French Polynesia, Noumea, Martinique) we know it'll be expensive.
We wait in the domestic lounge, as they don't open the international until the last moment. We then have to wait outside till the flight to the Comores is checked in. Talk to the French couple we met on the snorkel trip, and who live in Mayotte. They suggested we should get a taxi together at Mayotte.
It is only a 45 minute flight, open seating, and there are spare windows, even though there are transit pasengers aboard, so we get one each side, and take the usual blurry photos of the coastline and the odd island on the way.
See a Reunion paper, which has three quarters of a page devoted to the historic qualification of Australia in the last sixteen of the World Cup soccer, which is the first confirmation we've had of the result.
Fly over some coral reef on the way.

It is blowing hard in Mayotte, and the sea and shoreline are not all that attractive looking,

even though there are plenty of islands. We can see that there are mangroves and no sandy beaches, and a lot of the sea is discoloured. Also take photo of small islands of Dzaoudzi (where airport is) and Petite Terre which are joined by a causeway.


Have a bit of a problem in immigration. We are last through, having filled in our forms late. They probably haven't seen too many tourists, and want to look at our onward tickets, and have a good look at our visas. Eventually a senior officer says we are OK, and we pick up our bags on the now silent carousel, and join the French couple to go through the green lane, and out to get the 4 of us and bags into a small taxi. The taxis are newer than in Madagascar, but it is still a tight fit. They have rung a friend who has a hire-car company, but he says all the cars are gone, as it's the weekend, so back to the drawing board.
The ferry to the mainland is a landing barge car ferry, quite big, and is free in this direction. Leave our bags on the car deck, and sit upstairs at the rear. The crossing is not long, and on the mainland side we decline the French couple's offer of a lift, and drag our bags across the street to the bank, where we pick up E300, then go looking for information. It is Saturday afternoon, and everything useful is closed, including the tourist office and all the tour companies. There is more of an African feel to the centre of town, with the women dressed in bright wraps, with scarfs tied around their hair. Quite a few have a face mask of sandalwood paste (white or pale yellow), which is supposed to make them beautiful, but sure makes them look strange while it's doing so. The size of the women has also changed dramatically - lots of very large women. Work out from the very ordinary map, that our target hotel is up a steep street, even though it is only 200 metres. Pretty hot when we get to the top, only to find all the louvre doors of the building closed. Try to ask next door, but get an unconvincing answer. Try again, and a skinny, middle-aged Frenchman in baggy shorts answers the door. He is apologetic, as he is full, as most of the hotels will be, because there is a fireman's (pompier's) conference? in town, and they've had to find accommodation for forty five of them. He gives us some names, but we don't have a phone card, or a taxi, so decide to walk back to the flash hotel, and hang the expense. It looks simple on the map, but walk half the town, in the heat, to get to the hotel, which is almost where we started.
At E102, or $A168, this is a pretty expensive hotel, even with breakfast, for a two-star hotel that has no frills whatsoever, and looks like it's had nothing done since it was built thirty years or so ago. We debate how many nights we will have; settle on 2, then ask about 3, but find they are full on Monday. At least we have breakfast, and they do have a pool, of sorts.
We settle into our very ordinary room on the second floor (old lino floor, old curtains and bedspreads), have a hot shower, and start to feel human again. DP, who is feeling hyperactive after her forced rest at Nosy Be, is out after information, internet, tour companies, anything, but comes back only with tomatoes and tinned salad Nicoise for our imported Malagasy bread. Had been hoping to organise a boat tour for tomorrow, but no information anywhere.
She has found an internet open till 6, and we go up and upload diary, but fail with our photos.
Later, go out to look for dinner. Check out the only food place open, the bar down at the wharf, but decide we will give it a miss, and dine in style at the hotel patisserie and restaurant. Settle for a salad described as Nicoise, but it was mainly potato and veg, no tuna, and a heap of lettuce. Also got two E3 cokes, without asking the price, then nursed them while two locals set up some big boom boxes and a screen. Waited a long while to find out they were setting up a Karaoke system. Listened to a few numbers from the organisers, but got out before the real amateurs from the audience of a dozen white men and a woman started. Could hear more than we needed from our room on the second floor. This was the extent of the action in the town. Starting to see why the locals go to Nosy Be.
Fairly noisy night, with traffic till 4am, and the air con cycling all night.
Sun 25th June Mamoudzou - (Mayotte)
Breakfast at our "flash" hotel was a mixed blessing - cereal, but with sourish milk, fruit juice (water based) fruit (but cut the night before), Pastries ( but doughy), and the staff and clients all pretty surly. The bread, cheese and ham, however, were OK.
Take some photo of the "flash" horizon pool, with a host of market shanties between the hotel and the sea,

