Ganga Talao is a sacred crater lake in the heart of Mauritius, ringed by Hindu temples and giant deity statues, and revered as the island's most important pilgrimage site — particularly during the spectacular annual festival of Maha Shivaratri.
Mauritius: Southwest Mauritius – Cliffs Forests and the Sea
Chamarel, Le Morne and the Black River Gorges: The Wild Corner of Mauritius
We’ll admit it straight away: for years, our idea of Mauritius was a sun lounger, a cocktail with far too much fruit stuck on the side of the glass, and absolutely no intention of moving until the gin ran out. That’s the Mauritius everyone sells you — the north and east coast version, all five-star resorts, infinity pools that blur into the ocean, and staff who seem to materialise with a cold towel moments before you’ve even admitted to yourself you’re hot. Lovely, in its way. Thoroughly spoiling. Also, after a few days, just a tiny bit dull, in the way that paradise sometimes can be when you’ve nothing to do but decide between the pool and the slightly bigger pool.
So, at the grand old age of sixty, with a dodgy knee that complains more than I do (and I complain quite a lot, as my wife will confirm at length and with some enthusiasm), we hired a car and pointed it southwest. We’d heard whispers that there was a different Mauritius hiding down there, and we went to find it.
We were not disappointed. The southwest turned out to be a completely different animal from the postcard version — volcanic cliffs, black-sand beaches, ancient forest, rivers that seemed to be going somewhere in a hurry rather than just lying about looking decorative. We drove for the best part of a day and barely saw a cocktail umbrella.
🏛️ A Potted History, Because We Can Never Resist One
Before we get to the waterfalls and the coloured earth and the rest of it, a word on how Mauritius came to be the slightly chaotic, multicultural, fascinating place it is today — because frankly none of it makes much sense without a bit of background, and we do love a bit of background.
The island was, as far as anyone can tell, uninhabited by humans until the Dutch turned up. In September 1598, Admiral Wybrand van Warwijck arrived with five ships and promptly named the place after Prince Maurits of Orange, which seems a fairly cheeky thing to do to an island that had been getting along perfectly well without a name for several million years. The Dutch didn’t stay terribly long in the grand scheme of things, but they did enough damage while they were there. Within about a century, the dodo — a bird that had evolved for thousands of years with absolutely no fear of anything, because nothing on Mauritius had ever eaten one — was extinct. Sailors ate them, pigs and rats that arrived with the ships ate their eggs, and that, really, was that. It remains one of history’s more depressing cautionary tales about what happens when an animal has never needed to be afraid of anything and suddenly everything turns up at once.
The native giant tortoises went the same way not long after, hunted for food by anyone passing through, which is why the tortoises you see wandering about Mauritius today — and you do see rather a lot of them, more on that shortly — aren’t actually Mauritian tortoises at all. They’re Aldabra giant tortoises, brought in from the Seychelles to fill the ecological gap the originals left behind. It’s a bit like replacing the original cast of a long-running play with understudies who never even saw the script, but who are, by all accounts, getting on with the job rather well.
The French arrived next, because in the eighteenth century there was apparently no island anywhere in the world that France and Britain weren’t prepared to squabble over. Guillaume Dufresne d’Arsel claimed it for France in September 1715 and renamed it Isle de France — rather more romantic-sounding, we thought, than plain old Mauritius, though nobody asked us. It was under a later governor, Mahé de La Bourdonnais, from 1735 onwards, that the island actually started to resemble something organised: roads were built, a hospital went up, and Port Louis was established as the capital, a position it still holds today.
Then, naturally, along came us. The British and French had one of their periodic disagreements over the island, and in a rare moment of nautical embarrassment for Britain, the French actually won a naval battle at Grand Port in August 1810 — their only naval victory over us in the whole Napoleonic business, which I imagine they’ve never quite stopped mentioning at dinner parties. It didn’t last. We came back in force in December 1810, and the French surrendered on the third of that month. The Treaty of Paris in 1814 made the British claim official, and that was Mauritius ours for the best part of the next century and a half.
