LE BAL DU DIMANCHE AUX COCOTIERS NIGHT CLUB

Once open-air, now covered, it's one of Port Mathurin's institutions and our eternal favorite: a place where all the island's generations, social classes and families have met and continue to meet... and where you can immerse yourself in the holy of holies of local culture. One hundred percent intact and miraculously untouched by the passage of time, the place, with its village hall feel, exudes a delightfully old-fashioned atmosphere. Admire the street-side mural (fresco), cross the threshold, pay for your ticket at the box office, cross the courtyard and let yourself be absorbed by the semi-darkness of the room and the genuinely offbeat atmosphere that reigns in this unlikely dance hall! In the evenings, so-called "musique actuelle" takes precedence over reggae or sega, and the place is mostly frequented by young people who come to feast with friends on retro, modern or local music, and attend live concerts - see the program on Facebook.

Sunday afternoons are the best, from 12pm to 3pm and 4pm to 5pm (with retro music in between), when the older crowd goes wild to the rhythms of sega drums. The hall is a little stuffy, often packed to the rafters, with the orchestra on stage and skai benches arranged around the central dance floor, which is crossed by concrete pillars. The ladies are seated in onion rows, looking very elegant in their Sunday best: well-groomed hairstyles, well-chosen finery, a slightly compassive bearing, incredible faces bearing witness to a life in the open air swept by winds and sea spray. The same attention to detail is evident in most of the men: although not the norm, suits are not uncommon, or at least pants with darts and a shirt, and sometimes even a jacket... When the notes of the accordion and the drum are played, social codes are on display: the gentle hand gesture that a man makes to invite a lady, and the waltz or mazurka that follows, cadenced, proudly performed, without even an exchange of words, with simple pleasure in the eyes, and pride in the gaze that meets that of the stranger.

It's an opportunity to experience a sincere, true, moving moment in Rodriguese life: this little Sunday ball where curious travelers are welcomed as distinguished guests, invited to dance by the elders, and from which they leave as if uprooted, disoriented, leaving a piece of their heart in the heat of a room at the end of the world..