then pack a single pack with snorkeling gear, and head out to find the taxis-brousse to the north. We had been worried that we only had two full days here, and that Sunday may have been wasted as we couldn't book a tour, or hire a car, or even get any information, but talked to a young guy in the hotel foyer who said the taxi brousses were easy to use.
After a false start, walk through the empty market to the eastern ferry causeway, and find a small taxi waiting with one passenger. Two women are about to get in, but are rejected in favour of us. We get the back seat, but have to share it. We are under the impression that it will cost us E2 each for the 40 minute trip. Seems cheap, as we are going a long way.
The coastline for most of the way is pretty enough, but discouraging for would-be snorkellers, as the tide is out, and the foreshore is very muddy. Take photos out of the dirty window, past our fellow passenger, but don't expect any great results. We lose our passenger for a short time, then pick up another, so don't get much of a go at the sea-side window. Get petrol at an industrial port area, and carry on for a surprising distance, climbing high on the mountainside, starting to see some better shoreline, and islands.
Looking at the map, we decide to get out at M'Tsahara, which looks closer to the sea on the map. Surprised to be hit E10 for the two of us, having, we assume, confused deux euros with dix euros. Still not too bad for the distance, compared with Seychelles taxis.
We see the sign to Loc'Action, for which we have a flash looking brochure showing the sandy Ilots de Choazil, dolphins, jetskis and kayaks.

As we walk towards the beach, we realise there won't be too much of this, as the tide is out a couple of hundred metres,

and there is not a boat in sight. At the waterfront, we see a surprising number of plastic canoes stacked on racks, but no real sign of operators, or tourists. The village looks quite poor, and is Islamic, with narrow streets and concrete block houses - could have been Pakistan.


We can look out to the islands, which have good coloured water around them, but there is a nasty, choppy channel between the point and the islands.

Walk to the end of the beach, decide against the half km clamber over rocks to the end, having checked out the muddy rock sea bottom, and some young boys catching rockpool fish.
Take a steep shortcut through the school up to the main road, and over a saddle past a large, but deserted-looking tourist development on the skyline. The next bay looks a bit more promising, as it is still shallow, but has a channel to near the shore and a few boats. We can see a large group of people out in waist (waste?) deep water forming a semicircle, looks like local women out with nets.
See some of the bachelor housing we've heard about - makeshift houses with all sorts of signs printed on them


Walk down a steep street to the waterfront road, then along to where they are lines marking a soccer field, then onto the beach. No sign of any tourist-oriented activity. Walk the beach, find a coca-cola sign. Turns out to be Restaurant Le Choizil, which is supposed to have boat tours. Get no enthusiam from the waitress - just manage to get a coke out of her. Decide to continue on the main road, after checking another group of local women who are wading in the sea with lengths of cloth. Think they may be washing it, but come back to the beach with heaps of sardines. Turns out they were using curtains, old sails and anything else they could find to catch them.


