You know my idea of fun?   

You’re expecting me to say sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, wild parties, cocaine-fuelled late-night debauchery! Guilty as charged... that sounds like a bit of me.   

But no, my idea of fun is a map.   

I’ve got a huge, detailed one on my wall. Winkle triple projection, Pacific-centred, of course. I can wile away hours, whole afternoons, intercontinental flights, just staring at a map. 

And when you stare at a detailed map, you’re drawn to curiosities. To extremes. And naturally of course you’re drawn into imagining or fantasising what those places might be like in-person, rather than simple a coordinate on your wall.   

There are three remote, extreme, curious places on Earth I’ve always fantasised about seeing. One is La Rinconada, the highest permanently populated town in the World. It’s in the Peruvian Andes, a grim, freezing mining town with a violent crime problem and where a slab of the residents may or may not have mercury poisoning. It’s higher than Everest Base Camp. And if YouTube is anything to go by, it is about as far from a few nights at Denarau as it’s possible to be.   

The next are the Kerguelen Islands, aka the Desolation Islands, a vast 7000km2 archipelago in the sub-Antarctic. It’s home to amazing wildlife and a few dozen French scientists. And it’s huge! The main island is 150km long and 120km wide. Have you ever heard of it? It’s one of the most remote places on Earth.  

And my final isle of intrigue is Diego Garcia. My Dad first told me about it as a kid. Imagine a point in the middle of the Indian Ocean, below India and about halfway between Tanzania and Bali.   

For decades, Diego Garcia has been home to one of the most mysterious and secretive military bases on the planet. Its strategic location, its military runway, its fleet of long-range bombers and its ability to reload submarines with weapons make it hugely important to the U.S and the U.K.  

But that only came about by a brutal history.   

Although Diego Garcia had no indigenous population, enslaved people were brought there to work on coconut plantations, and over several centuries developed their own language and culture. In the 1960s, the Brits decided to kick them out. In order to develop the military base, they forcibly evicted all of the local population to Mauritius and the Seychelles.   

For decades since, Mauritius has fought for the island and its surrounding archipelago. Chaggosians, as people from the Chaggos Islands are known, have fought to return to their home.   

But I’ve always assumed I would never be able to go. The island is rumoured to be a CIA black site. According to a recent BBC report, only three journalists have ever visited. One pretended to have a boat problem and was only there for an hour and half. Another stopped to refuel in a Presidential plane. The most recent visitor had to agree to incredible restrictions on her reporting, was barred from numerous areas and accompanied by minders at all times.  

But yesterday came news from Diego Garcia. After years of terse negotiations and an ongoing legal dispute regarding a group of Tamil asylum seekers being detained on the island, the U.K and Mauritius announced sovereignty of Diego Garcia and the other Chaggos Islands will be passed to Mauritius.   

Will it mean the Chagossians can return? Probably not. Under the deal, the long-range bombers, submarines, and the base will remain for at least the next century.   

Its official status might have changed, but for those of us who trace the atoll across the World on our office wall, Diego Gacia will be no more accessible, and no less mysterious.