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Miscellaneous (General) Freshwater Pearl Jewelry 08.09.2008 Various kinds of Freshwater Pearl Jewelry made in the Seychelles. Various designs with various colours. Contact me for further information.
Cars and Bikes in Seychelles Suzuki Maruti 08.09.2008 Small very economical car. 1000cc Year: 2003 Body & Engine in very good condition. Air con,Power Steering & Power Windows. MP3 Music System. Lots of servicing spares.
Cars and Bikes in Seychelles Must Sale Suzuki Sumarai 08.09.2008 Color : Green Model : 1996 Condition : Good. Soft Top. 1300CC. Lady Driver
Computers Brand new 1GB RAM for sale! 08.09.2008 Details on RAM:PC2-4200 1GB U-DIMM/CL4 I had orderd t from dubai,but when i got it i found it was not compatible with my PC
House for Sale House For Sale, Machabee 07.09.2008 For further info contact email liberteprop@hotmail.com and we will email further details including purchase price. Located North Point, Machabee, Mahe 1194 Square M 10 years old, Fully renovated Beautiful ocean views Large, 3 Bedroom, 2 Story House 2 Bathrooms including one with Shower/Bath Open Concept living area with large Kitchen/Dining room/Lounge on main floor Fully tiled floors throughout 2 Balconies overlooking North Point and beautiful views overlooking ocean Car Port and parking facilties for 3 vehicles Security Gates Manicured/Landscaped garden Burglar bars on all windows/doors Ceiling Fans in all rooms and Air Con in Main Master bedroom Large Water Tank Holder Enough room to build another house at the back of the Plot PURCHASE PRICE INCLUDES ALL APPLIANCES, FURNITURE AND FITTINGS 10 minutes drive to Beau Vallon and 20 minutes to Victoria
Computers Asus X51Rseries For sale 07.09.2008 :: Processor Intel Celeron M 520 1.6 GHz 1MB L2 Cache, 533 MHz FSB :: Mainboard ATI RS400/RC400/RC410 :: Memory 1024 MB (1GB), DDR2 PC5300 SDRAM, max. 2048MB, 1x512MB :: Graphics adapter ATI XPress 1100 - 0 MB Chip/Clock rate: 329/333MHz :: Display 15.4 Zoll 16:10, 1280x800 pixel, WXGA Color-Shine Glare Type TFT Display, glossy: yes :: Harddisk 80GB 5400rpm Hitachi HTS 541680J9SA00 :: Soundcard Realtek HD Audio :: Connections PCCard, Microphone, Headphones, 4x USB 2.0, VGA-Out, Kensington Lock, LAN, Modem :: Networking 802.11b/g Wireless Lan, 10/100 Ethernet, 56K Modem, Bluetooth Adapter :: Optical drive DVD +/-R (DL) Matshita UJ-850S :: Size height x width x depth (in mm): 36x365x264 :: Weight 2.74 kg :: Battery 4400 mAh lithium ions battery :: Price SR 12,000 :: Additional features 4in1 Cardreader
Seychelles Art & Books The Second Bakery Attack 06.09.2008 The Second Bakery Attack, by Haruki Murakami I'm still not sure I made the right choice when I told my wife about the bakery attack. But then, it might not have been a question of right and wrong. Which is to say that wrong choices can produce right results, and vice versa. I myself have adopted the position that, in fact, we never choose anything at all. Things happen. Or not. If you look at it this way, it just so happens that I told my wife about the bakery attack. I hadn't been planning to bring it up--I had forgotten all about it--but it wasn't one of those now-that-you-mention-it kind of things, either. What reminded me of the bakery attack was an unbearable hunger. It hit just before two o'clock in the morning. We had eaten a light supper at six, crawled into bed at nine-thirty, and gone to sleep. For some reason, we woke up at exactly the same moment. A few minutes later, the pangs struck with the force of the tornado in The Wizard of Oz. These were tremendous, overpowering hunger pangs. Our refrigerator contained not a single item that could be technically categorized as food. We had a bottle of French dressing, six cans of beer, two shriveled onions, a stick of butter, and a box of refrigerator deodorizer. With only two weeks of married life behind us, we had yet to establish a precise conjugal understanding with regard to the rules of dietary behavior. Let alone anything else. I had a job in a law firm at the time, and she was doing secretarial work at a design school. I was either twenty-eight or twenty-nine--why can't I remember the exact year we married?