Long Beach, Mauritius: Where Dreams Drift Ashore

There are places that you remember, and then there are places that remember you.

Long Beach, Mauritius is one of the latter.

Nestled on the untamed east coast of this volcanic island in the Indian Ocean, Long Beach isn’t merely a resort—it’s a realm of contradictions, where luxury waltzes with wildness, and time forgets to tick. Tourists speak of it in reverent tones, and locals, when they do mention it, speak as though describing a memory, rather than a location.

In truth, Long Beach is more than just a stretch of sand and sun—it’s a story, layered in color and salt, constantly rewritten by the wind.

Arrival: First Breath of Paradise

The moment I stepped out of the air-conditioned car, the scent of frangipani mixed with sea salt engulfed me like a lover’s embrace. The sky was a theatre of blazing oranges and mellow blues, hinting at the nearing dusk. A team of smiling staff greeted me with fresh sugarcane juice and a garland of bougainvillea, a custom at Long Beach since it opened in 2011. But the land here, they say, has been welcoming weary souls for centuries.

Once the site of an old sugar estate, the area was reclaimed from time’s grip, redesigned into a sustainable sanctuary. But if you ask the locals, they’ll tell you this place was always magical—long before the modern world drew lines on maps.

The Resort: Architecture of Air and Light

The architecture of Long Beach could be called “tropical minimalism,” but that wouldn’t quite capture the way the walls seem to breathe, or how the rooftops seem to float on the breeze. Designed to harmonize with its natural surroundings, the buildings are made with volcanic stone, pale timber, and soft linen awnings that dance to the rhythm of the wind.

No room is without an ocean view. Even the most modest suite has its own private terrace, complete with a hammock that faces the sun as it rises. Mine had a small plunge pool that seemed to spill directly into the ocean. At night, I’d lie in the warm water, tracing constellations in the sky and listening to the sea whisper stories it had carried from Madagascar and Sri Lanka.

Morning: Yoga, Coral, and Coffee

Each day at Long Beach begins differently for everyone, but for me, it began with yoga under the shade of the ancient filao trees. The instructor, a Mauritian woman named Amira, spoke little and smiled often. Her presence alone was grounding, like the basalt boulders that pepper the coastline.

After yoga, I’d head to Tides, one of the five restaurants, for what I came to call “coral coffee”—a house specialty made with local beans and a touch of sea lavender, served with a slice of cassava cake wrapped in banana leaf.

Some mornings I joined a group that snorkeled out to the reef. Other days, I wandered the nearby forest trails where monkeys chattered in the canopy and wild orchids clung to the cliffs. Once, I found a carved stone in the brush with the initials J.B. 1873. When I asked the hotel concierge, he simply smiled and said, “Every guest leaves something behind. Some things just last longer.”

A Village of Secrets: Belle Mare Reimagined

Long Beach was built near Belle Mare, a fishing village that has seen more shipwrecks than storms. The villagers believe the reef offshore—an ancient horseshoe-shaped barrier—is alive. They say it hums on certain nights and pulls in the ships it deems greedy or lost.

One evening, I visited the Belle Mare market with a guide named Ravi. He wore flip-flops, a linen shirt, and a weather-beaten straw hat. “This market,” he said, gesturing at the crisscrossing stalls of fruit and fish, “has stood since my great-grandmother’s time. But not always in the same place.”

We bought vanilla beans, rum-spiced jam, and a pair of earrings made from mother-of-pearl. Ravi introduced me to a woman named Madam Celestine, the village’s unofficial historian, who claimed Long Beach was once where pirates buried their regrets, not their gold.

I asked if she believed that. She winked. “Here, regrets have more value than treasure.”

Twilight and Fireflies: Dinner with the Sea

Each evening at Long Beach is an event. One night, I dined at Sapori, the Italian restaurant that somehow made risotto taste like the sea itself. Another evening was dedicated to Hasu, their Japanese restaurant, where the sushi was paired with lemongrass gin and eaten to the sound of drums from the beach.

But my favorite night was the beach barbecue, held once a week under the full moon. Tables are dug into the sand, torches flicker in the wind, and fire dancers leap and twist to the rhythm of sega music. I shared that meal with other guests—strangers until then, now companions united by moonlight and grilled marlin.

We drank ti’ punch made with wild lime and clove, and someone passed around a guitar. A woman from Denmark sang a lullaby in her language, and the night, for a moment, felt like it belonged to no country and every heart.

The Tides Within: Spa and Stillness

Long Beach’s Cinq Mondes Spa is tucked behind a veil of palm fronds and bamboo, a sanctuary within a sanctuary. Its treatment rooms are named after winds—Mistral, Scirocco, Alizé—and are scented with ylang-ylang, nutmeg, and hibiscus.

I booked a “Voyage Mauricien” treatment: a fusion of Indian, Chinese, and African techniques that spoke to the island’s own mixed heritage. My therapist, a man named Suresh, pressed into my muscles as though coaxing out memories.

“You carry ocean weight,” he murmured once.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s what happens when you forget who you were before you touched the sea.”

Not Just a Hotel: A Living Story

What sets Long Beach apart isn’t just its impeccable service or its postcard-perfect setting. It’s something subtler, woven into the fabric of the place. It’s in how every staff member knows your name by the second day, how the bartender at Shores Lounge knows your favorite drink before you ask, or how a musician strums the same lullaby you hummed under your breath the night before.

There’s a story here that continues to evolve, a mythology in real time.

Leaving Isn’t Simple

On my final morning, I walked the beach at dawn, my toes tracing the foam where sea met sand. The tide was retreating, and I found a broken shell shaped like a crescent moon. I pocketed it.

At checkout, the receptionist handed me a small envelope. “From Madam Celestine,” she said.

Inside was a folded piece of rice paper with seven words written in Creole:

“Bizin ale pou toune veritabman reve.”

You must leave to truly dream.

Epilogue: The Return Dream

It’s been six months since I left Long Beach, but not a day has passed that I haven’t revisited it in memory.

Sometimes I dream of Amira’s voice during yoga. Sometimes it’s the rhythm of the waves, the drums at twilight, or the scent of bougainvillea in the night air. And sometimes, in the silence between sleep and wake, I swear I hear the reef humming to itself.

Maybe I will return. Maybe I already have.

Because once Long Beach finds you, you’re never really lost again.

Long Beach at a Glance

• Location: Belle Mare, East Coast, Mauritius
• Opened: 2011
• Rooms: 255 ocean-facing suites and family-friendly villas
• Dining: Five restaurants (Italian, Japanese, Mauritian, seafood grill, and buffet)
• Activities: Snorkeling, yoga, cooking classes, guided market tours, diving, tennis, golf access
• Best time to visit: May to November (cooler, drier months)
• Vibe: Wild, refined, deeply restorative