Independence finally came on 12 March 1968, with Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam — a name I have now typed four times and still haven’t managed without checking — as the island’s first prime minister. But the single most significant date in the island’s history, to our minds, is the first of February 1835: the abolition of slavery, which freed more than 66,000 people on Mauritius alone. The plantation owners, with a cheek that still rather takes the breath away, were compensated to the tune of over two million pounds for the loss of what the law had, until that point, considered their property. The people who had actually been enslaved received nothing whatsoever. In the decades that followed, from 1835 right through to 1924, indentured labourers were brought over from India to replace the labour force, and their descendants now make up the majority of the island’s population — which is why Mauritius today is such a genuinely remarkable mix of African, Indian, Chinese and European culture, religion and cuisine, all somehow rubbing along together on one fairly small volcanic island in the middle of the Indian Ocean.
💧 Chamarel Waterfall, or: Managing Expectations
Right, history lesson over. Onto the actual sightseeing, starting with Chamarel Waterfall, which drops a single, uninterrupted one hundred metres, fed by three separate streams that converge just before the edge. It is, and I choose my words carefully here, perfectly lovely. It is not, however, going to trouble my personal top ten of waterfalls I have stood in front of feeling vaguely moved. We did the full tourist routine: walked to the viewing platform, took the photograph everyone else was also taking from precisely the same spot, admired it for about four minutes, and then wandered off again. I don’t say this to be unkind about it — it’s a genuinely handsome waterfall — but we’d built it up rather in our heads, and it turns out a waterfall, however tall, is still just water falling off a cliff. We’ve seen a few by now and they all start to blur a bit, which is probably more a comment on us than on Chamarel.
🎨 The Seven Coloured Earths
Rather more interesting, and just along the road, is the famous Seven Coloured Earths — a stretch of undulating sand dunes that have naturally separated into seven distinct bands of colour: red, brown, violet, green, blue, purple and yellow, lying there in soft rippling stripes as if someone had taken a paintbrush to the landscape and then had an argument about which colour to use and simply given up and used all of them. There are boardwalks built around and above the dunes so you can get the view from several angles, and on the afternoon we visited, the sun came out properly and lit the whole thing up gloriously. It’s one of those genuinely odd geological quirks — nothing to do with dye or paint, purely down to the way different minerals cooled at different rates from the volcanic rock — and well worth the stop, even if, like us, you’ve reached an age where you’ve started finding geology more interesting than you ever expected to.
🐢 The Tortoises (The Understudies, Remember)
Next door to the coloured earths is a small tortoise park, home to a fair colony of those Aldabra giant tortoises we mentioned earlier. They can grow to a full metre in length and typically live well beyond 150 years — the park’s oldest resident reportedly made it to the frankly absurd age of 250 before finally calling it a day, which puts my complaints about a dodgy knee rather into perspective. Aldabras are the second-largest tortoise species in the world, and watching them plod about with the sort of unhurried confidence that only comes from having outlived several generations of the people who built your enclosure was, oddly, one of the highlights of the whole day. The native Mauritian tortoises, both the domed and the saddle-backed varieties, had already gone extinct by the early eighteenth century — another casualty of those early centuries of settlement — so these imported old-timers really are standing in for a cast that’s long since left the stage.
⛰️ Le Morne Brabant
At the very tip of the southwestern peninsula sits Le Morne Brabant, a dramatic basaltic monolith rising to 556 metres, or 1,824 feet in old money, and recognised by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site in 2008 for its tragic history as a refuge for escaped slaves, who are said to have thrown themselves from the summit rather than be recaptured when they mistakenly believed troops arriving below were there to return them to captivity, rather than to tell them slavery had just been abolished. It’s a solemn bit of history for such a beautiful-looking mountain. The hike to the top takes between two and a half and three hours, by all accounts steep, difficult, and involving a fair amount of scrambling over rock near the summit. We did not attempt it. The knee, as previously mentioned, had already cast its vote, and we were quite content admiring Le Morne from a respectful distance with a cold drink in hand, which felt like the appropriately British way to approach a mountain.