--and she was two years and eight months younger. Groceries were the last things on our minds. We both felt too hungry to go back to sleep, but it hurt just to lie there. On the other hand, we were also too hungry to do anything useful. We got out of bed and drifted into the kitchen, ending up across the table from each other. What could have caused such violent hunger pangs? We took turns opening the refrigerator door and hoping, but no matter how many times we looked inside, the contents never changed. Beer and onions and butter and dressing and deodorizer. It might have been possible to saute the onions in the butter, but there was no chance those two shriveled onions could fill our empty stomachs. Onions are meant to be eaten with other things. They are not the kind of food you use to satisfy an appetite. "Would madame care for some French dressing sauteed in deodorizer?" I expected her to ignore my attempt at humor, and she did. "Let's get in the car and look for an all-night restaurant," I said. "There must be one on the highway." She rejected that suggestion. "We can't. You're not supposed to go out to eat after midnight." She was old-fashioned in that way. I breathed once and said, "I guess not." Whenever my wife expressed such an opinion (or thesis) back then, it reverberated in my ears with the authority of a revelation. Maybe that's what happens with newlyweds, I don't know. But when she said this to me, I began to think that this was a special hunger, not one that could be satisfied through the mere expedient of taking it to an all-night restaurant on the highway. A special kind of hunger. And what might that be? I can present it here in the form of a cinematic image. One, I am in a little boat, floating on a quiet sea. Two, I look down, and in the water, I see the peak of a volcano thrusting up from the ocean floor. Three, the peak seems pretty close to the water's surface, but just how close I cannot tell. Four, this is because the hypertransparency of the water interferes with the perception of distance. This is a fairly accurate description of the image that arose in my mind during the two or three seconds between the time my wife said she refused to go to an all-night restaurant and I agreed with my "I guess not." Not being Sigmund Freud, I was, of course, unable to analyze with any precision what this image signified, but I knew intuitively that it was a revelation. Which is why--the almost grotesque intensity of my hunger notwithstanding--I all but automatically agreed with her thesis (or declaration). We did the only thing we could do: opened the beer. It was a lot better than eating those onions. She didn't like beer much, so we divided the cans, two for her, four for me. While I was drinking the first one, she searched the kitchen shelves like a squirrel in November. Eventually, she turned up a package that had four butter cookies in the bottom. They were leftovers, soft and soggy, but we each ate two, savoring every crumb. It was no use. Upon this hunger of ours, as vast and boundless as the Sinai Peninsula, the butter cookies and beer left not a trace. Time oozed through the dark like a lead weight in a fish's gut. I read the print on the aluminum beer cans. I stared at my watch. I looked at the refrigerator door. I turned the pages of yesterday's paper. I used the edge of a postcard to scrape together the cookie crumbs on the tabletop. "I've never been this hungry in my whole life," she said. "I wonder if it has anything to do with being married." "Maybe," I said. "Or maybe not." While she hunted for more fragments of food, I leaned over the edge of my boat and looked down at the peak of the underwater volcano. The clarity of the ocean water all around the boat gave me an unsettled feeling, as if a hollow had opened somewhere behind my solar plexus--a hermetically sealed cavern that had neither entrance nor exit. Something about this weird sense of absence--this sense of the existential reality of nonexistence--resembled the paralyzing fear you might feel when you climb to the very top of a high steeple. This connection between hunger and acrophobia was a new discovery for me. Which is when it occurred to me that I had once before had this same kind of experience. My stomach had been just as empty then...When?...Oh, sure, that was-- "The time of the bakery attack," I heard myself saying. "The bakery attack? What are you talking about?" And so it started. "I once attacked a bakery. Long time ago. Not a big bakery. Not famous. The bread was nothing special. Not bad, either. One of those ordinary little neighborhood bakeries right in the middle of a block of shops. Some old guy ran it who did everything himself. Baked in the morning, and when he sold out, he closed up for the day." "If you were going to attack a bakery, why that one?" "Well, there was no point in attacking a big bakery. All we wanted was bread, not money. We were attackers, not robbers." "We? Who's we?" "My best friend back then. Ten years ago. We were so broke we couldn't buy toothpaste. Never had enough food. We did some pretty awful things to get our hands on food. The bakery attack was one." "I don't get it." She looked hard at me. Her eyes could have been searching for a faded star in the morning sky. "Why didn't you get a job? You could have worked after school. That would have been easier than attacking bakeries." "We didn't want to