Comoros again: trip report
Well, I still feel a bit lonely about this destination—no requests for info, no travel journals, or trip reports since I last posted over a year ago. A little disheartening.
That said, I did cross paths with slightly more tourists this time. Not a ton, but enough to notice compared to my last stay. Beyond that, not much has changed—the people are just as lovely, and every interaction, whether at the market, in the medinas, in town, or in the countryside, was positive. It was so pleasant; my "alert meter" stayed at zero the whole time (which is pretty different from some other places I visit now and then). The roads outside the cities remain dangerous, and the accident rate seems high. Best to drive during the day and take it easy (on some rough stretches, you don’t really have a choice anyway). The scattered plastic and metal waste hasn’t magically disappeared, and it’s still pretty discouraging to see the most beautiful beaches surrounded by empty bottles, straws, diapers, and rusted carcasses of an old Xantia or a skeletal Espace. When it’s not on the beach itself (since those are cleaned), it’s just a few meters away. Usually, there’s not much in the water or close to shore—the seabeds are gorgeous, with coral and a wide variety of scaly friends... But stepping back onto the hardened lava, you dodge a chip bag or a shriveled battery. Such a paradox. Honestly, it’s like this almost everywhere except on hotel beaches or those far from human settlements. But otherwise, in places like Chomoni, Bouni, Itsandra, Moya, and Domoni (on Anjouan), Nioumachoua (on Mohéli, and even on the nearby islets), it’s hard to ignore. And it unfortunately tarnishes the beauty of these otherwise stunning spots.
That said, you can still find secluded micro-bays, protected and remote, where this isn’t an issue. And where there are hotels—like in Petite Itsandra in Moroni, in front of Laka Lodge in Nioumachoua, Trou du Prophète, or even Chomoni (though the surrounding areas are so littered...)—the beaches are cleaned, so...
So why go? Why still love it despite all this? Well, first, the Comorians themselves—that’s already essential and probably the main reason. Then there’s the breathtaking topography: the imposing Karthala, the dizzying peaks and cliffs of Anjouan, vast ravines, a tortured geology covered in lush nature, and Mohéli, much more serene and gentle, blanketed in spice plants and trees with names that make you dream, like an open-air spice market. The flora across the islands—the fields, trees, scents: clove trees, cinnamon trees, lychee, mango, cardamom, nutmeg, vanilla, coconut palms, banana trees, coffee plants, cocoa... A profusion of green dotted with red, white, and yellow berries and flowers... The seabeds are stunning in many places, and there are some beautiful beaches/oceanfront spots, especially near Trou du Prophète (but not only there). The history and culture—between traditional festivals, but especially the medinas with their staircases, covered passages, palaces, and mosques that create Escher-like constructions. I love wandering through them for hours, stumbling upon an unlikely shop, a more or less philosophical saying like "pain is a warning," "a promise is a debt," or the less original "little by little, the bird makes its nest." A grocery store, women negotiating freshly caught fish (usually tuna, immediately cut and ready to sell), kids playing, old men playing checkers, a call to prayer... In Moroni, Mutsamudu, and Domoni, I spent most of my "urban" time.
If anyone’s interested—though given the hype about Comoros on the forum, I doubt it—but if you need info on accommodation across the three islands, some restaurants, or sites to visit, don’t hesitate to ask.
This message is another message in a bottle (one more, if I dare...) for the Comoros destination.
That said, I did cross paths with slightly more tourists this time. Not a ton, but enough to notice compared to my last stay. Beyond that, not much has changed—the people are just as lovely, and every interaction, whether at the market, in the medinas, in town, or in the countryside, was positive. It was so pleasant; my "alert meter" stayed at zero the whole time (which is pretty different from some other places I visit now and then). The roads outside the cities remain dangerous, and the accident rate seems high. Best to drive during the day and take it easy (on some rough stretches, you don’t really have a choice anyway). The scattered plastic and metal waste hasn’t magically disappeared, and it’s still pretty discouraging to see the most beautiful beaches surrounded by empty bottles, straws, diapers, and rusted carcasses of an old Xantia or a skeletal Espace. When it’s not on the beach itself (since those are cleaned), it’s just a few meters away. Usually, there’s not much in the water or close to shore—the seabeds are gorgeous, with coral and a wide variety of scaly friends... But stepping back onto the hardened lava, you dodge a chip bag or a shriveled battery. Such a paradox. Honestly, it’s like this almost everywhere except on hotel beaches or those far from human settlements. But otherwise, in places like Chomoni, Bouni, Itsandra, Moya, and Domoni (on Anjouan), Nioumachoua (on Mohéli, and even on the nearby islets), it’s hard to ignore. And it unfortunately tarnishes the beauty of these otherwise stunning spots.
That said, you can still find secluded micro-bays, protected and remote, where this isn’t an issue. And where there are hotels—like in Petite Itsandra in Moroni, in front of Laka Lodge in Nioumachoua, Trou du Prophète, or even Chomoni (though the surrounding areas are so littered...)—the beaches are cleaned, so...
So why go? Why still love it despite all this? Well, first, the Comorians themselves—that’s already essential and probably the main reason. Then there’s the breathtaking topography: the imposing Karthala, the dizzying peaks and cliffs of Anjouan, vast ravines, a tortured geology covered in lush nature, and Mohéli, much more serene and gentle, blanketed in spice plants and trees with names that make you dream, like an open-air spice market. The flora across the islands—the fields, trees, scents: clove trees, cinnamon trees, lychee, mango, cardamom, nutmeg, vanilla, coconut palms, banana trees, coffee plants, cocoa... A profusion of green dotted with red, white, and yellow berries and flowers... The seabeds are stunning in many places, and there are some beautiful beaches/oceanfront spots, especially near Trou du Prophète (but not only there). The history and culture—between traditional festivals, but especially the medinas with their staircases, covered passages, palaces, and mosques that create Escher-like constructions. I love wandering through them for hours, stumbling upon an unlikely shop, a more or less philosophical saying like "pain is a warning," "a promise is a debt," or the less original "little by little, the bird makes its nest." A grocery store, women negotiating freshly caught fish (usually tuna, immediately cut and ready to sell), kids playing, old men playing checkers, a call to prayer... In Moroni, Mutsamudu, and Domoni, I spent most of my "urban" time.
If anyone’s interested—though given the hype about Comoros on the forum, I doubt it—but if you need info on accommodation across the three islands, some restaurants, or sites to visit, don’t hesitate to ask.
This message is another message in a bottle (one more, if I dare...) for the Comoros destination.