Réunion: Three days of hiking through an extinct crater

I remember sitting at home with my mouth open, staring at the images that come up when I typed "mountains of Réunion" into Google. Narrow, green-covered mountains and deep valleys through which rivers flow and waterfalls plunge. I can still picture that image when I stand at a quarter to 6 in the morning at the top of Le Maïdo, a viewpoint on a 2,190 meter high mountain top that looks down on one of the three extinct volcanic craters (cirques) on the island. Réunion: Cirque de Mafate.

Now I'm really there. The first rays of sunlight come over the edges of the volcano on the other side of this gigantic valley, the sun is still hidden behind the top. Except for the echoing sound of the falls below me, it is dead quiet. As modern as the French Réunion - an island east of Madagskar - is, this ancient crater is still completely closed off from the rest of the world. No roads, no cars, but more than 800 permanent residents. There are tiny villages almost a kilometer below me. Hamlets that are only accessible on foot or by helicopter.

I want to see it and so I descend on January 27 to the "capital of Mafate": La Nouvelle. My backpack contains everything I need for the next three days. Funny how little that actually is when you really look critically. A steep mountain path lined with

tropical foliage leads me through tamarind forests, open plains and what appears to be some of the island's most beautiful vistas. Today, however, the valley is filled with thick fog and our view does not reach further than two meters. In three hours we descend from about 2,000 to 1,400 meters. The fog clears slightly and reveals the first sight of La Nouvelle, where we are welcomed by crowing roosters and howling lawn mowers.

Besides tiny hamlets, La Nouvelle is the only village in Mafate. It has about 150 inhabitants, grass paths connecting houses, a bakery - the only one in the valley -, a café and a handful of gîtes, or mountain huts where hikers can also enjoy breakfast and a communal dinner. I lean back in my plastic chair at the only cafe in the village. Sheep and cows are grazing. Chickens, dogs and roosters run around freely. There is not much to do here, but a village so isolated from the rest of the world is an experience in itself.

There are several primary schools in Mafate, one of which is in La Nouvelle. A French lady tells in the evening at the table that the teachers come down every Monday morning and start again every Friday afternoon on the trip back up to the mountain top Col des

Boeufs, the place where we started. A nice walk to work. Since there is no power supply, the residents of Mafate produce their own electricity with solar panels and solar boilers for hot water. Diesel generators and gas heaters are also used, but much more sparingly, as gas bottles and fuel have to be delivered by helicopter at a high cost.

The next day the fog has finally lifted and all I see are the enormous mountain peaks that surround us. We continue to Marla, a hamlet of 52 inhabitants. This trail is a bit wilder, up and down, past crushing viewpoints. Waterfalls cascade down the mountains from thousands of feet, wild orchids grow around the trail, and icy rivers provide a welcome relief. We only encounter a few other hikers. When we arrive in tiny Marla, we start talking to Franck at the only café in the hamlet. He is a trail runner, works at a gite and grew up in Marla. I estimate him to be around 25 years old. "I lived in France for seven years, but I'd rather be here," he laughs. "I like the peace. Better the occasional helicopter flying overhead than the constant noise of cars speeding past. "

Franck tells us that a helicopter comes once a month to collect rubbish. A nurse is also flown in every month, to which residents can go with complaints. "If you have serious injuries and you can no longer walk, you will be picked up by a helicopter. That is part of the French healthcare system, you only pay a contribution of eight euros, "he grins. "Are you sure you can't walk yourself" they will ask. If you can still get out of the valley on your own, they won't come. "

That evening in Marla we sleep in brightly colored wooden huts that we share with dozens of other walkers: from couples with babies to people over 50. We queue up to take a shower, have a chat and reconnect in the evening for a joint hearty meal, prepared with products from the valley. From my single bed with a children's duvet cover, I look out over Mafate. The clouds pass over the mountains, cows moo and the grass is mowed again. How very special to be so isolated from the rest of the world, places like this you don't find much anymore.