work. We were absolutely clear on that." "Well, you're working now, aren't you?" I nodded and sucked some more beer. Then I rubbed my eyes. A kind of beery mud had oozed into my brain and was struggling with hunger pangs. "Times change. People change," I said. "Let's go back to bed. We've got to get up early." "I'm not sleepy. I want you to tell me about the bakery attack." "There's nothing to tell. No action. No excitement." "Was it a success?" I gave up on sleep and ripped open another beer. Once she gets interested in a story, she has to hear it all the way through. That's just the way she is. "Well, it was kind of a success. And kind of not. We got what we wanted. But as a holdup, it didn't work. The baker gave us the bread before we could take it from him." "Free?" "Not exactly, no. That's the hard part." I shook my head. "The baker was a classical-music freak, and when we got there, he was listening to an album of Wagner overtures. So he made us a deal. If we would listen to the record all the way through, we could take as much bread as we liked. I talked it over with my buddy and we figured, Okay. It wouldn't be work in the purest sense of the word, and it wouldn't hurt anybody. So we put our knives back in our bag, pulled up a couple of chairs, and listened to the overtures to Tannhauser and The Flying Dutchman." "And after that, you got your bread?" "Right. Most of what he had in the shop. Stuffed it in our bag and took it home. Kept us fed for maybe four or five days." I took another sip. Like soundless waves from an undersea earthquake, my sleepiness gave my boat a long, slow rocking. "Of course, we accomplished our mission. We got the bread. But you couldn't say we had committed a crime. It was more of an exchange. We listened to Wagner with him, and in return, we got our bread. Legally speaking, it was more like a commercial transaction." "But listening to Wagner is not work," she said. "Oh, no, absolutely not. If the baker had insisted that we wash his dishes or clean his windows or something, we would have turned him down. But he didn't. All he wanted from us was to listen to his Wagner LP from beginning to end. Nobody could have anticipated that. I mean--Wagner? It was like the baker put a curse on us. Now that I think of it, we should have refused. We should have threatened him with our knives and taken the damn bread. Then there wouldn't have been any problem." "You had a problem?" I rubbed my eyes again. "Sort of. Nothing you could put your finger on. But things started to change after that. It was kind of a turning point. Like, I went back to the university, and I graduated, and I started working for the firm and studying the bar exam, and I met you and got married. I never did anything like that again. No more bakery attacks." "That's it?" "Yup, that's all there was to it." I drank the last of the beer. Now all six cans were gone. Six pull-tabs lay in the ashtray like scales from a mermaid. Of course, it wasn't true that nothing had happened as a result of the bakery attack. There were plenty of things that you could have easily put your finger on, but I didn't want to talk about them with her. "So, this friend of yours, what's he doing now?" "I have no idea. Something happened, some nothing kind of thing, and we stopped hanging around together. I haven't seen him since. I don't know what he's doing." For awhile, she didn't speak. She probably sensed that I wasn't telling her the whole story. But she wasn't ready to press me on it. "Still," she said, "that's why you two broke up, isn't it? The bakery attack was the direct cause." "Maybe so. I guess it was more intense than either of us realized. We talked about the relationship of bread to Wagner for days after that. We kept asking ourselves if we had made the right choice. We couldn't decide. Of course, if you look at it sensibly, we did make the right choice. Nobody got hurt. Everybody got what he wanted. The baker--I still can't figure out why he did what he did--but anyway, he succeeded with his Wagner propaganda. And we succeeded in stuffing our faces with bread. "But even so, we had this feeling that we had made a terrible mistake. And somehow, this mistake has just stayed there, unresolved, casting a dark shadow on our lives. That's why I used the word 'curse.' It's true. It was like a curse." "Do you think you still have it?" I took the six pull-tabs from the ashtray and arranged them into an aluminum ring the size of a bracelet. "Who knows? I don't know. I bet the world is full of curses. It's hard to tell which curse makes any one thing go wrong." "That's not true." She looked right at me. "You can tell, if you think about it. And unless you, yourself, personally break the curse, it'll stick with you like a toothache. It'll torture you till you die. And