Exploring Reunion

As promised last time, here’s the saga of how we obtained WiFi in Reunion. The SFR shop told us we had to go to HQ. They were open Mon-Fri. It was Saturday. On the following Monday we walked to an out of town industrial estate about 6 km away. HQ was closed (for the annual stock taking) until 2.00pm. We caught the bus back, discovering the bus station in Le Port, and noting the times of buses for our afternoon expedition. On our second attempt, we met a very friendly assistant who only spoke French, but used her phone to translate information into English. Because we did not have a Reunion bank account the only package available was a 6 hour, 500mb deal limited to one month at a cost of 19 euros. We bought it and since then we’ve been careful to be online for as short a time as possible. One day gone on WiFi access.

We soon learnt that local buses cost the same as long distance buses. Both are the cheapest way of getting around. Only once did we have a misunderstanding with a driver about our destination and spent an extra hour on the bus going round Le Port before he could take us to the marina. We had a day out in the capital, St Denis, admiring French colonial buildings, an art gallery, churches and markets. At the Office de Tourisme we collected maps and bus timetables. We managed to find a café serving local food for 5 or 6 euros each and didn’t mind at all that it was also a gambling shop. We didn’t gamble, not even for 37 euro millions!

One of the properties of note in St Denis

We hired a car for four days at a cost of 130 euros, so that we could explore the mountains and do some walking. My vertigo had improved and as I’d stopped taking Stugeron, I could share the driving. We were both uncomfortable about each other’s driving. I found roundabouts quite challenging and managed to go south on an autoroute instead of north. Fortunately, we didn’t have to go too far before we could turn round. The mountain roads consist of bends and hairpins that zigzag up and down the slopes like a switchback. The first time I drove down, I didn’t get out of second gear. At the passenger side of these roads are deep, unfenced storm drains, walls or cliff faces and you meet buses and lorries as well as other cars. It was almost worth the heart attacks and the frustrating traffic jams in towns to reach the beautiful mountain trails.

Our first walk, a circular 5 and a half hour trail from Hell Bourg, was up and down steep tracks and through forest, giving us breath-taking views. Our map showed us where to turn for our return walk, but the sign said Trou Blanc, which we could not find on the map. We asked a passing hiker and he said the only way back to Hell Bourg was the way we’d come. Do we believe our map or the hiker? We followed the map. The trail was marked, we could see a piton (mountain) that we had to go round, so we kept going. No more signs until, almost one and a half hours later, one sign pointed to the way we’d come and behind it a red sign said “Sentier Ferme” (Path Closed). 

Not a good sign after four hours of walking

Our map showed a trail going off ours. I thought the sign referred to that one. Jeremy was not so sure. To our relief we soon picked up our trail markers, but it took another half hour before we saw the one and only sign that said Hell Bourg, pointing in the direction we were going. We gave thanks and with light hearts and big smiles we completed our walk. At the end of the walk a red sign said “Sentier Ferme”.

At last a sign showing we were going the correct way

Other walks were less demanding but still enjoyable. We walked around a lake called Grand Etang and into the beautiful Cirque de Marfate, which is only accessible on foot or by helicopter. Unfortunately, the mist had come down and we could see very little.

A blowhole on the south coast before it got rough!

We left Le Port on Friday 14^th September having paid our bill of just under 178 euros for 2 weeks. We anchored in St Paul’s Bay for a night finding the anchorage tolerable but not comfortable. The next day we motorsailed in light winds, looking at the marine park moorings bouncing in the swell and decided against staying on them. We carried on to St Pierre. Once around a headland called Pointe d’Etang Sale, the wind increased from 6 knots to 30 knots within minutes. Soon it was blowing a gale and continued force 7 or 8 the rest of the way. We struggled to get the mainsail down and almost turned around to return to Le Port, when we saw a yacht emerge from St Pierre. 

The entrance to St Pierre from the safety of a breakwater

 If they could come out, we could go in. So we did, eventually picking up the leading lines. Brian from “Tagish” helped us tie up. The wind caught the bows as Jeremy reversed into a berth and we found ourselves sideways. The stern missed “Leto”. The port side bow caught the bow anchor on a German boat. I managed to get a fender between the boats but could not prevent the anchor scraping our toerail. With help, we secured SD into the berth. The wind was blowing at 27 knots and we later discovered there was a current as well. Here in St Pierre the marina is free from swell but the wind blows hard. Last night, after a lull from about 7.00pm the wind started again at 2.00am. Our washing dried quickly on the rigging, but we feared it might be torn to shreds.