The next village is M'Tsamboro, our original destination. The town has a town square and town hall (mairie) at the waterfront, and a commercial street, A collection of cars, and a group of Islamic men indicate this might be a transport hub, but we get no offers. The tide is still out, the beach is still muddy, so we head back up the hill to a likely spot to try our luck with transport.
Look hopefuly at a number of fair-sized cars, and get our books out to wait. Make a half hearted attempt to stop a bus full of teenage boys. To our surprise, it does stop, and we get in, having asked for Mamoudzou, and the boys make room for us. We travel hopefully, pleased with every km, as there is not a lot of traffic about. Get to a soccer field in a back street of Kaweni, the industrial suburb, where all the boys get out. Figure this is the end of the line, but told to get back in, going to the jetty. Let off right outside the hotel, for E4 each.
Do a long, futile walk around the difficult central area looking for anything that's open, but end up settling for a drink from the coke machine right near the hotel, before collapsing. Later DP goes out to get bread for our tinned Salad Nicoise, which is a bit disturbing as it's like the one that we had inflicted on us at the hotel, but at least it has tuna in it. MP uses the phone to book Le Rocher hotel (for E62) on Dzaoudzi, the island attached to Petite Terre, the airport island.
Late in the afternoon, get energy back enough to walk to the park below Sultan Adriansouli's tomb on the high headland at the west end of town. The expats are out exercising with their children, plus athletic locals, and hoons 2 up on scooters. See some large fruit bats, same size as at home, but paler. These have learned to soar on the sea breeze, and look more like birds.
Walk past a celebration of things Malagassy, with a public meeting, stalls, sportsmen etc then in a loop back to the hotel for more bread and salad, and a look at England v/s Ecuador in the soccer. We have seven channels on the TV, but all are in French.
No karaoke tonight, for which we are grateful.
Mon 26th June Mamoudzou - (Mayotte)
After breakfast, pack and take our bag to the reception, and talk them into keeping 3 bags, and our passports till 4pm, and we will pay then. As we have no further duties, head straight to the Southern taxi-brousse station. Our first try gets us taxis, directed further along where we see Renault 9-seater vans drawn up beside a taxi sign. Get a run almost straight away to N'Gouja, on the South- west coast. There seems to be a little hesitation, and find out why later. There are only 9 in the van to start off, and it is pretty comfortable in the back seat, even though we don't have an opening window, but, as the journey progresses, we fill up to 4 a seat, and the contours of the seat, which make it very comfortable for the right number, become instruments of torture. The trip is quite scenic, mainly along the East coast until we cross a small saddle to the west coast. It is still blowing hard, and though there are a lot of islands offshore, the coast is not attractive for snorkelling, and not all that flash for beaches and general swimming, although the signposted beaches do get better as we get further south. The west coast looks pretty good boating-wise, and from the higher point of the road, we can see waves breaking several kms out on the barrier reef.
We are able to follow the road signs, to know we are going in the right direction, but get to the narrow isthmus at Mirereni, where it becomes plain that the taxi-brousse is actually heading for Boueni, the point to the north, whereas we want the point to the east. It is explained in fractured French that the usual way to get to N'Gouja is to get a taxi from here via M'zouazia for 4.5 km. We ask where the taxi-brousse is heading, and are told Boueni. We say, OK, we will go there, as it is as good a bet as any, and we can always walk around the peninsular. This confuses our driver, who asks "change de programme?" We say oui, and off we go. A couple of kms down the road, the driver stops by a sign to a hotel. Our fellow travellers are convinced that this is where we need to be, so we pay our E4 each, and head down the hill to the Baie des Tortues (turtles) hotel.
The hotel is surprisingly nice, with a large, airy restaurant underneath, and a couple of tourist girls breakfasting. It is too early for a drink, so we walk out onto the brown sand beach, and north to the rocks where we have our customary look "around the corner". Decide there is no interesting snorkelling to be had here, and head south. The coastline has a definite dropoff a couple of hundred metres out, but the water is choppy, and the visibility low.
The sand is pretty soft, quicksand in places, but not deep. We walk around a headland, probably difficult at high tide, and come to a wide beach with a small settlement behind it. Decide to shortcut across at the edge of the water, but stop halfway when the sun, which has been hiding all morning, comes out to show some reasonable coral and a drop-off not far out.