not just you. Me, too." "You?" "Well, I'm your best friend now, aren't I? Why do you think we're both so hungry? I never, ever, once in my life felt a hunger like this until I married you. Don't you think it's abnormal? Your curse is working on me, too." I nodded. Then I broke up the ring of pull-tabs and put them back in the ashtray. I didn't know if she was right, but I did feel she was onto something. The feeling of starvation was back, stronger than ever, and it was giving me a deep headache. Every twinge of my stomach was being transmitted to the core of my head by a clutch cable, as if my insides were equipped with all kinds of complicated machinery. I took another look at my undersea volcano. The water was clearer than before--much clearer. Unless you looked closely, you might not even notice it was there. It felt as though the boat were floating in midair, with absolutely nothing to support it. I could see every little pebble on the bottom. All I had to do was reach out and touch them. "We've only been living together for two weeks," she said, "but all this time I've been feeling some kind of weird presence." She looked directly into my eyes and brought her hands together on the tabletop, her fingers interlocking. "Of course, I didn't know it was a curse until now. This explains everything. You're under a curse." "What kind of presence?" "Like there's this heavy, dusty curtain that hasn't been washed for years, hanging down from the ceiling." "Maybe it's not a curse. Maybe it's just me," I said, and smiled. She did not smile. "No, it's not you," she said. "Okay, supposed you're right. Suppose it is a curse. What can I do about it?" "Attack another bakery. Right away. Now. It's the only way." "Now?" "Yes. Now. While you're still hungry. You have to finish what you left unfinished." "But it's the middle of the night. Would a bakery be open now?" "We'll find one. Tokyo's a big city. There must be at least one all-night bakery." We got into my old Corolla and started drifting around the streets of Tokyo at 2:30 a.m., looking for a bakery. There we were, me clutching the steering wheel, she in the navigator's seat, the two of us scanning the street like hungry eagles in search of prey. Stretched out on the backseat, long and stiff as a dead fish, was a Remington automatic shotgun. Its shells rustled dryly in the pocket of my wife's windbreaker. We had two black ski masks in the glove compartment. Why my wife owned a shotgun, I had no idea. Or ski masks. Neither of us had ever skied. But she didn't explain and I didn't ask. Married life is weird, I felt. Impeccably equipped, we were nevertheless unable to find an all-night bakery. I drove through the empty streets, from Yoyogi to Shinjuku, on to Yosuya and Akasaka, Aoyama, Hiroo, Roppongi, Daikanyama, and Shibuya. Late-night Tokyo had all kinds of people and shops, but no bakeries. Twice we encountered patrol cars. One was huddled at the side of the road, trying to look inconspicuous. The other slowly overtook us and crept past, finally moving off into the distance. Both times I grew damp under the arms, but my wife's concentration never faltered. She was looking for that bakery. Every time she shifted the angle of her body, the shotgun shells in her pocket rustled like buckwheat husks in an old-fashioned pillow. "Let's forget it," I said. "There aren't any bakeries open at this time of night. You've got to plan for this kind of thing or else--" "Stop the car!" I slammed on the brakes. "This is the place," she said. The shops along the street had their shutters rolled down, forming dark, silent walls on either side. A barbershop sign hung in the dark like a twisted, chilling glass eye. There was a bright McDonald's hamburger sign some two hundred yards ahead, but nothing else. "I don't see any bakery," I said. Without a word, she opened the glove compartment and pulled out a roll of cloth-backed tape. Holding this, she stepped out of the car. I got out on my side. Kneeling at the front end, she tore off a length of tape and covered the numbers on the license plate. Then she went around to the back and did the same. There was a practiced efficiency to her movements. I stood on the curb staring at her. "We're going to take that McDonald's," she said, as coolly as if she were announcing what we would have for dinner. "McDonald's is not a bakery," I pointed out to her. "It's like a bakery," she said. "Sometimes you have to compromise. Let's go." I drove to the McDonald's and parked in the lot. She handed me the blanket-wrapped shotgun. "I've never fired a gun in my life," I protested. "You don't have to fire it. Just hold it. Okay? Do as I say. We walk right in, and as soon as they say, 'Welcome to McDonald's,' we slip on our masks. Got that?" "Sure, but--" "Then you shove the gun in