sao tome & principe
By Ed Placidi. Ed Placidi is a freelance travel/food writer and photographer who discovered his passion for exploring the world as a teenager and has gone on to travel ‒ mainly on solo, independent adventures ‒ in 107 countries (so far). He has penned articles for numerous newspapers, magazines and websites. When not traveling he is whipping up delicious dishes inspired by his Tuscan grandmother with as many ingredients as possible coming from his organic vegetable and herb garden.
Caught in a tropical downpour I sought refuge under the limbs of a breadfruit tree. I was still there an hour later when suddenly my patience was rewarded: I saw the bird I most wanted to see, a spectacular blue-and-orange Malachite Kingfisher. Moments later, it dove kamikaze-style into the water, snatched a small fish and was gone.
It was a metaphor for Saó Tomé and Príncipe, where each day is filled with fleeting moments of eye-popping joy.
This two-island African nation, anchored on the equator in the Atlantic Ocean some 150 miles west of Gabon, is in many ways an anomaly. Never part of the African continent, Saó Tomé and Príncipe evolved in isolation resulting in a no large animals or rodents and an exceptional level of endemic plant and bird species – becoming a living laboratory for scientists. There were not even any inhabitants when discovered circa 1470 by the Portuguese; today’s Saó Toméans are descendants of slaves, and later contract workers, brought from other Portuguese colonies to work on the plantations. Though one of the planet’s smallest countries, at the end of the 19th century it was the world’s biggest cacao producer.
Today, this poor, undeveloped, remote nation is a birder’s paradise, covered in dense emerald green forest with a kaleidoscope of exotic flowers and soaring tropical trees, dotted with dramatic towering rock needles shrouded in mist, and graced with idyllic powdery sand beaches and sparkling clean, warm sea teeming with marine life. The entire island of Príncipe has been designated a Biosphere Reserve by UNESCO.
It was a metaphor for Saó Tomé and Príncipe, where each day is filled with fleeting moments of eye-popping joy.
This two-island African nation, anchored on the equator in the Atlantic Ocean some 150 miles west of Gabon, is in many ways an anomaly. Never part of the African continent, Saó Tomé and Príncipe evolved in isolation resulting in a no large animals or rodents and an exceptional level of endemic plant and bird species – becoming a living laboratory for scientists. There were not even any inhabitants when discovered circa 1470 by the Portuguese; today’s Saó Toméans are descendants of slaves, and later contract workers, brought from other Portuguese colonies to work on the plantations. Though one of the planet’s smallest countries, at the end of the 19th century it was the world’s biggest cacao producer.
Today, this poor, undeveloped, remote nation is a birder’s paradise, covered in dense emerald green forest with a kaleidoscope of exotic flowers and soaring tropical trees, dotted with dramatic towering rock needles shrouded in mist, and graced with idyllic powdery sand beaches and sparkling clean, warm sea teeming with marine life. The entire island of Príncipe has been designated a Biosphere Reserve by UNESCO.
It is this exceptional natural heritage, coupled with the atmospheric though soul-searching legacy of the colonial plantations, that lures a small number of visitors annually to these welcoming islands where many called out “Bon Dia” or gave me a thumbs up as they passed by.
Distances are short on both islands, but with the limited local transportation, and just a few miles of paved roads (most are rocky, rutted, red-dirt tracks with few signs), the only touring options are rent a 4X4 and explore on your own or, preferably to really get to the heart of the place, hire a guide. Everyone speaks Portuguese but English is rare; I communicated with guides mostly in Spanish.
Small but bustling Saó Tomé is a breezy, friendly, ramshackle but very safe city washed in a palette of pastel colors with a long oceanfront boardwalk, many Portuguese colonial buildings, a 446-year-old Portuguese fort guarding the bay, large colorful markets, and many bars and restaurants. I sampled such local dishes as delicious bean and fish Feijoada stew and Calulú, an historic dish created by slaves with herbs and medicinal plants to boost their health.
The true national dish, however, is fresh fish ‒ generally marinated in white vinegar or lemon and grilled. The abundance of the local Atlantic waters means fish is on every restaurant menu, and often the only menu item, served with rice and either fried bananas, sweet potato fries or breadfruit.