MP is reluctant, but DP decides to give it a go, and finds surprisingly good plate coral to a metre across, and other live hard coral not far out. Not a real coral garden, but definitely healthy. She stops before getting to the surf and possibly current area. There were quite a few small reef fish, and a decent-sized moray eel. MP decides to take her word for it, and we walk on around a steep headland with a wide rocky foreshore. There are women out on the rocks collecting, but no-one seems to have had a go at the proliferation of oysters, possibly a Muslim taboo.
On the south side of the point, there is a drop-off only 100 metres out, but there are fair-sized waves, and no visibility short of the dropoff, so MP, whose turn it is, declines. Half a km in, the rocky shelf becomes mangrove flats, so we apply anti-sandfly, and take a good path around the back of the mangroves, on the high water mark. Meet a local man with a big machete, then an European woman. While checking out the large, fresh holes in the sand for crabs, we notice in the undergrowth what looks like a dog. It is a fresh corpse, of what was a large, healthy looking short haired, yellow-brown dog. The corpse has a loop of strong fishing line tied around the neck, which is stretched upward to where the line is tied to a tree. Looks suspiciously like an execution. 200m along the beach is another dog's body, this time a large, hairy dog, half buried in the sand. We are reminded of the Thai situation, where the Muslims don't like dogs, and actively exterminate them. Later in our hotel, we read that there is a campaign going on to discourage dog-killing. 44 have been killed in March alone.
We carry on, a bit spooked, but stop at the boat ramp in the nearby village, M'Zouazia to consider our moves. We can see a small point, with a village on the other side, and a long, high rocky point leading to our original destination. We talk to a 60'ish local Muslim about the chance of walking the shoreline. He indicated that it was possible as far as the next village, but no further. Certainly, this proved to be the case as the tide came in.
We walked to a park at the end of the beach, rested to dress more decoriously, and talked to an Austrian couple who had walked for 2 hours from our destination, N'Gouja, where they were staying. Had the usual Austria/Autralia jokes - his uncle had been in Oz for 55 years. See sign showing it as 2.5 km from here, so decide to continue walking.
See some better beaches on the way,

some with shading trees, and immense baobabs. Have to walk either faster or slower than the Austrians, as we didn't have enough common language to continue conversing. There is no-one at the cafe at the village, and we would have killed for a coke at this stage. Had to settle for a sip from our dwindling water supply.
As the road climbs towards the point, pass through some good forest, and get good view out towards Boueni, and to pale green water patches out to sea. DP, having done the swim, is pretty buggered, but soldiers on up the hill in the heat, finally rounding the point, and finding a steep road down to our destination, the Jardin Maore,

which has a flash restaurant, a dive shop and jetty, and upmarket accommodation. It looks pretty good,

