Seychelles island 2: No compromise on La Digue

So where would you go for your holiday of a lifetime?

For me, I want cultural heritage, fresh and tasty food, an interesting language – the stimulations of a new civilisation.  But I’m also looking to walk and ride through beautiful, unspoiled landscapes, away from the stresses of work, the noise and pollution of cars, the persistent drizzle of our north European  island.

For her, it’s rather more simple: hot sun, clear sea, golden sand. 

Who said it’s women who are complicated?

As we were going to north-east Germany to be married, I hatched a cunning plan:  no need for the expense, stress and pollution of a flight; from here we could explore the castles and Hanseatic towns of the north, indulge in as much Kaffe und Kuchen as we could stomach, and gently brush up my language skills. 

And how about his for genius:  Katti’s hometown is on the main Berlin to Copenhagen cycle route, so our holiday of a lifetime would be a gentle tandem ride, far from work, cars and the vexations of daily life.

All this, and no compromise for her:  our ride in the August sunshine would take us to the wonderful, underrated coastline of northern Germany and Denmark.  Sun, sea and sand - perfekt!

However marriage, I am learning – as with any relationship - needs negotiation, cooperation, even concessions – without compromise. 

So we went to the Seychelles.

Not that I begrudged two weeks in the paradise islands of the Indian Ocean.  It was just that, after a week of relaxation on stunning, deserted beaches, I was ready for a change of scenery.  And very specifically, I had developed an idée fixe that, just as I would cycle on my wedding day, so I would have a bike ride on my honeymoon.  I can be a bit obsessive-compulsive, but it’s all about give and take, right?

La Digue was the middle ground we needed:  just off Praslin, the second-largest of the Seychelles, it's tiny gem of an island. 

For her, the beaches were indeed stunning – apparently Anse Source D'Argent is the most photographed in the world.  The sun shone, and waves crashed impressively, if a little too much to get to see much marine life through a snorkelling mask.

For him, a bike ride!  Wonderfully, La Digue has resisted the creeping motorisation of the main islands, and is a haven of cycling, along with walking and the odd oxcart. 

First we headed north, stopping for breadfruit chips and a chat in French to a wizened Creole guy, who advised us against my planned cross-country route.

Locals know best, so we changed course, and struck out on the gently rising path across the middle of the island.  It was bliss – just a gently winding path through palm, almond and takamaka trees, sun on our faces, the tinkle of a bike bell, and some rather large spider webs.

Reaching the far side of the island, we struck out on foot through the hot sand to find Petite Anse.  We had to climb a rocky outcrop to get there, but it was so worth it:  probably the most perfect beach we’d seen, completely to ourselves and stretching way into the distance.  The waves and sun were strong, but this really was a special place.

As we free-wheeled back down towards the picturesque harbour to find our boat in the turquoise water, I had to admit that I was quietly happy to have been persuaded to choose the Indian Ocean and leave the Baltic for another day.

Perhaps I should compromise more often?