by For travelers, their desire to “discover destinations that are not related to content” is exactly that; desire But in 2019, I set out to explore a group of 88 islands and islands in the Atlantic that few have heard of: the Bissagos archipelago.
New to cruise itineraries, it was one of the most exciting places I’ve been – a rare pre-packaged excursion today. But then Covid hit, itineraries were suspended, and the Bissagos returned to obscurity. Five years later, the sun is shining again on the islands, with French cruise line Ponant returning to this remote spot next year – its luxury ships are one of the few ways to visit bring comfortably and safely.
A UNESCO biosphere reserve since 1996, this 5,000 square mile area is protected from tourism due to its inaccessibility, lack of infrastructure and transportation, and the turbulent political situation facing Guinea-Bissau – one of the poorest countries in the world – since then. it gained independence from Portugal in the 1970s. Also spelled Bijagós (which means “perfect people”), there are only 23 inhabited islands – and not only is the permission of the islanders needed to land, but some of the islands, which is considered sacred, completely profound.
Accompanied by dolphins, we sailed at night, by the side of the archipelago to avoid rocks and sandbanks in the infamous shallows, 19th-navigation charts of the century – the only ones that exist – serving us well. In the morning, scouts proceeded to test the lie of the land, and ready for our coming in with the islanders.
But Paradise, as Eve would have it, is without its trappings. “In the jungle, you must always stick to the paths,” our tour leader emphasized at every briefing. “There are mambas in the trees, and the horned vipers in the shade of the grasses. And, depending on the tides, you might have to go ashore for half an hour – watch out for the stingrays.” Not to mention the bull sharks that swim – so tempting, from the sandy beaches – is recommended, but only in designated areas.
We ran through the Savannah lined with acacia trees, followed footprints, and waded through leech-infested waters to see the famous saltwater hippos. In the dry season, they occupy the mangrove swamps; We found them in a crocodile-infested lake, nibbling water lilies.
Despite the rich biodiversity of the Bissagos, the interest of these islands is its human population of 30,000. It is a hierarchical society based on age-related class groups and everyone must progress through a series of provocative initiation rites.
To reach the villages of mud and thatch huts, we passed through sun-dappled forests of thick fern, palm, mango, cashew and kapok trees; slash and burn clearing pass where crops are rotated; the Zodiac sailed through wonderful, ever-narrowing mangrove channels – bird heaven – where children played, diving out of dug-out canoes.
On the island of Carache, we followed the sound of the drums, and found Nathalie, queen and priestess of her 100-day community. She was waiting for us, a statue in her colorful scarf and toga of dried palm leaves, sitting with two female elders on a fallen tree trunk, a small boy sifting bright orange palm nuts at his feet. They were surrounded by rice paddies. Nathalie led us to where a group of youths had gathered, draped and crowned in foliage, with shell anklets. They started dancing and it was like the paddies had come to life.
Although there are differences between the two islands in the customs and the local Bidyogo language, the dance was a common element of our greeting in each village and is an important element of the initiative. Rhythmic, energetic, elemental performances by young men and women dressed in zoomorphic headphones.
Bolama, the closest island to the mainland and, from the 1870s to the 1940s, the capital of Portuguese Guinea, offered a very different experience. “Brancos! Branco!” [“White people!”] yelled a little boy as we disembarked and made our way past colorful wooden pirogues – the only way to reach the islands from the mainland – and fishermen mending nets the old fashioned way, bent tight on their toes big. For one thing, Bolama has handsome stone houses – the legacy of competing British and Portuguese colonialists – now decaying and roofless, melancholy ruins. Here, I saw my first signs of commerce: powerful blue “cashew wine” barrels, bound for the mainland; and a shop, empty but for a single loo that sat in the middle of the room, like a throne. “They won’t sell,” said Laurent, our guide, “no one uses them!”
The governor was waiting outside his residence – another handsome ruin with a balcony. He thanked us for coming – “the first cruise ship,” he said. There were speeches, and then, again, dancing. It was, perhaps, my favorite shows of all: young boys, caked in mud and kitted out with spears, like fearsome warriors with, instead of gourds, empty Coca-Cola cans strung incongruously around their waists.
Walking through the town, I was surprised to find both a Catholic and a Protestant church. “Some people convert to Christianity to escape the hardships of initiation,” Laurent said. “But they all remain animators, at heart.”
Losing, Bolama was a great bridge between two worlds. And it was the closest I got all week to “civilization” as we know it.
The next eight nights “Adventures in the Bissagos Islands” are on board Le Lyrial, departing Dakar on 7 April 2025. Prices from €5,490 per person, excluding flights. www.ponant.com
