Barry and I tried to stay active while we were in Mauritius. It was hard pulling ourselves away from the relax mode we very quickly slipped into but needs must. I was hitting the end of the Marcothon (daily 5km/25 minute running challenge for December) and needed to keep on running, for a few more days at least.
It was a bizarre experience running while it was actually snowing (and pitch black) in Northern Ireland one morning, to slugging through the sand as the tropical sun set into the ocean, 24 hours later.
The sand was pretty hard work for running (even if you can jump in for a swim immediately after) so I was pretty keen to head to the Black River Gorge National Park to try out some of their trails.
The first day we tried to go it rained all morning. It was almost lunchtime before we took the car into the hills. We kept on driving up into the clouds. And up. And up. And up. When we reached the top, we got ready to run. Then it started raining again. We took refuge in the small visitor centre. We read about some plants and animals and studied the map of trails, deciding which ones would be manageable.
Eventually, we headed off for a slow jog in the mud in what we thought was a break in the weather. Getting completely soaked and slugging through wet red clay that wanted to suck me down told me that I know nothing about the kind of weather tropical storm Ava could bring.
We got back to the car soaked to the skin and covered to the knees in red mud.
It was pretty fun.
We headed back to the National Park a few times during our stay. I didn’t run up the steep hills though, the humidity really slowed us down. We looked at lots of plants instead. And some wild piglets.
We didn’t hunt them.