but is directly exposed to 30 knots of wind. 3 sailors with short surfboards towed by kites are having a ball, slicing the water to shreds. This, unfortunately, could include the "habituated" turtles which live here. We can see the odd one surfacing.
The restaurant is pretty pricy, but have one fish tartare entree, two cokes and a big bottle of water for E20. Dianne talks to the bloke whom we have been watching snorkelling out at the dropoff. He says there is coral, and there are turtles, so DP decides to give it a go, and swims all the way out, through a rough chop, further than MP, watching from the shore thinks prudent. Sees some coral ( visibility gets better further out) and 2 big, old, weedy turtles. After a quick inspection swims all the way back fairly quickly as it's getting late to get back to town. Does a quick dry off, and up the steep hill to change in the bushes, and sit down for a while to wait for a taxi-brousse.
It is pretty quiet, and MP pushes the line to go back to where we know there is a crossroads. DP wants to carry on 2.5 kms to Kani-keli, which gives a shortcut to the N3, but this is an unknown. We end up walking back, but it doesn't seem as far as it is a long downhill, and we can see the isthmus where we hope to get a taxi brousse. Still pretty hot, and very little traffic, so try hitching on the way, but no responses. Pass a 4wd parked, with a tourist or expat on the beach, just short of the first village. Walk the main road on the way back, rather than the beach. Surprised that movement in a tree turns out to be a small group of lemur fulvus mayottensis, raiding a papaya tree. Get photos of one right inside a big papaya. Further along, we see another group, so they do exist here. Further along, the 4wd we saw earlier stops. We explain we are heading for Mahmoudzou. The driver, a really nice young French doctor with a good suntan, who's been living here two years, says he isn't going all that far, but will get us to where we can get a taxi brousse.
He has good English and has been to Oz and Tasmania recently, and is in the process of applying to join the flying doctors, but, as we have often observed, really good immigration candidates are still given a hard time getting in to Australia. He points out where he is staying, but carries on to deposit us past the turnoff to Sada, too soon, as he was interesting. He checks with a man waiting that this is the right spot, then leaves.
We set up near a wide shoulder where we think a reasonable bus driver would stop, and watch a heap of taxis-brousses carry straight through towards Sada. Hail one as it comes around the corner, and are better placed to get in when someone gets out. Suspect we were queue jumping but it is difficult to know, as we have seen people, possibly on shorter trips, giving way to longer fares. We get good seats, and don't have to let people in and out. It is a slow trip back, and we are running late to pick up our passports from the hotel safe. We can see Mahmoudzou from a long way down the coast, but progress is remarkably slow.
Just when we hit the main road, we head out into the minor suburbs. Then a worker in a yellow jacket and a hard hat has a discussion, and we head slowly up a bumpy road, we think to drop him off, but no, just so he can get money from home, then carry on.
By the time we got back on the main road, it was only us left. At this stage we were both exhausted, as we'd walked about 16 kms in the heat, and Dianne had had two long swims as well.
The manager is still at the hotel, so we get our bags and pay with no problems. Too late to internet, so get our E0.75 ferry tickets to Petit Terre, and our new hotel, which is better in every way - friendly, well located, E40 cheaper, and a nice tiled room, good bed, A/C, TV, fridge, and nice views.


MP heads out to find a spot to photograph a spectacular red sunset. Surprised that the "rock" which looks tiny on the map, goes forever. Can't find a vantage point. On the way back, passes a creperie, which had a fair menu, and a big TV. Back home, DP has found the Aust-Italy soccer is on, but the reception is bad. The receptionist only make it worse, so head to the creperie for a good look at the match, and some good steaks with lots of frittes, and a half carafe of good house merlot for E40 ish. Game was nil all at full time, then unfortunately Italy scored five minutes into injury time.
Good bed, good night's sleep after a mossie check, and filling the 50mm gap under the door with a towel. They have ALMOST got it right here, just loose ends like plumbing access holes, and a fixed hair dryer with no power point.
Tuesday 27th June Mayotte- Moroni (Comoros Islands)
Leisurely breakfast, with much better atmosphere than last hotel. Problem at checkout when we are charged, ostensibly by the computer, for two days, only picked up when MP was signing. Too hard to reverse, or credit, so we are given a E62 cash refund. Get a E2 common taxi just outside, and pick up an extra person. He lived in one of the villages, so we got the grand tour of the town on the way to the airport. There was some poor housing with sheet iron used as fencing, which was similar to the main island, although this island is where most of the expats live, and is generally more upmarket. Too early at the airport as usual, so do diary and kill time watching some sort of drama with a local who has passed through customs, and is trying to talk to someone outside, who wants more money in connection with a watch purchase. The flight is to Grande Comore, which has a mainly Muslim population, so are quite surprised by the clothing worn by some of the local women who are flying there - tight pants and brief tops.
We have allocated seats, but someone is sitting in our window seat, and have to get the attendant to sort it out. Get a window on Port side, and get views over Mayotte as we circle clockwise from south. The reef looks fantastic from the air - it is easy to see why it would be a diver's paradise if you had a boat at your disposal. Your impressions of places are definitely determined by a lot of different factors. When we arrived it was unusually windy, it was Saturday afternoon when everything was closed, followed by Sunday when everything was closed, and it was low tide in the middle of the day. If we'd arrived mid-week in calm weather and high tide, and had been able to arrange a boat trip our impressions would have been better. We'd agree with our guidebook that you could give Mayotte a miss if you weren't interested in water sports