São Tomé and Príncipe > Boating Through the Mangroves

Today we are going on a boat trip through the mangroves. A small minibus takes us to the river mouth. Since there is not enough room for everyone at once, the driver makes two trips. I join the first one at 9:00 a.m., giving me some time to walk along the beach at the river mouth. It is low tide. Everywhere I look, the sand is dotted with crab holes, ranging from tiny openings to burrows about five centimetres across. Gentle waves wash seawater over the rocks, and the ocean is calm. Once the second group has arrived, we board two small boats. The boatmen are brothers. They tell us they are 82 and 83 years old, although they admit there are no birth certificates to prove it, so they are not entirely sure. While they certainly look elderly, I suspect they have overestimated their ages a little. Using only paddles, they propel the boats quietly along the river and through the mangroves. The tangled aerial roots create beautiful natural sculptures along the banks. Although we can hear plenty of birds, they remain mostly hidden from view. Tiny mudskipper fish dart through the shallow water. A cormorant flies overhead, while kites circle high above us and a startled heron takes flight.

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When one of the boatmen pushes our boat into a narrower channel, we spot several small kingfishers perched among the branches. To our surprise, one of them remains still long enough for everyone to admire it. As we approach the landing stage again, three monkeys leap effortlessly from tree to tree. We have not seen many monkeys during our time on the island, making this a pleasant surprise. After the boat trip, the group splits up. Some return to the resort by minibus, while a few fellow travellers and I decide to walk back, taking the opportunity to visit the fishing village of Porto Alegre. Until now, I had only seen the village after dark. Fishermen are repairing their nets on the pier. Mustafa tells us that this was once a colonial Portuguese harbour. Today, only small fishing boats remain. I buy a small bag of fried banana chips from a girl by the roadside. To my surprise, it costs only five dobras—about twenty euro cents. Rather than asking for change from my twenty-dobra note, I buy four bags instead and share them with my fellow travellers. I soon give away my own bag as well.

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A little farther along the road sits a disabled man. I think he can make better use of it than I can, and he gratefully accepts it. We continue walking along the coast, passing the former Portuguese military camp. Families now live in the old colonial buildings. Once again, I wonder how much longer they will remain standing, as many of them are in a serious state of disrepair. At a small shop, I buy a can of soft drink. The price for two cans is not entirely clear. Eventually, the elderly shopkeeper waves her hand, indicating that my fifty-dobra note is sufficient. The total was probably fifty-five dobras, but neither of us has any small change. We continue towards the resort along the rough road. Walking is probably just as fast as driving here. Before returning, we continue on to Praia Piscina. We have the entire beach to ourselves. The wind has created sizeable waves, but we still venture into the sheltered bay, keeping well away from the rocks where seawater crashes high into the air. From the small parking area above the beach, we finally understand why it is called Praia Piscina ("Swimming Pool Beach").

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At the far left side, a natural rock pool is protected from the ocean by surrounding rocks—an idyllic place for a peaceful swim. Unfortunately, we only notice it afterwards. On the opposite side, another small pool lies against the dramatic backdrop of the wild Atlantic Ocean. I briefly step into this natural pool but climb out just in time before a large wave washes over the rocks. About a hundred metres farther south lies Buraco do Pablo, a deep sinkhole where seawater surges in and out with every wave. The surrounding rock walls rise at least five metres high. I keep a safe distance from the edge, as the cliffs may be unstable. From Praia Piscina, we walk back to our resort, allowing the warm breeze to dry us along the way. In the evening, there is an opportunity to have dinner at a local restaurant on the beach, which sounds appealing. Unfortunately, Constantine is unable to reach the restaurant to confirm our reservation, so I simply eat at the resort restaurant instead. I choose squid with vegetables and fries. It tastes much better than the buffet we had on our first evening.