Seychelles

• Go in the summer silly! - Indian Ocean
• Lovers in Luxury - Maldives
• Feet first into the Maldives - Maldives
• No news, No shoes - Maldives
• My wedding pact with David Walliams - Maldives
• Push the boat out - Seychelles
• Relaxation Addict - Seychelles
• Mauritius the Delicious - Mauritius
• Mr Perma-Tan in Paradise - Mauritius
• Never seen you looking so lovely - Mauritius
• Island Iffy No Longer - Sri Lanka
• Having a swell time! - Seychelles
• Perfect, even for the world’s pickiest guest! - Maldives
• Do not disturb - Mauritius

YOU COULD CALL IT a last hurrah. I was nearing the five-month stage of my pregnancy, sitting at home, kicking my heels and making cups of tea for the builders who were renovating the place from top to toe. I needed a change of scenery and then I remembered how I owed a friend a sunshine break. I’ve known Anna Jane Casey since we were in musicals together.

She sang at my wedding, and I’d promised to treat her. She was about to tread the boards in Chicago but, more pressingly, she was four weeks from running the London Marathon. It seemed she needed a breather, too. Anna has an 18-month-old daughter, and I wanted to pick her brains about baby matters. And with my husband Tom busy with work, it seemed obvious a girly holiday was essential.

A Slow and Easy Rhythm

Once I’d convinced Anna she could miss a week’s training, it was a case of deciding where to go. I’ve developed a soft spot for Banyan Tree resorts – I fell in love withtheir Phuket retreat a couple of years ago – and was intrigued by their new hotel in Bahrain. That seemed a good plan but we discovered our dates clashed with the Bahrain Grand Prix. Not ideal for the break we had in mind.

Suddenly we were faced with a mini-crisis. Anna’s mother could babysit her granddaughter only on one particular week – so we absolutely had to board a plane on the day we’d scheduled. Then the Banyan Tree at the Seychelles came up – and I was soon to discover just how much beauty this island nation holds. The Seychelles are mountainous and jungle-covered, a Lost World of sorts.

The Banyan Tree is on the south-west corner of the main island of Mahe, a fair distance from the airport, and I found myself staring at the scenery during the transfer along the coast road – tiny coves, curving strips of beach, swaying trees, children playing on the sand, fishermen bobbing about in small boats. Heaven, really.

The Banyan Tree itself sits next to a wide sandy crescent of its own, Intendance Bay – although it also blends into the adjacent hillside, where cosy villas huddle discreetly among huge granite boulders and palm groves. As we climbed out of the car, Anna glanced around and burst into tears. In a happy way, of course. Our villa was almost on the ocean. I recall waking up on the first morning, gazing out, and being stunned all over again.

There was our pool, at my feet, with the Jacuzzi to the right. And beyond, a few steps away, was sand and surf. I couldn’t have dreamed of a more picturesque setting. Every evening, the sun would dip into the water in front of us and we’d sit on the verandah watching its glow fade. We could hear the waves at all times. I’ve loved the Indian Ocean since I first saw it. I think it’s to do with its repertoire of colours, those varied greens and blues you see in the Maldives.

But somehow, it looks changed in the Seychelles – still glorious, but more powerful. In the Maldives it hisses gently up the shore, but at Intendance Bay, the ocean roars. We tried splashing in the shallows, and found the breakers pretty boisterous – but playful.

We quickly settled into the slow and easy rhythm of the Seychelles. We certainly had flawless weather, apart from one dramatic storm. We toughed it out from the shelter of our headquarters, while the lightning played across the sky and thunder ricocheted across the hillside. Before we flew, I’d wondered whether the Seychelles was a honeymoon destination – and from what I saw at the Banyan Tree, I was right. The other residents, mainly couples, seemed to keep to themselves in their villas. That suited us fine.

We were in bed by ten each night. I never stay up late in peaceful locations. I would rather wake up early to catch the sunrise. It occurred to me that Anna and I looked like a female take on Bert and Ernie, the Sesame Street characters, tucked up in single beds, smelling of cocoa butter, reading novels and crying at the sad bits.

It Felt Mildly Decadent

I’m not sure what the staff made of us, the pregnant woman and her energetic friend (Anna made full use of the gym to keep her fitness levels high), among all those newlyweds. We even took to dining in the villa. We did try to eat out – the resort has a Thai restaurant and an excellent Creole option – but we were most comfortable at home.

It felt mildly decadent, waiters bringing our order with full silver service and laying it out on the verandah. I wasn’t racked with any particular odd food craving at the time – unless you count food itself, which I was craving massively. We both ate a lot, Anna to build her strength, me because, for once, I was in a position where I could scoff what I wanted and not care about my weight.

Local seafood, burgers and chips, we wolfed it all. And the breakfasts were amazing – piles of pancakes and fruit. We ventured out on occasion, up the hill to the spa. I’m something of a massage connoisseur, and have indulged regularly during my pregnancy. But this was a whole new pleasure. It was all about the setting.

The centre is spectacularly designed, using glass walls that make you think you are hiding in a sort of transparent treehouse in the jungle. And there are individual treatment rooms overlooking the ocean. In such surroundings, my massage could have been terrible and I would not have noticed.

Nearly Crying with Delight

Of course, it was anything but. A lot of masseurs aren’t sure how to handle pregnant women, but my lady – she was Thai – knew exactly what she was doing. I fell asleep for part of it, woke up, saw the view, and nearly copied Anna in crying with delight.

In a way, I wish we had seen more of the area. I’ve sweated out a few active holidays in my time. I saw in the Millennium trekking in Madagascar – we reached the beach on Christmas Eve. It would have been nice to do the Seychelles in a similar way. The interior of Mahe is laced with steep walking trails, and the capital, Victoria, is a bustling small town.

Then there are the other islands – Praslin with its protected forests, La Digue with its lovely beaches. But, in all honesty, we had no desire to move. When you find somewhere so tranquil, it’s a haven, a sanctuary. Even if I hadn’t been pregnant, I’m not sure I could have shifted my eyes from that horizon.

If I never visit the Seychelles again, I will always have a special gallery of pictures in my head. On our last morning, as we were packing, we saw dolphins in Intendance Bay. At first we thought it was an emergency, as a crowd had gathered on the beach. We ran down, and then we saw them – six dolphins surfacing and diving in synch.

There must have been 30 of us on the beach, but there was total silence. I will remember that image with a smile as I change nappies.