No Business, Like Slow Business

In a 'stop the world I want to get off' moment, Simon Clays attempts ambling around Mauritius in search of slow luxury and how he just might appreciate it.

- Simon Clays

I’M SITTING AT A BEACH BAR, looking out across the bay of Belle Mare Beach, watching the sun fade behind listless palms while the odd hand brushed pink cloud ambles across a postcard sky. I’m overcome with the feeling that It’s almost too perfect and a bit unfair on the rest of the planet. It’s like some grand Creator spent that little bit of extra time on the detail here and laboured over some of the fiddly bits of geography and topography. Indulged themselves in the coral and the colour palette. Mauritius is a bit of a paradisiacal who’s who.

While I’m ticking its box of tropical attributes, an ice white stallion bolts across my vista, kicking up sand in its wake. See; paradise, almost to the point of cliché. For a moment I consider ordering an oversized cocktail drenched in an ensemble of exotic fruit. I blame the white horse.

On a serious note, visiting Mauritius is my attempt to investigate ‘slow luxury’. Does it exist for me? Am I capable of entertaining and taking on the concept? After all, I live in New Delhi. A city where 30 million souls twist and writhe for a sweaty existence. And pap horns a lot. All day and every day. Also, my last decade of vacations has all been daughter-related escapades; city hopping, education-focused races to wring as much culture out of a country as possible. Additionally, my wife loathes beaches, so no beaches; I wear the shorts, she wears the trousers.