The Sprouting Sage and I were on our honeymoon in the Seychelles at the time. We’d been married several months, but that was because a six-month engagement was far too long for those of short attention spans and we became impatient.
It was before the revolution there and Jimmy Mancham was the President. One day, we saw his Rolls Royce parked by a restaurant at a beach, but we didn’t see him. It was an idyllic place – haven’t been back since so can’t say what it’s like now. We stayed on the main island, Mahé and visited some others; Cousin, which was a bird sanctuary, La Digue, where there were no cars and we travelled by ox cart and Praslin, where coco de mer palms grow. We flew to La Digue in a pre-war biplane with 9 seats, including the pilot’s. Rain came in through the canvas. Someone asked about a finny shape in the water below and we were casually told that it was a shark.
The Sage bought me a ring for my birthday, locally made. It is gold with blue enamel, red coral and either pinkish garnets or rubies, can’t remember which. It fits on the middle finger of my left hand.
I was shocked to be no longer a teenager. Leaving my teens seemed to me to be a bigger rite of passage than getting married.