🌲 Black River Gorges National Park
We did make time for a quick stop at Black River Gorges National Park, which protects the last substantial stretch of native Mauritian forest left on the island and offers some genuinely spectacular valley viewpoints. There are over 50 kilometres of hiking trails threading through it, ranging from gentle strolls to proper challenging routes, and it’s home to rare native birds you won’t see anywhere else on earth. We arrived later in the day than we’d planned — a recurring theme of our travelling life — and between the hawkers selling souvenirs and the monkeys eyeing up anything that looked remotely edible, we only really had time for the viewpoint rather than a proper walk. Next time, we’ve promised ourselves, we’ll get there earlier. We always say that.
The best time to visit Mauritius
Mauritius sits in the southern Indian Ocean and follows a broadly tropical rhythm, with two main seasons shaped by trade winds, rainfall, and the Indian Ocean’s warmth. The island’s geography adds complexity: the central plateau and windward east coast receive considerably more rainfall than the sheltered west and north. Altitude also plays a role — the interior highlands can be cloudy and cool when the coast is drenched in sunshine.
☀️ November to April — Summer and the Wet Season
Summer in Mauritius runs from roughly November through April. Temperatures on the coast climb into the low-to-mid thirties Celsius, and humidity is at its most pronounced. Rain arrives in heavy, dramatic bursts rather than steady drizzle, and the afternoons frequently clear to brilliant sunshine. The sea reaches its warmest, typically between 26°C and 29°C, making snorkelling and diving particularly rewarding.
December, January, and February form the heart of this period and carry the greatest risk of tropical cyclones. Mauritius sits within the South-West Indian Ocean cyclone belt, and while direct hits are relatively rare, the island can experience heavy rains, strong winds, and rough seas during this window. Cyclone alerts can disrupt flights and close beaches at short notice.
Despite these caveats, this period draws many visitors, particularly Europeans escaping winter. Hotels on the west and north coasts — which sit in the rain shadow of the central mountains — remain relatively sunny even when the east is wet. The lush vegetation at its greenest, waterfalls running full, and warm evening temperatures make for a vivid atmosphere.
December and early January are peak festive season, with prices at their highest and availability tightest. If you are travelling over Christmas or New Year, booking well in advance is essential.
What to pack: Lightweight, moisture-wicking clothing in breathable fabrics; a quality compact umbrella or a packable waterproof jacket; sandals as well as closed shoes for evenings out; high-factor suncream (SPF 50+); insect repellent; a lightweight scarf for air-conditioned restaurants and shopping centres.
🍂 May to October — Winter and the Dry Season
The austral winter, from May to October, is widely regarded as the best time to visit Mauritius in terms of comfort. Trade winds from the south-east keep humidity low and temperatures pleasant — typically between 17°C and 25°C on the coast, with cooler nights in the highlands. The skies are frequently clear and blue, rainfall is minimal, and the sea, though slightly cooler than in summer at around 22°C to 24°C, remains inviting for swimming.
July and August are the coolest months and can feel surprisingly fresh in the evenings, particularly at altitude or on exposed headlands. A light layer is genuinely useful after sunset. The reduced humidity and cooler air make hiking, cycling, and exploring the interior far more comfortable than during summer.
The south and east coasts receive the strongest trade winds during this period, which can create choppy conditions for swimming and water sports in those areas. The west and north coasts remain calmer and more sheltered. Surfers, however, seek out the east and south coasts during winter for consistent swells.
Visibility underwater is excellent between May and September, and whale watching is possible from around June onwards when humpback whales pass through Mauritian waters.
June to August is the busiest period for European and South African visitors — the island’s two largest visitor markets outside the festive season — so prices are elevated compared to shoulder months, but generally lower than December and January.
What to pack: Lightweight daywear; a mid-layer fleece or smart casual knit for evenings and cooler highland days; comfortable walking shoes or trainers; a long-sleeved shirt for sun protection on the water; suncream; a compact day bag for hikes or market visits.
🌸 May and October–November — Shoulder Months
May and the October–November transition represent perhaps the shrewdest time to visit for those who want good conditions without peak-season pricing. May bridges the wet and dry seasons elegantly: most of the summer humidity has dissipated but the landscape retains its lushness, and sea temperatures are still warm. October and November mark the return of warmth after winter, before the cyclone risk and full summer humidity arrive.