Distances are short on both islands, but with the limited local transportation, and just a few miles of paved roads (most are rocky, rutted, red-dirt tracks with few signs), the only touring options are rent a 4X4 and explore on your own or, preferably to really get to the heart of the place, hire a guide. Everyone speaks Portuguese but English is rare; I communicated with guides mostly in Spanish.
Small but bustling Saó Tomé is a breezy, friendly, ramshackle but very safe city washed in a palette of pastel colors with a long oceanfront boardwalk, many Portuguese colonial buildings, a 446-year-old Portuguese fort guarding the bay, large colorful markets, and many bars and restaurants. I sampled such local dishes as delicious bean and fish Feijoada stew and Calulú, an historic dish created by slaves with herbs and medicinal plants to boost their health.
The true national dish, however, is fresh fish ‒ generally marinated in white vinegar or lemon and grilled. The abundance of the local Atlantic waters means fish is on every restaurant menu, and often the only menu item, served with rice and either fried bananas, sweet potato fries or breadfruit.
Setting out for the Equator ‒ where we would stand with one foot in each hemisphere – the route was lined with plantings of sugar cane, banana and cacao, with lush forest beyond, while the towns were mere strings of rickety wooden dwellings in bright primary colors. At Boca del Inferno (Mouth of Hell) we watched waves careen at high speed up a tongue-like channel in jagged black-basalt rock and hurl foaming white water into the air. The first glimpse of the islands’ many phonolitic volcanic plugs – phallic natural skyscrapers rising straight up from the forest floor ‒ was 2,175- foot Pico Cão Grande (Big Dog Peak). With steamy haze always blanketing the shadowy summit, the imagination runs wild with visions of lost worlds.
A launch across a channel brought us to Ilheu das Rolas (Turtledove Island), then a 20-minute hike up to the Equator Marker and an all-encompassing panorama of azure sea and the palm-fringed southern end of Saó Tomé island. Another short walk brought us to a heavenly swimming spot: Praia Café (Coffee Beach), on a small cove shaded by plane trees with soft sand, sparkling translucent aquamarine water and natural jetties on both ends of black volcanic rock.
In the savannah-like north of Saó Tomé island, where the grasslands are studded with majestic baobab trees and random bursts of the brilliant orange of flame trees, we swam in the Blue Lagoon. Actually a sheltered cove shaded by tamarind trees, the deep blue water (warm and crystal clear as always here) harbors a rock shelf ideal for exploring with mask and fins – or by divers, a group of which arrived and disappeared in the deep. Serpent eagles seemed ever-present above, gliding on the air currents.
A launch across a channel brought us to Ilheu das Rolas (Turtledove Island), then a 20-minute hike up to the Equator Marker and an all-encompassing panorama of azure sea and the palm-fringed southern end of Saó Tomé island. Another short walk brought us to a heavenly swimming spot: Praia Café (Coffee Beach), on a small cove shaded by plane trees with soft sand, sparkling translucent aquamarine water and natural jetties on both ends of black volcanic rock.
In the savannah-like north of Saó Tomé island, where the grasslands are studded with majestic baobab trees and random bursts of the brilliant orange of flame trees, we swam in the Blue Lagoon. Actually a sheltered cove shaded by tamarind trees, the deep blue water (warm and crystal clear as always here) harbors a rock shelf ideal for exploring with mask and fins – or by divers, a group of which arrived and disappeared in the deep. Serpent eagles seemed ever-present above, gliding on the air currents.
Wild black-sand beaches on the west coast were a prelude to the breath-stopping view of Praia Jeni: framed by brilliant green foliage, back dropped by tall swaying palms and royal blue sky, rows of colorful fishing boats lined the white-and-gray pebble beach with opaque turquoise waters rolling over ebony rock. Just beyond is, literally, what is known as the “end of the road”: a bridge over the river that empties into the sea here collapsed years ago during powerful rains and was never fixed. There is nothing beyond this point except for several remote villages.
