Île aux Cerfs
"The lagoon is the colour they use in adverts and then apologise for exaggerating. Here, they undersold it."
Île aux Cerfs is a small island just off the east coast of Mauritius, reached by speedboat from the village of Trou d’Eau Douce, and it has a reputation that nearly kept us away. The brochures push it hard: parasailing, banana boats, a championship golf course, the full machinery of tropical leisure. Lia, who has a finely tuned allergy to organised fun, took some persuading. I am glad she let me win, because the island turns out to be much better than the people selling it understand.
The Lagoon That Embarrasses Photographs
The thing nobody can oversell is the water. The lagoon around Île aux Cerfs is shielded by a reef that holds the open ocean at bay, and the result is a sheet of shallow water in graded blues — pale jade near the sand, deepening to a turquoise that looks artificially enhanced and is not. We walked out from the main beach until the water reached our waists a hundred metres from shore, the sand firm underfoot, small fish ignoring us with great dignity.
I have seen a lot of celebrated beaches by now. Most are good. A few make you stop talking. This was the second kind. We stood in the warm shallows and said nothing for a while, which from two people who narrate everything is the highest praise available.
How to Skip the Circus
The trick is geography. The boats deposit everyone at the same northern beach, where the loungers, the bars, and the jet-ski touts cluster thickly. Walk fifteen minutes along the shore in either direction and the crowd thins to almost nothing. The island is bigger and emptier than the day-trippers realise, with quiet coves backed by casuarina trees whose needles carpet the sand and whose shade is the best free amenity on the island.
We found a stretch on the southern side with no one on it, ate the sandwiches we had smuggled past the overpriced grills, and swam off a deserted spit until our fingers wrinkled. The much-photographed waterfall nearby — Grande Rivière Sud-Est, technically on the main island — is a worthwhile boat detour, though it is more a series of cascades than a single dramatic drop, and I suspect every visitor leaves slightly underwhelmed and entirely unwilling to admit it.
A Verdict, Reluctantly Positive
I went prepared to be cynical and came back converted, with the specific caveat that Île aux Cerfs rewards the visitor who refuses its default version. Take the early boat, walk away from the noise, bring your own lunch, and stay until the afternoon crowds drain back to the mainland. The last hour, with the island half-empty and the light going gold over that ridiculous lagoon, is the one you will actually remember.
When to go: May to December offers the calmest, clearest lagoon water and the most reliable sun on the east coast. Catch the first boats around nine to claim a quiet patch before the day-trip flotilla arrives mid-morning.