Crowds are thinner, rates are more negotiable, and the island’s hospitality industry tends to be at its most attentive without the pressures of full occupancy. The risk in November is that the season can edge earlier in some years, bringing heavier rain and the odd cyclone depression from mid-November onwards.
What to pack: A versatile wardrobe that layers easily — lightweight trousers or a dress plus a light jacket covers most eventualities; sandals and comfortable closed shoes; suncream; swimming gear.
🌊 Diving and Snorkelling
Water visibility and marine life vary through the year. The period October to December offers the warmest sea temperatures and calmer waters on both coasts before the cyclone season intensifies. April and May, as the wet season eases, also offer very good conditions. The south-east trade winds from June to August can stir up sediment on the east coast but leave the west coast clear.
Whale sharks are occasionally spotted off the west coast between October and March. Humpback whales pass through from around June to September. Sea turtles nest on some beaches between October and February.
🏄 Kite Surfing and Water Sports
Le Morne on the south-west peninsula and Anse la Raie in the north are the main kite surfing spots. The strongest, most consistent trade winds for kite surfing run from May to October. Surfing the reef breaks on the east and south coasts is best from around May to September, when the swell arrives with the trade winds. Flat-water watersports — paddleboarding, kayaking, glass-bottom boats — are most enjoyable from May to September on the sheltered west and north coasts
🌡️ Overall Best Time to Visit
For most visitors, May to October offers the most reliably comfortable conditions in Mauritius: low humidity, sunshine, clear skies, and warm enough seas for swimming and snorkelling. Within that window, June and July strike the ideal balance of dry weather, excellent visibility for diving, whale watching opportunities, and manageable prices — without the summer cyclone risk or the humidity that can make outdoor activity tiring. Families with school-age children often find the Easter and October half-term shoulders equally rewarding: warm, less crowded, and frequently kinder on the budget than the peak winter and festive seasons. If a warm sea and a vivid, lush island are the priority and cyclone risk is accepted, December and January remain genuinely beautiful — simply book early, watch the weather alerts, and choose the west or north coast.
Where to stay
Mon Choisy Beach Resort
We stopped in the Mon Choisy which is on the northeast coast of Mauritius. This is a lovely area of the island with great beaches and supposedly the best weather.
The resort was outside the main areas of the town and right on the edge of the large public beach at Mon Choisy. The resort was right on the water, with a rocky beach. It was a perfect place for watching the sun go down and catch the sunset.
We wanted to self-cater, or at least have the option to, so this resort was perfect as the rooms had a small kitchenette which was reasonably well equipped. The rooms were very comfortable, but most of them do not have much of a view.
The pool area was perfect for sunbathing and cooling off, as well as being a perfect spot for seeing sunsets.
Hôtel 20 Degrés Sud
This 5-star hotel is also located on the northeast coast of the island near Grand Baie.
The first boutique hotel in Mauritius, the 20 Degrés Sud offers you the luxury and excellence of a 5-star hotel in an establishment with the dimensions of a charming hotel.
No ostentatious luxury but much more: elegance and refinement. The delicacy in taste, spirit and feelings that will truly give you the feeling of being in a world apart.
Nestled in a pretty coconut grove at the water’s edge, the 20 Degrés Sud enjoys a privileged location, far from all the hustle and bustle, but only a few minutes from the entertainment of Grand Bay. Its location in the heart of a very quiet residential area served by a charming coastal road gives it a peaceful and relaxing side.
Le Peninsula Bay Beach Resort & Spa
This 3-star hotel is located on the southwest side of Mauritius, closer to the International Airport.
Located in Blue Bay, a 2-minute walk from Blue Bay Beach, Le Peninsula Bay Beach Resort & Spa has accommodations with an outdoor swimming pool, free private parking, a fitness center and a garden. Among the facilities of this property are a restaurant, a shared lounge and a 24-hour front desk, along with free WiFi throughout the property. The property provides karaoke and a tour desk.
The hotel will provide guests with air-conditioned rooms offering a desk, an electric tea pot, a fridge, a safety deposit box, a flat-screen TV and a private bathroom with a shower. At Le Peninsula Bay Beach Resort & Spa all rooms include bed linen and towels.
More to Explore