The extensive system of plantations brings the history of the islands into sharp focus. The Portuguese developed the colony to grow coffee and cacao for export, using labor from Cape Verde, Angola and Mozambique. Following independence, the system collapsed. Some fell into complete ruin, others became thriving agricultural communities. Roca Agostinho Nieto, once the largest of the plantations, is a vibrant farm but the original Portuguese buildings have mostly collapsed. Working plantation Roca Diogo Vaz, with its restored grand manor house and red-tiled buildings, would not be out of place in the Portuguese countryside. Still others, particularly on Príncipe, have become the country’s premier luxury hotels.
Driving up into the verdant tropical mountains from the sunny and humid coast, the weather changed immediately to cool, misty and drizzly. This is coffee country and the town of Monte Café (Mount Coffee), redolent with the aroma of java, is an historic spot where the Portuguese first planted coffee around 1800, and then cacao circa 20 years later. The original buildings are still standing but long forgotten and a fascinating coffee museum is highlighted by the large bean-processing machine imported from a Buffalo, New York manufacturer at the turn of the 20th century.
This is also hiking country. The trek to São Nicolau waterfall traverses a lush and wet primary forest resounding with a concert of bird calls. Damp earthiness filling nostrils, the path is crossed by streams and punctuated with many colorful blossoms, stands of bamboo and soaring fig and ceiba trees with their fantastic buttress root systems. The two-hour steep trek to the volcanic crater of Lagoa Amelia was a botany lesson with guide Francisco: we sniffed extraordinary fragrant blossoms, sampled wild raspberries and avocado, and learned about many medicinal plants such as a bark that’s a natural mosquito repellent. Rimmed by towering trees and giant begonia bushes, the crater floor gives you pause: spongey, squishy and wet, your shoes sinking in, it’s like walking in a suspended reality. There is about two feet of damp earth held together by plant roots and below that some 24 feet of water ‒ making you wonder if you’re going to fall through and drown.
This is also hiking country. The trek to São Nicolau waterfall traverses a lush and wet primary forest resounding with a concert of bird calls. Damp earthiness filling nostrils, the path is crossed by streams and punctuated with many colorful blossoms, stands of bamboo and soaring fig and ceiba trees with their fantastic buttress root systems. The two-hour steep trek to the volcanic crater of Lagoa Amelia was a botany lesson with guide Francisco: we sniffed extraordinary fragrant blossoms, sampled wild raspberries and avocado, and learned about many medicinal plants such as a bark that’s a natural mosquito repellent. Rimmed by towering trees and giant begonia bushes, the crater floor gives you pause: spongey, squishy and wet, your shoes sinking in, it’s like walking in a suspended reality. There is about two feet of damp earth held together by plant roots and below that some 24 feet of water ‒ making you wonder if you’re going to fall through and drown.
Approaching Príncipe, the “Green Island,” by air it looms as a mysterious, forbidding place with brooding silhouettes of jagged coastline and projectile pinnacles veiled by dark clouds and haze. But once on the ground, and imagination turns off, it’s a bright, colorful and happy island ‒ with extraordinary flora, fauna and natural beauty. Over and over again, there’s a sudden panorama so stunning that your hand automatically goes to your heart.
Santo Antonio, the capital (the world’s smallest according to Guinness), is really a big convivial village ‒ a noisy and full-throated one in a shambly setting of crumbling Portuguese colonial buildings and clapboard wooden houses painted in bright hues. Music is blasting at high volume throughout the day (much of it from Cape Verde and Angola). As they walk and drive, people are continuously shouting out greetings and messages to each other, and gathering in small groups to boisterously talk and laugh.
Pass under a yellow, crenelated arch to enter the tranquil world of beautifully restored plantation Roca Bel Monte, a luxury hotel with not-to-be-missed Forever Príncipe Museum offering detailed information and colorful graphics on all things Principe from flora and fauna to history and development. Roca Sundry, arguably the most elegant hotel here, is still a working cacao plantation with a terraced restaurant with dramatic coastal views and displays of rusted farming machines and tools from the past. Popular Roca Bom Bom is another restored plantation hotel set on a powdery-white-sand, palm-fringed beach.
