Feeling the ‘leve-leve’
Jeremy Jowell follows the local maxim and takes it easy on São Tomé & Príncipe
THE late-afternoon light casts a warm glow across the pastel-coloured buildings. Strolling the streets, I stop at the market where women are hawking fish and vegetables from small wooden tables. Big barracuda and piles of silver flying fish are on display, along with an assortment of fruit and vegetables, charcoal, clothing, coconuts, flip-flops and live chickens. In one aisle, a man peddles pairs of frilly panties next to a woman chopping up pieces of fly-infested red meat.
I stop at the bank to change some dollars for dobras and am an instant millionaire.
“Hallo amigo, you can take my picture,” says a man. “My name is Pedro and I am a Chelsea soccer fan. You are welcome in São Tomé.”
Not many people seem to know where São Tomé & Príncipe is. In fact, many I speak to have never heard of this island nation, 250km off the coast of Gabon in the Gulf of Guinea.
With a population of 188 000, it is the second-smallest country in Africa. But the attractions for adventurous travellers are numerous. Rainforests and mountains offer great hiking opportunities. Anglers come from across the globe for big-game fishing and old colonial plantations dating back to the cocoa heydays are great for exploring. Tropical
Life here is peaceful, everything happens slowly
beaches and good scuba-diving sites just add to its allure.
I based myself at Omali Lodge, a luxury resort just a few kilometres out of town.
Santomeans seem to make an early start to their day — motorbikes speed along the streets, women balance parcels on their heads and men stride along the beach for morning exercise.
I get chatting to three boys bathing their puppies in the ocean. “When I finish school I want to be a doctor so I can help sick people be better,” says 11-year-old Gramilson da Silva.
Propoala Diega wants to be an electronic engineer and his friend Fabio Luiz da Silva plans to study mechanical engineering.
“Life here on São Tomé is peaceful, very leve-leve, everything happens slowly slowly,” Fabio tells me with a languid smile.
Leaving the town, the shuttle bus passes through the small fishing village of Pantufo. A boat has just returned and a crowd of excited women and children stand in the surf, loading fish into buckets.
I spend a night at Roça São João, a working coffee and cocoa plantation where I enjoy a feast conjured up by owner and TV food presenter, João Carlos Silva.
It’s clear that Silva is a master of his craft as he moves busily from one stove to another. “This bowl is marlin chunks soaked in lemon
juice, which I serve with passion fruit and fried bananas. It’s delicious, try some.” I bite into the juicy marlin morsel and look forward to the feast to come.
After lunch, I take a short hike to see the plantations. Two men walk towards me carrying canisters full of a white, frothy liquid. “Vino de palm, good to drink,” they smile.
A crazed cockerel wakes me the next day before dawn. Two distant dogs add to the cacophony. Sleep is now impossible so I sit on the wraparound verandah watching the sky turn pink. Two early risers walk along the road with water buckets on their heads.
After travelling back to town, my guide Nilton Paquete fetches me for a day trip to the northern part of the island. Nilton has a girlfriend, two daughters and big plans.
“My dream was to become a singer and my friend told me that if I sang in English I could make more money. So I learnt the language, but instead of becoming a singer I became an English teacher. Now I also work as a guide showing tourists our island. My dream is to open a restaurant and a travel agency.”
We enter the savannah landscape of open plains and small baobabs, tamarinds and acacia trees. At the tranquil bay of Lagoa Azul, we stop for a snorkel before continuing along the narrow coastal road to the fishing village of Neves. Next stop is Anambõ, where the Portuguese explorers, Pedro Escobar and João de Santarem first set foot on São Tomé in 1470.
Nilton also shows us the estate of Monte Café, which, in the early 1900s, was the largest producing coffee plantation on the island.
I end my journey with a few relaxing days on Príncipe, São Tomé’s sister island, 160km to the north. Príncipe is small and has few tourists. But South African billionaire Mark Shuttleworth has recently invested in the area. He bought the upmarket Bom Bom Resort in 2011, has plans to redevelop rundown plantations and has committed to other sustainability projects on the island.
“He’s a very good man,” says João Katarina, steering me along a bumpy road past cocoa plantations and fields of banana trees. “Meester Mark is making jobs for a lot of people and helps with our forests and agriculture.”
In addition to Bom Bom, Shuttleworth’s company is building two new luxury lodges and assisting in the country’s education system by bringing in teachers from South Africa and Portugal.
Another project he has undertaken is lengthening the airport runway. “When it’s finished, more airplanes will be able to land bringing more tourists, which is good for our people,” says João.
We’ve arrived at the fishermen’s village of Praia Abade. Smiling men wave as they heave their wooden canoe ashore filled with fish and a bucket of octopus.
“I caught the fish at 20 metres down using my spear gun,” the captain tells me, with João translating.
Santo António is the capital of Príncipe and a pleasant place to wander, admiring the faded architecture and chatting to locals.
Lazy goats and good-natured dogs scavenge around the pavements while motorcycles zip up and down the roads. The small stalls at the market sell everything from locks, ceramics, plugs and crockery to T-shirts, shoes and hair extensions — the usual assortment of goods one invariably finds in an African market.
“Hallo senor, good afternoon,” one shopkeeper greets me, and I’m surprised to hear some English. “I’m from Nigeria, my name is Edwin Onwudiwe. I have lived in Príncipe for 15 years and bring in goods from Nigeria — tools, combs, soccer balls, umbrellas, machine parts, DVD players and tape measures. Business is good.”
On my last morning, I visit the cocoa plantation of Bel Monte, currently being renovated into a new hotel for its Dutch owners. I get chatting to one of the workers, Zimbabwean Henry Cronje.
“I’ve been here for 20 months and have fallen in love with this country. The people are so friendly and it’s a great way of life, their laid-back leve-leve attitude. I’ve even bought a house in Santo António.”
“How long do you plan on staying?” I ask.
“For the rest of my life,” Henry smiles. — © Jeremy Jowell