or: Frangipanis are one of life’s simple pleasures

One of the 974 things I like about being somewhere tropical is the frangipani.

I’m a bit of a frangipani purist too – I favour the original, the white ones with the yellow centres. Sure there are other brighter, fancier ones (I’m thinking about the bright to deep pink one with the white and yellow centre) to the pale pink with the yellow centre yet there is something simple and pure about the white one, particularly if it has yet to catch too much sun and remains unburnt at the edges.

When those edges catch a bit of sun or have been in a vase for too long, they go a shade of brown that gives them a bruised look. I feel a little sorry for them then, they have lost their innocence and have been ravaged by the heat of the day or lack of water. Their smell dims. They won’t last much longer.

The flowers mark a change of season as the little buds start to appear on the tree that for the rest of the year resembles ancient arthritic fingers on a deformed hand before sprouting dark green leaves. I enjoy watching this transformation and the promise of the new season. It’s fresh.

They open and the smell is the smell of the tropics. Except for the salt water, the thunderstorms, coconut oil and barbecues. Now, if that combined smell could be bottled, it could quite rightly be named Endless Summer.

Frangipanis remind me of walking home from school when I was younger, my mind wandering all over the place while my legs followed my Mum and brother home on autopilot. We passed many of these bushes along the way and often there were cicada shells too which I collect to take to school the next day. Then my mind wandered some more as I picked up some fallen flowers, being careful there were no burnt bits.

Walks down to the beach from our apartment on the hill would also see us pass these trees. My Gran would take me and tell me how these flowers were turned into perfume and how they were one of her favourite flowers. It seems like most women in my family like these flowers.

I’ve even grown one in HK from a branch that fell. It is left to dry for a a few months, put in a pot and then grew for two years before it too flowered. It has moved with me to all my places in HK. It didn’t come to Japan. It is at a friend’s place at the moment. Flowering again.

I have been fortunate they have been in every country I’ve lived and quite a few where I’ve holidayed.

And now here I am in Mauritius.

I am happy.

There are fangipanis flowering.

* Thanks to the Eels for the title to this post.