Delicious Mauritius: The joys of this paradise in the Indian Ocean (2023)

The elderly couple in front of us is in the throes of passion. I say 'passion', but to be precise the old nerd tries to climb on top of his girlfriend, who stages a slow and ineffective escape.

Well, it's not easy to get healthy when you're approaching 150 and encumbered with bodies roughly the size of a family hatchback.

It is a problem that Tizean and Rosette (or could it be Toto and Tifam?) must somehow have solved, with the wisdom gained from being among the oldest inhabitants of Mauritius, for they have apparently produced several dozen offspring over the decades.

We are in the Chamarel Seven Colored Earth geopark, in the southern hills of Mauritius, where my wife and I should be enraptured by the seven shades of spectacular volcanic sand that rises and falls in dunes of mesmerizing iris.

Instead, we watch a couple of the park's resident Aldabra giant tortoises - the second largest tortoise species on the planet - get jiggy. Clack, clack, clack.

It's the first outing of a ten-day trip that will take my own beloved and I from the glorious, surf-kissed beaches of the unspoiled southern tip to the new jewel in the crown of Mauritius' high-end hotel scene in the north. It's an all-you-can-eat tour that samples everything this diverse country has to offer in its compact but surprisingly varied 790 square kilometers.

Our driver, ferrying us along the trail, is Yves, whose encyclopedic knowledge of Mauritian history is surpassed only by his penchant for macabre tales behind each black island. ('Here is where the river overflowed and a priest passing by was washed clean away'; 'Here is where a high tide rose into the churchyard one day and the streets were filled with floating coffins').

We begin at Lakaz Chamarel, an independent eco-hotel owned by the former manager of a five-star beach resort. The result is a wonderfully casual but stylish retreat, with lots of little luxuries alongside one's halo of green virtues, not least the fantastic food.

A true melting pot of cultures, with no indigenous peoples, Mauritian culture and cuisine brings together the best of the African, Indian, Chinese and European influences that have shaped its past and its palate.

We eat while watching flying foxes fly through the twilight sky (actually they are the fruit bats that Mauritius is blessed or cursed with, depending on whether you are a naturalist or a farmer).

The next day we opt for a guided forest walk in the Black River Gorge with dreadlocked part-time musician Steeve Larridain, who explains how each tree has its own purpose: the wild apple for medicinal magic; the pink pepper tree for its tongue-tingling spice and the 'traveller's tree' whose large palm leaves store water at the bottom for parched hikers.

We sweat our way through the morning's subtropical chill to a vantage point from which the island stretches out to the distant sea in valleys and peaks of emerald so dazzling it almost hurts the retinas.

We had hoped to see a crane, but they are mostly found in Casela nature parks. Time for a quick river jump to cool off before heading back to civilization.

And what civilization awaits when we move to the seaside resort of Shanti Maurice - spacious, authentic and full of character.

Being cheapskates who prefer to travel with our own G&T ingredients rather than lose weight to minibar prices, we arrive with supermarket bags of tonic that promptly open at the feet of the manager's welcome line-up.

The embarrassment is compounded when we are taken to our upgraded room - a spectacular villa that has its own private sea-facing pool, with a tray floating in it with a bottle of chilled Bollinger. It's like the set of a lottery winner's TV commercial.

'I bet we're the only people who've stayed here who've brought their own lemons,' my wife cringes as we're shown around our accommodation by the designated butler.

However, Bolly is not the star of the Shanti drinks menu. For that, head to its Rum Shed, which boasts more than 250 varieties of spirits for which the island is justly famous - the perfect complement to a plate of grilled king prawns or the biggest and most exquisite burger I've ever eaten .

Over a final post-prandial tot, we chat to the Shed's resident chanteuse, Corina Matuka, who has just returned from visiting her brother in Haywards Heath, West Sussex.

I ask her what she missed most while she was away. 'The sea', she replies. "I missed it so much that one day I took the train to Brighton, but it was so cold. How can you swim in it? Now I give thanks every day that I can swim here again.'

We also give thanks for each daily dip in the warm Mauritian sea and the abundant beauty that exists beneath the surface for snorkelers. The more sheltered beaches and reefs of the north were the big draw for our final destination, the newest and fanciest of the Lux group's many Mauritian resorts, Lux Grand Baie.

This architecturally stunning new construction, with its sections of traditional thatched roofs contrasted with the ultra-modern interior by British design queen Kelly Hoppen, will divide opinion.

Skeptics might doubt that it's a hotel seemingly conceived around Instagrammable scenery - the rooftop pool's 'love swing' has already achieved social media fame. Others will indulge in its seven varieties of Kombucha tea at the breakfast buffet; The Ibiza-lite music flew from every posing point; and rooms with the Japanese high-tech loos that shoot water in unexpected places - as an eardrum-bursting scream from my wife demonstrates.

This is a design-heavy place, where the color palette - strictly black, white and scarlet - even extends to the spines of the novels placed on the bedroom bookshelves.

"We wanted to create the atmosphere of an urban hotel, but on the beach," explains manager Ashish. This may strike some as being about as logical as placing a beachfront hotel in the middle of Soho, but to each their own.

U.S? At first we fear that Grand Baie might not be our kind of place: more Love Island than Love Actually. But after three days of shameless pampering, including a truly sensational massage in its grand modernist spa and a feast of Kobe beef flambéed over burning rice straw in the showcase Japanese restaurant, it was hard to stay sniffy.

And for this water sports addict, the selection of kit and the super friendly beach staff was a treat. Nowhere else have I come across a 'pedalboard' - half paddleboard, half stand-up bike, and all round good fun.

Asked for feedback, as we reluctantly head home, I ask why, despite all the modern opulence, there don't seem to be any waste bins in the rooms (a personal bugbear). “Kelly is very specific about the type of bin she likes,” explains Ashish. Apparently none had been found in time for launch day. I wonder if she'll only allow color coordinated trash in them when they get there.