MAURITIUS
THE RELAXING ONE
Victoria Beachcomber Resort & Spa
WILL WE HAVE TO SHARE THE POOL WITH SCREAMING
KIDS? Nope! This hotel now has a new adults-only complex, offering the island’s first ‘swim-up’ rooms (fear not – you can also enter by land, too). It’s called Victoria For 2 and feels a million miles away from the hubbub of the main resort, when in reality, you’re just a few steps along the golden beach. All rooms are sea-facing and really private, so you can stand in your double shower and look through the palms to the lilac-andpink sunset. If you start to crave some action, Victoria’s only a coconut’s throw away and has nightly entertainment. Don’t cringe! There’s not a Barry Manilow tribute act in sight. Promise.
SO NO BARRY – WHAT’S THE REST OF THE CROWD LIKE? This part of the resort is so secluded, you could go an entire afternoon without seeing another soul. And those you do meet will likely be loved-up honeymooners who are so busy gazing at each other they don’t even notice you exist, or well-to-do elderly couples working on their permatans and tutting about the cavorting honeymooners’ PDAs. (Just because you can’t see us, doesn’t mean we can’t see you, guys.)
OK, BUT WHAT’S ACTUALLY INCLUDED? Life’s essentials (food, drink, shelter) and then a plethora of awesome activities: unlimited land and water sports (think snorkelling, water-skiing, pedalos, glass-bottomed boats), group tennis lessons, saunas and hammams. But the best freebie is a gourmet picnic basket you can fill up yourself for lunch on the beach. Far from the usual (a manky apple, two stale
Ginger Nuts and an aggressively put together sandwich – BREAD! HAM! BREAD!), you can load it with deli meats, freshly baked rolls, hearts of palm salad (straight from the tree), with some local lychees for dessert.
WHAT’S THE CATCH? Spa treatments, scuba dives, room service and some meals, such as lobster, come at an additional cost and, weirdly, so does the hire of tennis balls. Also, invest in good ear plugs and an eye mask for the 12-hour flight. That’s a long time to be stuck in aisle three listening to a moustachioed man in a flat cap munch through 18 bags of miniature pretzels.