their faces and make all the workers and customers get together. Fast. I'll do the rest." "But--" "How many hamburgers do you think we'll need? Thirty?" "I guess so." With a sigh, I took the shotgun and rolled back the blanket a little. The thing was as heavy as a sandbag and as black as a dark night. "Do we really have to do this?" I asked, half to her and half to myself. "Of course we do." Wearing a McDonald's hat, the girl behind the counter flashed me a McDonald's smile and said, "Welcome to McDonald's." I hadn't thought that girls would work at McDonald's late at night, so the sight of her confused me for a second. But only for a second. I caught myself and pulled on the mask. Confronted with this suddenly masked duo, the girl gaped at us. Obviously, the McDonald's hospitality manual said nothing about how do deal with a situation like this. She had been starting to form the phrase that comes after "Welcome to McDonald's," but her mouth seemed to stiffen and the words wouldn't come out. Even so, like a crescent moon in the dawn sky, the hint of a professional smile lingered at the edges of her lips. As quickly as I could manage, I unwrapped the shotgun and aimed it in the direction of the tables, but the only customers there were a young couple--students, probably--and they were facedown on the plastic table, sound asleep. Their two heads and two strawberry-milk-shake cups were aligned on the table like an avant-garde sculpture. They slept the sleep of the dead. They didn't look likely to obstruct our operation, so I swung my shotgun back toward the counter. All together, there were three McDonald's workers. The girl at the counter, the manager--a guy with a pale, egg-shaped face, probably in his late twenties--and a student type in the kitchen--a thin shadow of a guy with nothing on his face that you could read as an expression. They stood together behind the register, staring into the muzzle of my shotgun like tourists peering down an Incan well. No one screamed, and no one made a threatening move. The gun was so heavy I had to rest the barrel on top of the cash register, my finger on the trigger. "I'll give you the money," said the manager, his voice hoarse. "They collected it at eleven, so we don't have too much, but you can have everything. We're insured." "Lower the front shutter and turn off the sign," said my wife. "Wait a minute," said the manager. "I can't do that. I'll be held responsible if I close up without permission." My wife repeated her order, slowly. He seemed torn. "You'd better do what she says," I warned him. He looked at the muzzle of the gun atop the register, then at my wife, and then back at the gun. He finally resigned himself to the inevitable. He turned off the sign and hit a switch on an electrical panel that lowered the shutter. I kept my eye on him, worried that he might hit a burglar alarm, but apparently McDonald's don't have burglar alarms. Maybe it had never occurred to anybody to attack one. The front shutter made a huge racket when it closed, like an empty bucket being smashed with a baseball bat, but the couple sleeping at their table was still out cold. Talk about a sound sleep: I hadn't seen anything like that in years. "Thirty Big Macs. For takeout," said my wife. "Let me just give you the money," pleaded the manager. "I'll give you more than you need. You can go buy food somewhere else. This is going to mess up my accounts and--" "You'd better do what she says," I said again. The three of them went into the kitchen area together and started making the thirty Big Macs. The student grilled the burgers, the manager put them in buns, and the girl wrapped them up. Nobody said a word. I leaned against a big refrigerator, aiming the gun toward the griddle. The meat patties were lined up on the griddle like brown polka dots, sizzling. The sweet smell of grilling meat burrowed into every pore of my body like a swarm of microscopic bugs, dissolving into my blood and circulating to the farthest corners, then massing together inside my hermetically sealed hunger cavern, clinging to its pink walls. A pile of white-wrapped burgers was growing nearby. I wanted to grab and tear into them, but I could not be certain that such an act would be consistent with our objective. I had to wait. In the hot kitchen area, I started sweating under my ski mask. The McDonald's people sneaked glances at the muzzle of the shotgun. I scratched my ears with the little finger of my left hand. My ears always get itchy when I'm nervous. Jabbing my finger into an ear through the wool, I was making the gun barrel wobble up and down, which seemed to bother them. It couldn't have gone off accidentally, because I had the safety on, but they didn't know that and I wasn't about to tell them. My wife counted the finished hamburgers