Isn’t it remarkable when you go into something expecting nothing out of the ordinary but come out in raptures, ecstatic? And it gets you to beam months later with much the same emotion as the boy who gets spared a caning thanks to the dismissal bell. Mauritius for my husband and I turned just that – a startling gem. To give you the background, vacation for us means a historic European city. Imposing spires, Romanesque architecture, cobbled pathways and historic references at every road bend. Too much of a Europe buff to get remotely excited about any island destination. Golden sunsets over platinum sands, beach shacks frying Marlin and blaring Marley do get me smiling but never my pulse racing. To that leaning is the fact that I’ve indulged in the magnificence of the Cote de Azur, enchantment of the Greek islands and the effervescence of the Caribbean….

Can’t say that I was holding my breath to go to Mauritius, and so when mooted a destination it was with a shrug that I went along. Spirits that weren’t overly elated were completely doused by Air Mauritius that offered a sham in the name of Business Class. Dismal service and none of the deluxe extras one has come to expect as routine when flying business: Audio visual on demand, office software, chefs on board, in-flight bars and well-stocked galleys to peck at will. Here when I picked up a lowly chocolate I was berated by a steward in a tone last encountered in fourth grade. And so it was with a puckered brow that my husband and I set foot in Mauritius. But the not-goods ended right here.

Visa on arrival was a breeze, welcome relief from the hours one factors in to Thailand holidays. And walking out to sunshine we encountered the first taste of luxury in the island known to court and indulge the most discerning. Making the 90 minute drive all the way to Flic et Flac on Mauritius’ south-west coast comfortable was a waiting BMW. Tropical landscape whizzed alongside but ever so often the majestic beamer turned into the bustle of a town’s main street with run down corner shops, the odd cinema promising the newest Bollywood release and that stereotypical disarray typical to any Indian town. Honking, chaffing and then emerging from the chaos of a narrow one-lane road to the delusional legroom of vast sugarcane fields on both sides. Finally Flic et Flac. A quiet beach of yellow and red white-washed waterfront shops and bars fringed all along the water-hugging coast by tall trees, in the shade of which were now pitched tents. Smoke billowed from open fires and holidayers ran riot. “It’s a typical Mauritian vacation,” explained the chauffeur, “to camp on beaches and enjoy the outdoors.”

Three hotels neck to neck and finally we arrived at our home for the next four nights, Taj Exotica Resort and Spa. This enthralling private retreat is plonked right on the fringe of a coral reef where you walk barefoot on a blanket of powdered sand amidst tropical bush and easily forget that there is anyone but you aboard. Robinson Crusoe style privacy minus the frugality. Here extravagance rules and entry level luxury is a villa with a private plunge pool, outdoor shower and courtyard complete with loungers in cane and board games. Every little detail that I’d have factored in to my personal private escape was here… In the snug comfort of home we crashed to wake up hours later to growling tummies, and made our way to the all-day diner, Coast to Coast. The resort is a township of villas, tennis courts, kid’s club, fitness centre, grand spa and restaurants, and walking across we took in the details.

Sitting down as we hungrily dug into the bread basket came along the Chef’s Special – a medley of chilled gazpachos. Always one to go local I’d opted for a Creole offering as aperitif and Mauritian as main course. Creole which in its simplest form is a blend of African produce and European style cooking emerged in Mauritius due to its long French occupation and proximity to Africa. Mauritian is a smorgasbord of cuisines: French, Indian, Chinese and African emerging from the ethnic diversity of its people, though with 70 per cent populace of Indian origin the Indian flavour clearly overrides. Nevertheless the Mauritian Home Style Chicken Curry was delightful. So was the Catch of the Day that my husband opted for – superior dining matched stride with service. Little wonder then that the hotel draws the most discerning global traveller, from Gordon Brown, Laxmi Mittal to Amitabh Bachchan.

Satiated and enthused we walked up to the boat house to be greeted by the vivacious manager who talked us into a host of activities for the days ahead and for now put us in a paddle boat. The water was glorious, the sky scrubbed to the perfect blue and paddling around we got our bearings. Across lay a gently rising mountain with charming cottages dotting the shore and some ascending up at varying heights into the thicket. Black River Village is the residence of the island’s rich and famous. “Largely plantation owners,” said the young daredevil, zipping around us on a speed boat. “Now that our sugar is not making the cut they are razing sugarcane fields to build top dollar villas.” Though not happy about the depleting green zones he added with more than a hint of pride that French megawatt footballer Zinadine Zidane owns one of the deluxe vacation homes. I wasn’t impressed – in the court of celebrity a second home in a tax holiday island is a standard signifier of reaching the upper echelons, and Zidane is the pinnacle of celebrityhood.

