Mystery and magic in Seychelles

There’s no time for hesitation as I rush towards the waiting helicopter, clinging tightly to my panama hat as the spinning blades whip up a breeze.

Author Ian Fleming holidayed in the Seychelles in 1958, and even used the sun-splashed fairyland as a source of inspiration for some of his 007 novels.

Originally built by an eccentric retired English colonel, the Northolme has been revamped several times and is now a boutique resort. Each villa is hidden in the midst of tropical greenery and reflects the Creole architecture of the island. The Seychelles is a sanctuary for rare flora, including the cannonball tree, which shades paths to the suites. I cup my hands around a large, spherical fruit as heavy as a cannonball.

As I stroll through the gardens, I imagine a Bond girl dipping her toes in the water and staring out to the Indian Ocean. The warm, tropical waters are home to more than 400 species of reef fish and 300 species of coral. From the tranquillity of our sun deck, I spy a hawksbill turtle not far from the shore, where waves lap granite rocks.

As Ian noted in The Hildebrand Rarity, marine life here is ‘a riot of colour and movement’, especially in the Northolme’s secluded beach cove. Wading into the calm, azure sea, I don’t need a snorkel to see the green parrot fish, schools of reef fish, a baby reef shark and a curious stingray that seems drawn to my legs.

Keen to explore more, we take a kayak out for a paddle across the cove and as we skirt the edge of the coral-fringed granite boulders jutting out from the sea, we spot armies of red crabs basking in the midday sun. 

Victoria is a bustling port and the Sir Selwyn Selwyn-Clarke Market is one of its most colourful attractions. Saturday is the busiest day, but we manage to jostle our way into the fishmongers’ corner at the entrance. 

Locals haggle for freshly caught tuna, octopus and red snapper, which are displayed in all their glory, while barefoot fishermen hose down their filleting stations. We head to the dry foods section, where bundles of cinnamon sticks, nuggets of ginger and sweet-smelling bails of lemongrass are for sale. Overhead, a kaleidoscope of kaftans and sarongs hanging from the first-floor balcony shops entices me to head upstairs.

If he visited now, 007 would surely give Labriz his seal of approval. I can even imagine Daniel Craig emerging from the crashing waves in those famous blue swimming shorts.