and put them into two small shopping bags, fifteen burgers to a bag. "Why do you have to do this?" the girl asked me. "Why don't you just take the money and buy something you like? What's the good of eating thirty Big Macs?" I shook my head. My wife explained, "We're sorry, really. But there weren't any bakeries open. If there had been, we would have attacked a bakery." That seemed to satisfy them. At least they didn't ask any more questions. Then my wife ordered two large Cokes from the girl and paid for them. "We're stealing bread, nothing else," she said. The girl responded with a complicated head movement, sort of like nodding and sort of like shaking. She was probably trying to do both at the same time. I thought I had some idea how she felt. My wife then pulled a ball of twine from her pocket--she came equipped--and tied the three to a post as expertly as if she were sewing on buttons. She asked if the cord hurt, or if anyone wanted to go to the toilet, but no one said a word. I wrapped the gun in the blanket, she picked up the shopping bags, and out we went. The customers at the table were still asleep, like a couple of deep-sea fish. What would it have taken to rouse them from a sleep so deep? We drove for a half hour, found an empty parking lot by a building, and pulled in. There we ate hamburgers and drank our Cokes. I sent six Big Macs down to the cavern of my stomach, and she ate four. That left twenty Big Macs in the back seat. Our hunger--that hunger that had felt as if it could go on forever--vanished as the dawn was breaking. The first light of the sun dyed the building's filthy walls purple and made a giant SONY BETA ad tower glow with painful intensity. Soon the whine of highway truck tires was joined by the chirping of birds. The American Armed Forces radio was playing cowboy music. We shared a cigarette. Afterward, she rested her head on my shoulder. "Still was it really necessary for us. to do this?" I asked. "Of course it was!" With one deep sigh, she fell asleep against me. She felt as soft and as light as a kitten. Alone now, I leaned over the edge of my boat and looked down to the bottom of the sea. The volcano was gone. The water's calm surface reflected the blue of the sky. Little waves--like silk pajamas fluttering in a breeze--lapped against the side of the boat. There was nothing else. I stretched out in the bottom of the boat and closed my eyes, waiting for the rising tide to carry me where I belonged.
Seychelles Real Estate Agents Properties for sale on the South Coast 06.09.2008 If you are looking for properties on the South Coast, Look no further. Contact me for further details.
Seychelles Car Parts WANTED: Toyota Corolla EE80 Doors 06.09.2008 Anyone who's looking to sell their EE80 doors (all 4 doors)in good condition (i.e. windows still works and everything still intact), please get in touch with me at dan2084@hotmail.com.
Business in Seychelles New Super Market at Glacis 06.09.2008 "VIMAL SHOPPING CENTRE" a new supermarket opens on Friday with excellent location at Glacis (Main Road). You’re Non-Stop shopping Experience for your grocery needs.
Seychelles News Seychelles receives military equipment from the Indian ... 06.09.2008 Seychelles receives military equipment from the Indian army APA - Victoria (Seychelles) The Indian High Commissioner to Seychelles Asit Kumar Nag on Thursday handed over to the Chief of Staff of the Seychelles People’s Defence Forces (SPDF) Colonel Clifford Roseline workshop equipment for use by the country’s coast guard. The ceremony, which took place in New Port in the Seychellois capital, Victoria saw the presence of the Flag Officer Commanding the Indian Western Fleet, Rear Admiral Anil Chopra, and the commanding officers of two Indian naval vessels; INS Talwar and INS Godavari, which are presently on a goodwill mission to the country. Colonel Roseline, who received the gifts, said that the visit of the vessels gives more impetus to the continuing defence cooperation that exists between the two countries and indicated that Seychelles has "special relations" with the Indian sub-continent. link to the full article: http://www.apanews.net/apa.php?page=show_article_eng&id_article=74515