Praia Banana is Príncipe’s most famous beach, and from the first glance, from a bluff above the ocean, it’s obvious why: a kaleidoscope of colors from the aqua and mint waters, the dark green contours of the reef, coconut-palm covered slopes, arc of tan sand, and coal-black boulders. But more than a gorgeous sight it’s the perfect swimming spot with its sparkling clean water and perfect 78F temperature.
Santo Antonio, the capital (the world’s smallest according to Guinness), is really a big convivial village ‒ a noisy and full-throated one in a shambly setting of crumbling Portuguese colonial buildings and clapboard wooden houses painted in bright hues. Music is blasting at high volume throughout the day (much of it from Cape Verde and Angola). As they walk and drive, people are continuously shouting out greetings and messages to each other, and gathering in small groups to boisterously talk and laugh.
Pass under a yellow, crenelated arch to enter the tranquil world of beautifully restored plantation Roca Bel Monte, a luxury hotel with not-to-be-missed Forever Príncipe Museum offering detailed information and colorful graphics on all things Principe from flora and fauna to history and development. Roca Sundry, arguably the most elegant hotel here, is still a working cacao plantation with a terraced restaurant with dramatic coastal views and displays of rusted farming machines and tools from the past. Popular Roca Bom Bom is another restored plantation hotel set on a powdery-white-sand, palm-fringed beach.
Praia Banana is Príncipe’s most famous beach, and from the first glance, from a bluff above the ocean, it’s obvious why: a kaleidoscope of colors from the aqua and mint waters, the dark green contours of the reef, coconut-palm covered slopes, arc of tan sand, and coal-black boulders. But more than a gorgeous sight it’s the perfect swimming spot with its sparkling clean water and perfect 78F temperature.
A quick stop at a lookout point was jaw-dropping: a vast view of the island’s southeast coast to the Bahia das Agulhas (Bay of Needles) was a Jurassic Park-like vision of inky mountains and stone towers erupting up from dense forest, veiled in rising equatorial steam and streaked with rays of light penetrating the clouds. Another sudden heart stopper was a panorama of unique eponymous coastal formations ‒ Two Fingers Mountain and Jockey Hat Islet – juxtaposed with a forest aflame with orange flame trees.
A several hour hike in the rain forest of Obo Natural Park takes you to the ultimate natural swimming hole: Oque Pipi waterfall cascades nearly 100 feet down to a large rock pool with crystal clear, refreshing 75F water.
Climbing Pico Papagaio (Parrot Peak) is a challenging four-hour roundtrip, steep trek on a dark, wet and muddy trail under a dense rain forest canopy with a number of slippery, treacherous spots where you have to literally pull yourself up with vines and ropes (that have been attached to trees to aid hikers). But once on top, we enjoyed magnificent views of Santo Antonio and the north coast while munching on wild pineapple growing on the summit.
A several hour hike in the rain forest of Obo Natural Park takes you to the ultimate natural swimming hole: Oque Pipi waterfall cascades nearly 100 feet down to a large rock pool with crystal clear, refreshing 75F water.
Climbing Pico Papagaio (Parrot Peak) is a challenging four-hour roundtrip, steep trek on a dark, wet and muddy trail under a dense rain forest canopy with a number of slippery, treacherous spots where you have to literally pull yourself up with vines and ropes (that have been attached to trees to aid hikers). But once on top, we enjoyed magnificent views of Santo Antonio and the north coast while munching on wild pineapple growing on the summit.
The relaxed, easy-going lifestyle of Saó Tomé and Príncipe – leve leve in island speak ‒became a whirlwind of adventure, experiences, inspiring nature ‒ and of course those moments of eye-popping joy. Among my favorite moments were when I spotted enthralling endemic birds, including Twin-Tailed White Tropicbirds, the Saó Tomé Oriole, Paradise Flycatcher, parrots and pigeons of different colors, the long-tailed Fiscal and the warbler-like Saó Tomé White Eye. But the best was saved for last: that bewitching Malachite Kingfisher, a parting gift the day I was flying home.
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