At the edge of Africa, in São Tomé and Príncipe

 

At both Bom Bom and Sundy Praia, each vastly different from the other, I indulge in the rare sensation of unhurried time that defines Principe. Bom Bom is a modest resort on the northern shore, recently refurbished, perched between two gorgeous beaches where I love to stroll during majestic sunsets. Sundy Praia, on the other hand, is HBD’s flagship property—featuring 15 luxury tents nestled among the trees along the shoreline. No matter where I am, life here unfolds at a slower, more deliberate pace. In São Tomé, the common phrase is “leve-leve”—meaning “slowly, slowly”—to encourage a relaxed approach to life. In Principe, I embrace the locals’ “móle-móle,” a pace so gentle that even “slowly, slowly” can feel hurried. There is rarely a need to do much; simply waking up to the songs of rare birds is an experience in itself. As one of the waiters at Bom Bom tells me, “Because time stands still here.” Móle-móle has clearly got to her. My eagerness to explore every corner of the island clashes with this leisurely rhythm, prompting me to adjust my expectations and take it easy.

 

I am traveling with my husband and our three-year-old twin girls, who bravely accompany every adventure we undertake. They endure rainstorms, rugged terrain, and seem to adapt effortlessly to the island’s raw nature. During our stay in Principe, we set out on motorized canoe trips to explore the surroundings. Heading west from Bom Bom, we follow the island’s rugged contours, passing lush jungles within the Principe Biosphere Reserve. Coastal fishing villages line our route as we approach Baía das Agulhas, or Bay of Needles—a striking cluster of towering phonolite lava formations, punctuated by coves and jagged volcanic spikes rising nearly 1,000 meters above sea level. Cloaked in dense primary rainforest, these peaks loom eerily, their summits swirling with mist, creating an almost mystical atmosphere.

 

Another day, we venture along the coast, traveling west and south past pristine beaches like Praia Banana and Praia Boi—turquoise waters, swaying palms, and utter solitude, accessible only by boat. Our skipper spots a humpback whale, sparking hopes of a close encounter and sending us further out into the ocean. Our little girls remain alert and excited, scanning the horizon for any splash. Though the whale remains elusive, a reminder of the unpredictable dance of nature. On land, we hike through the island’s wild heart in the lush forests of Parque Natural do Príncipe, where we trek to Oquê Pipi, the largest waterfall on the island, in an area rich in endemic plant and bird species. We also visit Ribeira Izé, the ruins of a plantation hidden deep in the forest, now overtaken by palm, oca, and almond trees.

 

Most days, it rains at least once, adding to Príncipe’s lush, enchanting atmosphere. Príncipe is not a destination for everyone; it appeals to the more adventurous traveler. We encounter mostly NGO workers, researchers, and expatriates from neighboring African countries who share a similar thirst for exploration.  We set off to explore Principe’s virgin jungles, but we also join the Sunday mass in the town of Santo Antonio to witness a vibrant spectacle of song and prayer. Without much introduction, my children play and watch the mass alongside the local kids as if they were part of the community. Families gather in colorful dresses and intricate headpieces, men in their finest attire. It feels like immersing ourselves in a swirling chorus of devotion, with dogs wandering in to nap beneath the high altar. In these moments, I feel a profound connection with the islanders—one that transcends our shared language, rooted in a mutual reverence for Principe’s beauty and spirit.