Back on the beach it was a toss up between lazing on the ink-blue comforters laden on deck chairs and returning to our villa. We washed off the spray and the sun at an alfresco shower-stand and lay around for a bit. Taking in the hard-at-work canvas of dark clouds floating in to reduce the spectacle of the setting sun into mere brush strokes reflected in a now there, now not shimmer across the expanse of water. Finally when we pulled away it took effort. But we were zipping off to Port Louis, the capital. With its early buildings, the impressive Le Caudan waterfront boasting the vibrant Caudan complex and the 1844 est. Port Louis Central Market that remains a must-do for foodies with its promise of herbal tea, fresh vegetables, local crafts and even the famous island delicacy, dholl purris. Emerging after hours at the Crafts Market we found ourselves right in the middle of a Mauritian weekend special. The Caudan piazza had a local reggae band performing live in the background, at the central landing of the mall a fashion show was in progress and at the Casino – the hub – little kids stood huddled and giggling… eagerly waiting for mum to come out with the booty that they’d lavish on themselves! “Gambling is in our genes,” laughingly informed the waitress as we sat down to tea at La Terrasse, the famed waterfront restaurant overlooking the Caudan piazza. Part of the historic Labourdonnais Waterfront hotel, bang on the Caudan peninsula this is the ‘it’ spot to rest sore feet and get a ringside view of Mauritian gaiety.

We chose to wake early to participate in the newest activity introduced by Mauritius Tourism, a walk with the lions. It sounded so thrilling, the minute the concierge suggested it we decided to go along. Casela Bird Park is a ten minute drive from the Taj and when we landed at 8.30am it was already packed to the gills. Not surprising as the bird park is a haven of rare birds: 140 species from all five continents and also offers thrilling adventure activities like Quad biking and Nordic walks. Sitting in the olive green bone-rattler we were driven across to the wild animals’ enclosure where Graeme Bristow, the man in charge greeted us. The Walk is Graeme’s brainchild; he a third generation conservationist and lion handler has brought in lion and cheetah cubs from Africa to rear them here such that tourists have the unique opportunity of a wild encounter in Mauritius.

Marvelous said the motley group: us, an Australian family and a group of suited Korean honchos. Walk with the Pride, the concept is so exceptional that you have to but forgive the unprepared-ness of the Koreans. In Mauritius the wildest encounter could perhaps be a friendly dolphin escorting your boat, not lions jogging up to accompany you through thick forest and then keeping you enthralled by running amok, chasing each other, climbing trees and occasionally, even hunting. “People want to go to Africa but are concerned about their safety,” explained Graeme as I tried to keep my breathing pattern unaltered despite the two huge lions walking alongside. “Crime and political uneasiness makes tourists wary. So when my wife Julie suggested I bring the wild out of Africa by way of a Lion Walk that exposes my ease in lion handling, conserves and also brings the wild to ordinary people, I went along without worrying about the toil it would take.” And the effort paid off as Walk with the Pride is fast turning premium tourist attraction. It was high noon when we returned ravenous to a delightful meal at Casela’s café once again looking to sample regional cuisine. This time Palm heart Salad, Mauritian Sea Food Mix and Fish in Creole Sauce. Tres bien!

Back at the hotel we worked out lunch by a round of beach ball in the infinity-edged pool and later dozed off under the shade of swaying palm fronds. If there’s one thing I’ll vehemently recommend you do in Mauritius, it is to do nothing. Unwind, rejuvenate, spend quality time renewing bonds and indulge in an uncluttered vacation. The best recipe for a flavourful Mauritius is to check in to a super retreat and stay put. That’s what we did, and came to love it. The pride that welled up when everything the hotel did was more than perfect cannot be put in words. Here we were, in one of the most celebrated destinations living in an Indian hotel chain that was repeatedly wowing not only us but each of the distinguished guests. A mix of upper crust British, German and French nationals who at $2500 a room night demanded and settled for nothing but exceptionality in every minute detail – and were served it with the warmth and demureness true of Indian hospitality. Nay, French arrogance and Brit detachment.

