The painting Dogs Playing Poker, by Cassius Coolidge, is much derided and yet much loved. The surreal nature of whamming together two of man’s favourite things is joyous idiocy, heightened by its use of one of art’s most self-serious mediums. Only if the canines’ games were portrayed in ballet or opera could it be more sacrilegious and stupid.

Upon a hotel wall in Mauritius is a pretender. Dodo water skiing is colourful, fun, and could brighten any mood. The paint has faded a little in the incessant sunlight, producing an aged look that befits a rediscovered Rembrandt, but any degradation is compensated by the bird’s excellence in its chosen sport. It uses only a single wing to hold the tow rope. It maintains a serious expression. It is a master of its art.

Dodos are, and were, the national bird of beautiful Mauritius. An immigration stamp depicting this famous creature is a highlight within a passport, and until a sovereign nation uses a T-Rex it may be unrivalled. Postage stamps too have used the funny little bird. Dodo trinkets made of glass or wood are purchasable in tourist shops, and for those with more cash, the Bank of Mauritius produced a collection of 22-carat gold dodo design 1000 rupee coins. The face value, equivalent to around £20, is slightly below the £1500 it costs to buy one.

Such celebration obviously and of course juxtaposes with the animal’s sad demise. The last reported sighting of a dodo was in 1688, in the hunting records of Dutch governor Isaac Johannes Lamotius, and it is both estimated and contested that the bird was done by 1693 (also proposed is three decades earlier: later sightings could have been an another now-extinct bird, the red hen). Should the 1690s date be correct, this would put its extinction at the time of the Salem witch trials, the Sicily earthquake that wiped out much of Catania, and the reign of the Sun King, Louis XIV. On that subject of France, it also means dodos were alive when Dutch colonialists were in Mauritius, but gone by the time the French turned up for their turn on the renamed ‘Isle de France’ in 1715.

Colonialism plays a big part in the history of Mauritius and therefore what tourists see on day trips away from the outstanding beaches. The immaculate botanical gardens at Pamplemousses, officially called the Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam Botanical Garden in honour of the country’s first post-independence prime minister, was developed by the first French governor on the island. The long sugar cane fields that fill up much of the interior were a crop utilised by Dutch settlers and expanded by both the French and then the British, who claimed the territory in the 19^th century in an early case of FOMO. The not-as-lovely-as-the-rest-of-the-island capital city, Port Louis, is dedicated to a different French Louis, Louis XV. Viewing colonial architecture and photographs there is included in the guide book.

In the south west, another of the island’s draws is named after a further Frenchman. The village of Chamarel got its name from a landowner and is home to Seven Coloured Earths, a patch of distinctly multicoloured soil. This geological curiosity is quite startling, but also very small, to the extent that visitors are present to gaze at a garden-sized fenced off patch of dirt. Like looking at the Mona Lisa, Seven Coloured Earth allows the viewer to simultaneously feel wonder and disappointment. Conveniently there are some awesome giant tortoises parked here too, and a nearby waterfall – Chamarel Falls – which is stunning.

All the colonialism and history of arrivals makes ‘Mauritian’ a complicated demonym. There were, as far as we know, no indigenous people on the island when the Arab world first came across it. From the early 16^th to mid-20^th centuries four European nations – Portugal, The Netherlands, France and England – struck their claims, creating plantations for profit in the tropics by importing slaves. When the British abolished slavery there in the first half of the 19^th century – albeit with some carrying on well past the time it became illegal – they duly replaced it with Indian, Malay, Chinese and mainland African labourers. From this soup, Indian culture in particular has come to the fore: 65% of the population claims Indian heritage, around 50% are Hindus, and India and Bangladesh remain the biggest supplier of immigrants. The consequence is that some Mauritians themselves feel the country is not overly connected to Africa, the continent to which it technically belongs.

Despite its past, Mauritius has approached becoming the melting pot that America never managed. The country’s census has not asked about ethnicity since 1972, implying that to be Mauritian is to be part of the genetic mix, and instead enquires about the cultural aspects of religion and forefathers’ spoken languages. Of course, any categorisation creates lines, and for Mauritius that means four ‘communities’ – Hindu-Mauritian, Muslim-Mauritian, Sino-Mauritain, and ‘general population’ (i.e. everybody else) – and implementing one of the most complicated election systems on the planet to ensure each gets fair representation. The ‘Best Loser System’ (BLS), so named due to additional MPs being pulled from losing candidates, works as such:

Step 1: 62 MPs are voted in by a ‘three-past-the-post’ system (three candidates from each of the 20 constituencies, plus 2 from the Rodrigues Islands)
Step 2: The ratio of MPs representing members of the four ‘communities’ is calculated
Step 3: Each of the four communities is then given another MP, thus significantly improving the ratio for the worst represented group
Step 4: The group now with the worst ratio is then given another MP
Step 5: Step 4 is repeated three more times, leaving 70 MPs in total

Of course, not everyone is happy with the BLS system, particularly in regard to the validity of these four communities, and lawyers have become involved. World peace will forever elude the species. But the net result is that Mauritius is the highest ranked African nation in the World Peace Index (number 24), putting it easily above the UK (45), South Korea (55), France (60), and the USA (128). A new Index is due on June 10^th.

Discussions about colonialism and identity are not generally priorities for honeymooners, a long time moneymaker for the island. A day aboard a catamaran, taking in Iles aux Cerfs and a barbecue on the water, contained only one person not in a couple (me), and witnessing so much new love can lead to nausea. However, the country has locations and price tags aimed at more than amore, and AirBnB is, inevitably, on the island with properties for under £40 a night. Hiring a driver for the day is affordable, and not every meal has to be candlelit – samosas can be romantic too. Whilst most people visiting Mauritius will sit upon a golden beach, there are the hiking trips and activities one would expect of a beloved tourist spot.

Parasailing is one option, which I decided to trial in a moment of adventure. Surrounded by glistening water, adjacent to beaches and greenery, it promised views to defeat any nervousness. The boat pulled away, and the jolt saw my glasses immediately fall into the sea. Worse, the harness was ill positioned, and for a quarter of an hour the torque of a speedboat pulled straps simultaneously into the flesh of my inner thigh and my crotch. The boat crew did chuckle when I landed. I could not help feel I hadn’t quite got my money’s worth, but they were good enough to dive down to retrieve the specs.

Such misfortune in the heart of beauty brings matters back to the dodo on its water skis. Calm, in control, and without a worry of being made a eunuch by water sports, that is an animal that would belong on Mauritius even today. It is curious and alluring. It very well represents a country as distinct as this. The poker-playing dogs, we may holiday here with our winnings, but the spirit of the island belongs to the bird.

(Header photo) Coast of Mauritius [Photo: Jamie Wills]