by A little context is needed to explain why my holiday in the Comoros Islands was the best ever.
Back in 1975 the four Comorian islands, located between Zanzibar and Madagascar, had a decision to make regarding surrendering to French rule. Mayotte stuck with France, but three of them, Grande Comore, Anjouan, and Mohéli, opted for ‘Comexit’ and formed the independent Union of Comoros.
It was not very successful. Post-independence Comoros has been plagued by political turmoil (with over 20 coups or attempted coups in 50 years) and economic malaise. Every year thousands of Comorians, seeking a better future, arrive in Mayotte, ergo France, in dangerous small boat crossings and in recent months the influx has inspired massive protests in Mayotte as its economy feels the pressure.
Still, I’m a sucker for far away places so I tackled the emigration trend to join a moderate influx of tourists. Jim O’Brien, founder of tour operator Native Eye, sends around 40 guests each year. “It’s for those who like their travel as far off the beaten track as it gets,” said O’Brien, who described the Comoros as “low-key Zanzibar”.
The alluring promise of East African Swahili culture and spice trading history certainly had me salivating. Dubbed the ‘Perfume Islands’ because of its trade in nutmeg and cloves, tenth century Arab traders had another sobriquet – ‘Perfume Islands’. Qamar (the moon)’, because of its lunar volcanic landscapes. Arriving in Grande Comore, the largest island, my flight from Paris passed the 7,800 foot high mountain volcano Mount Karthala before landing.
I clung to romantic ideals even after an unpromising drive from the airport, crossing a wasteland of lava and unfinished buildings, into the capital city of Moroni, whose beach held a million times more discreet plastic than a woodburner.
The centerpiece of Moroni’s architecture is the 15 glowingthThe Old Friday Mosque of the last century, which wraps around a lava promontory like a fancy wedding cake. I looked at ankle length worshippers domestication robes flow from morning prayer. Abdur-Rahman, an elderly English speaker, invited me for cardamom-spiced coffee in the cramped maze on the hillside, just behind the mosque. “Our country is poor – the problem is that politicians spend everything,” he told me. In 2018, the long-time incumbent, President Assoumani, tinkered with the constitution so that he could remain in office over two terms. He recently retained power, in the January 2024 election.
The nightlife hardly shakes its stuff, but I found a sunny favorite, a beach bar at Itsandra with a wooden deck selling French beer and grilled tuna brochettes. It was a short taxi ride from my beachside hotel, Golden Tulip, which was quite pleasant. My huge windows offered no privacy, but great panoramic sea views.
Outside Moroni, it wasn’t easy to get around, so I hired Mohammed Yahya’s taxi for €55 and he drove me around the baobab-studded north. At Lac Salé, a preternaturally green lake fills a volcanic vent, which Mohammed insisted was bottomless.
Meanwhile Mount Karthala is only accessible on foot. My guided journey to its crater was a 13-hour return trip, departing with the first flame and returning on jelly-foot to the sunset in the blood-red Indian Ocean. But it was great. Above a cloud forest the crater appears as a scorched plain of chocolate volcanic gravel; the hissing fumaroles and hazy sulfur dioxide hinted that the 2007 Karthala eruption will not be the last.
The next day I planned to fly to Mohéli, the most naturally beautiful of the three islands in the Comoros, with creamy white sandy beaches and a rainforest backdrop. I was drooling over pictures of a swanky seaside resort, which I had booked, next to a turtle nesting beach. Paradise, I imagine.
Then all the internal flights in Comoros were canceled for no apparent reason other than political shenanigans. I went down to the harbor to see about a boat, but the armada of it kwasa-kwasa it looked far from the sea and I heard that there were many migrants trying to reach Mayotte in them after losing their lives.
Frustrated, I boarded a regular ferry to Anjouan Island. The IS Gombessa he sat in port for hours and every scintilla of space filled, and then groaned in protest as he slowly chugs to Anjouan, arriving at the darkness of a park in Mutsamudu City. My accommodation, the jaded Al-Almal Hotel, at least had good views of fruit-bats the size of pterodactyls crashing around the shore trees.
Joie de vivre was restored the next morning after a local baguette and coffee, and I contacted one of the few Anjouan guides. “Welcome to the spice island,” said Patrice Kalde, who took me on a trip that floated until his vehicle broke down. The Anjouan highlands are fragrant with coconut, vanilla, and cloves, and a small distillery loads bundles of scented ylang-ylang petals into an ancient-looking wooden tank. “The essence goes to France to be used in Chanel No 5,” Kalde said.
Nearby, an impressive mosque-like marble tomb is dedicated to former President Abdallah. He seized power through a coup but was assassinated in 1989. He must have been very popular at this mausoleum, I suggested. “Not at all. He didn’t take anything, he didn’t create any jobs, and everyone remained poor except him,” answered Kalde, as he resigned.
Soon after, I bid the Comoros adieu and flew to Mayotte. International flights were operating. It was like traveling 50 years into the future. Modern boutiques, pleasant cafes selling all kinds of viennoiserie, clean swimming beaches, and in the lushly green mountains around Sangoro Mbili, I saw lemurs. Madame le Guillou, a French expat, served a homemade preserve breakfast at her bijou forest hideaway, Le Relais Forestier. This was my first cockroach free night in two weeks.
If I were to go again, I would go on a tour to get around the frustrations in a country better suited to adventurous backpackers and the patience of Job. Jim O’Brien told me that his August tour is fully booked, so he is doing another tour later this year. Comoros has potential, you just need a little local help to unlock it.
Native Eye’s nine-day ‘Comoros: Islands of the Moon’ tour costs £1,775pp excluding flights. His next event is October 21st (www.nativeeyetravel.com)