Day three was earmarked indulgence. After a fantastic breakfast we headed straight to the spa. In keeping with the amorous mood we’d opted for a couples’ treatment that starts with an indulgent bath where you are left alone to soak and sip chilled champagne and once through choose between a range of massages and facials. The natural facial that I opted for was visibly good, I glowed. And after the pehalwan maalish Jai said he was born again. The therapists are well-trained and have that genuine desire to heal which makes their touch curative. Service carried well past the treatment as we sipped ginger tea in the Jacuzzi and opted for eats from the special spa dining menu. Nothing here is in half measure, no wonder the spa has already made it to the Leading Spas of the World. Post our light meal and invigorated bodies we went in for an aqua gym session, and it had us even more charged.

The vigour refused to ebb and so we hopped in to the beamer and made our way to the island’s north. “It’s the lively, action spot of Mauritius,” informed Ali, the chauffeur as he prepared us for the 90min drive ahead. Grand Bay where we were heading is the very first area that experienced the tourist boom and to that end is yet the action Mecca. All along the waterfront are restaurants, art galleries, pubs that blare music through the day and shops that scream discounts. The harbour itself with boats and yachts is spectacular but what caught my husband’s attention as he went click, click, click… were baby sharks on a stall. While the fisherman cleaned the mama shark, a massive half-sold chunk and put out his red snappers in a neat row, busy housewives with shark soup on dinner menu fussed over the wares with the flourish of connoisseurs. We chose to indulge in retail therapy of a different kind and made our way to the super market, which is your best bet for souvenirs.

Way back was not all driving as we made way to Pamplemouses botanical gardens, known to naturalists throughout the world for its large collection of indigenous and exotic plants. The 60-acre garden boasts 500 different species of plants, of which 80 are palms. Of particular interest are the giant water lilies, Victoria Amazonica that go up to a metre in diametre. There’s also a spice garden and the Talipot Palms, said to flower every 60 years after which they die. Walking through the tall palms and the silent greens we came across an old French mansion, Château Mon Plaisir, and an old sugar mill that brought to life Mauritius’ rich historical past.

Come nightfall and back in our villa we were raring for yet another special – the weekly beachside BBQ to the tune of Sega dancers. Sand in our toes, the whiff of fresh catch: lobster, crab, calamari, prawns grilled on a live fire and amidst us the lithest dancers. Swaying to the beat and song of their troupe, an exuberant singer tapping a tambourine backed by an enthusiastic chorus. A little piece of paradise: us, the dancers, the troupe together under a perfectly starlit sky festooned by swaying lanterns and the distant sound of the waves. Considering there wasn’t an empty table it wasn’t isolated thinking. That beat and that energy yet resonate in my mind… “They really have mastered a 1000 ways of doing nothing,” said my husband. “1000 delightful ways,” I added.

Last day and the indulgence started with breakfast. The hotel’s piece de resistance is tent dining on the beach, reserved only for dinner but being sold out they graciously accommodated us for breakfast. The maroon tents had caught my fancy on day one: temple-tops with white chiffon curtains falling in a perfect circle below. In keeping with the luxe lexicon we had a butler on call right outside the tent. In easy calling distance and yet far away for any intimacy. Mauritius being honeymooner’s paradise intimacy is the cornerstone and The Exotica serves it on demand. Creating the most unpretentious yet snug experiences to be cherished and relived a lifetime.

It was a day reserved for specials and post breakfast we were going swimming with dolphins. This water sprouting mammal is found on the west coast of Mauritius, right beyond our reef and all we had to do was load flippers, lather on sun block and hold tight as the speed boat crossed over the reef into the deep waters. Snap happy we started but having spent a dismal hour tracking them were about to turn back when the walkie-talkie crackled. Someone out at sea had spotted the dolphins…. There they are, I shrieked. A family of four making way to Tamarind and coming up ever so often to gulp air. And though I did jump in I can’t say I swam with them as they were in the middle of daily chores and not in a mood to splash around. Tanned beyond recognition but satiated beyond desire we drove off to the airport a couple of hours later….

Really to be pleasantly surprised is a wonderful feeling. When you go expecting nothing and return with the bar raised many notches. Yes, The Exotica standard is a new benchmark for us. Ditto Mauritius, which I discovered is more than beaches, beach bodies and awkward honeymooners. The idyllic retreat to fall in love all over again and renew bonds mingle with family or even friends, slow down rejuvenate and rediscover yourself.