Seychelles News Seychelles to Hold Talks With IMF Following Default on ... 06.09.2008 Seychelles to Hold Talks With IMF Following Default on Notes By Kim-Mai Cutler Sept. 5 (Bloomberg) -- The Seychelles will hold talks today with the International Monetary Fund after the island nation defaulted on 54.8 million euros ($78 million) of privately placed securities, an IMF spokesman said. A team of IMF economists is visiting the Indian Ocean archipelago, said Niels Buenemann, a Washington-based spokesman for the organization. Standard & Poor's cut the country's foreign- currency credit rating to SD, or ``selective default,'' from CCC on Aug. 7 after bondholders said the government failed to pay interest and principal on the notes. The government has an interest payment due Oct. 3 for a separate $230 million issue of notes, according to S&P. The New York-based ratings company last month lowered its assessment on those securities to CCC-, signaling ``a very high likelihood of default.'' ``Historically the Seychelles has had difficult relations with the fund and other multilateral development banks, but that doesn't stop them from meeting each other,'' said David Beers, S&P's London-based managing director of the global sovereign ratings group. ``It would be entirely speculative at this point to talk about what this latest group of fund representatives are hoping to accomplish and whether it leads to an agreement.'' Talks Requested The yield on the Seychelles' dollar-denominated October 2011 security is 39.57 percent, down from 41.77 percent a week ago. The price of the 9.125 percent note has fallen to 48 cents, from 92.5 cents on July 31. Bondholders posted a notice in the Financial Times on July 31 saying the government failed to pay interest and principal on the privately placed notes maturing in 2011. The government said it didn't pay because of ``irregularities in the issuance-approval process and a lack of transparency in the note documentation,'' S&P said Aug. 1. The Seychelles Ministry of Finance didn't immediately return calls from Bloomberg News today. ``The authorities in the Seychelles have requested discussions on a program with the IMF, which may include financial support,'' Buenemann said in a telephone interview yesterday. Slowing global economic growth is hurting tourism in the Seychelles, according to S&P. The industry employs about 30 percent of the labor force, United Nations data shows. The former British colony is made up of an archipelago of about 115 islands scattered over more than 1 million square kilometers (386,102 square miles) in the western Indian Ocean. It has a $710 million economy and a population of 84,000. The last sovereign default was Belize in 2006, after which most debt holders agreed last year to exchange their bonds for securities maturing in 2029. To contact the reporter on this story: Kim-Mai Cutler in London at kcutler@bloomberg.net. Last Updated: September 5, 2008 07:54 EDT http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601116&sid=akaeJUGZ7a.s&refer=africa
Jobs and Work in Seychelles Searching for an Italian Tutor 05.09.2008 Am currently searching for an Italian Tutor whose ready to teach me Italian Please contact me as soon as possible.
Cars and Bikes in Seychelles Mitsubishi Tween Cab L200 FOR SALE!!!! 04.09.2008 Body and Engine in very good condition, if you are interested it's a very good occasion. Very good looking. If you are interested call 712151
Computer Hardware & Software Casing 04.09.2008 Computer casing, brand "Mercury". Includes dvd rom @ 200r 280w power supply @ 300r
Computer Hardware & Software Motherboard 04.09.2008 GIGABYTE GA-945GCM-S2L 1. Support Intel® Core™2 Extreme/ Core™2 Duo FSB 1066 Processor 2. Dual Channel DDR2 667 for advanced system performance 3. Integrated Intel® Graphic Media Accelerator 950 4. Features SATA 3Gb/s interface 5. Optimized Gigabit LAN connection 6. Integrate Intel High Definition Audio
BeachFront Property for Sale Anse Coral Takamaka Beach front 04.09.2008 1 acre of Prime Virgin land situated at Takamaka anse Coral, Private secluded beach. Picturesque location. Private beach. Land stretch from the road to the beach. View to appreciate.
BeachFront Property for Sale Beachfront property at anse Boileau 04.09.2008 3 bedroom villa, 2 bathroom with fantastic sea view private undisturned secluded beach close to Maiea hotel. Viewing a must..
House for Sale House at La Poudrier for sale 04.09.2008 Town centre property 3 bed house in quiet residential area. The plot area 943sq mtre. Parking space for 2 cars.
Cars and Bikes in Seychelles Quick Sale: Toyota Trueno 03.09.2008 Toyota Trueno with 1600cc Supercharged engine. Engine has just been completely overhauled and is in excellent running/racing condition. With all new service parts: rack-ends, tie-rod-ends, ball joints, c.v. joints, timing belt, lower arm bush, etc all new. With Turbo-Timer, sunroof, pure carbon-fibre spoiler, alloy low-profile rims, neon, ect... Also powerful Pioneer Music system with pre-amp equalizer included. Body in good condition, with front bodykit (just re-done) and sideskirts.... Also has accessories for sale, such as tachometer with shift light, pulley kit, 808 muffler, K&N Filter, Fuel Charger (for minimising fuel consumption), etc. . . Make an offer.... Call 776000 or e-mail djdee69@hotmail.com for viewing, serious buyers only, no test-pilots, please.
Cars and Bikes in Seychelles Cool Car 03.09.2008 Peugeot 206 Silver/Gold, Ready to Drive make an offer & reserve it for the end of the month simply nice & cool + well maintain
House for Sale 5 Bedroom House for SALE at Reef Estate 02.09.2008 Beautifull 5 bedroom house for SALE on pristine 2771 Sqm of land (or 0.685 hec) in quite location of one of Seychelles best known upmarket estate known as Reef Estate at Anse Aux Pins. The property hence the house overlooks the long stretch of Anse Aux Pins reef and is within a stone throw to the famous Seychelles Golf Course and furthermore within 10mins walk to the beautifull Anse Aux Pins beach. *The house is a ground plus one floor * On upper floor there is the En-Suite Master bedroom + 2 other bedrooms + a bathroom & balcony overseeing the reef. *On ground floor there is 2 bedrooms + 1 bathroom + living & dinning room + kitchen + a pantry and verenda *There is good access drive going to the house + a carport *Mature fruit trees in the well looked after garden *Two stores + water storage tank outside *All bedrooms are fully airconditioned and the house itself is well secured with high quality buglars bars. For further details do not hesitate to contact me.
Electronics, Cameras & Mobiles Motorola L6 02.09.2008 SUMMARY OF FEATURES: • Ultra sleek sliver form with vivid glass color display • Integrated 4x zoom VGA digital camera with auto-timer and multimedia photo album creation • Video capture and playback with support of MPEG4, .3gpp, H.263 files • Hands-free communications via Bluetooth wireless technology* and integrated hands-free speaker • PoC for quick connections to one or many ** • MP3 and polyphonic ringtones with 22 KHz speaker and 24 channels • Messaging via MMS* and Instant Messaging* via IM Wireless Village • Preloaded & downloadable* games, wallpapers, MP3 ringtones, video clips, screensavers and animations • Personal Information Management (PIM) functionality, Picture caller ID* and Internet access
Seychelles Property & Land beautiful villa on la digue island 02.09.2008 The property is in total 20,ooosqm of land with 3 plateaus of flat land already good for future developement. it is located in an exclusive tranquile place with i step away from the white sand of the beautiful beach, not to mention that the property has a beautiful scenic view of the outer island. this property is good building chalets or small hotel to blend in with the environment.
Houses for rent - long term House For Rent, Machabee, 01.09.2008 For further info contact email liberteprop@hotmail.com and we will email further details on rental price etc. Located North Point, Machabee, Mahe 1194 Square M 10 years old, Fully renovated Beautiful ocean views Large, 3 Bedroom, 2 Story House Fully Furnished Internet/Cable TV connections available 2 Bathrooms including one with Shower/Bath Open Concept living area with large Kitchen/Dining room/Lounge on main floor Laundry Room with Washer/Dryer Fully tiled floors throughout 2 Balconies overlooking North Point and beautiful views overlooking ocean Car Port and parking facilties for 3 vehicles Security Gates Manicured/Landscaped garden Burglar bars on all windows/doors Ceiling Fans in all rooms and Air Con in Main Master bedroom Large Water Tank Holder 10 minutes drive to Beau Vallon and 20 minutes to Vic
Houses for rent - short term Two Bedroom House for Rent - Expatriate Only 01.09.2008 Two Bedroom House available for rent immediatly. For more details contact 760107 or 790194
Cars and Bikes in Seychelles Toyota AE 92 01.09.2008 good running condition. Power steering,power window,central lock... Road tax & insurance paid till 2009
Electronics, Cameras & Mobiles Kodak photo printer 01.09.2008 For sale 1 digital photo printer with cartridge & paper (New)
Seychelles Home & Garden Home & Garden - clean your site or cut your grass 01.09.2008 Are you looking for someone to clean your site or cut your grass at an affordable price? If so please contact the number below.
Seychelles Real Estate - wanted Looking forward to buy or rent 3-4 bedroom house 01.09.2008 Looking forward to buy or rent 3-4 bedroom house or just land. price range up to 1'000'000 SCR please send offer with location, map and pictures to my email adress professionalcrew@gmx.net
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