This Unique African Culture Has Survived in the United States for Centuries

A language born of slavery, spoken nowhere else in the world, still echoes along the southeastern coast of the United States. From North Carolina to Florida, the Gullah Geechee communities have preserved a culture born among the descendants of people enslaved in the English colonies of North America. Their language, their cuisine, their music, and their traditions have carried forward many legacies from West and Central Africa. Today, this distinctive culture continues to be transmitted in the region’s islands and coastal communities, as the BBC notes.

A culture shaped by the isolation of the islands

The roots of the Gullah Geechee culture trace back to the 17th and 18th centuries, when Africans were relocated to the English colonies of North America and enslaved. In the coastal regions of South Carolina and Georgia, plantation owners specifically sought people from West and Central Africa for their agricultural knowledge, essential to cultivating rice, indigo, and Sea Islands cotton.

The harshness of slavery did not prevent certain African traditions from surviving. The geographic isolation of the islands and wetland areas even helped in their transmission and evolution. West African culinary techniques met locally available ingredients, giving rise to specialties such as red rice—a dish based on rice, tomatoes, spices, smoked pork, and sausage. The basket-weaving techniques brought from Africa were also adapted to the plants found in the Lowcountry.

This cultural continuity is also reflected in the language. Gullah developed as a means of communication among African populations speaking different languages and the English-speaking colonists. While its vocabulary rests largely on colonial English, certain words come from African languages. Oona, meaning “you all,” or nyam, “to eat,” are two examples.

Even the origin of the Gullah Geechee name remains uncertain. “Gullah could derive from Angola or from the Gola people of West Africa. Geechee could come from the Kissi people or from Geechee, linked to the Ogeechee River in Georgia”, explained Luana Graves Sellars, a cultural preservation expert and founder of the Lowcountry Gullah organization.

The Civil War then marked a turning point. After Union forces captured Port Royal Sound and Hilton Head Island in 1861, hundreds of people who had escaped slavery sought shelter behind the Northern lines. In 1862, the town of Mitchelville was founded on Hilton Head Island. It became the first self-governed town of freed Black people in the United States. Gradually abandoned after the war, it was largely deserted by the early 1880s before being ravaged by the Sea Islands hurricane in 1893.

A living memory, yet under threat

Two centuries after the birth of this culture, about a million people in the United States claim Gullah Geechee ancestry. Their heritage still manifests in daily practices, especially during gatherings and ceremonies.

Among its most iconic traditions is the “ring shout.” Participants form a circle, move counterclockwise, stomp their feet, clap their hands, and sing in call-and-response. For Luana Graves Sellars, this practice carries a particular force: “A ring shout has this effect. There are festive ring shouts. Religious ring shouts, ring shouts reserved for adults. But they seize your attention and almost make you want to participate”, she tells the BBC.

The language itself remains a central expression of this heritage. “To understand the Gullah Geechee language is to understand that everything we do is a form of expression”, said Sellars. Cooking also plays a central role. Rice and peas, shrimp with cornmeal mush, purloo or gumbo, continue to be staples in homes and restaurants across the region.

The Gullah Geechee legacy has enjoyed official recognition since 2006. The Gullah Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor spans roughly 804 kilometers, from North Carolina to the southern tip of Florida. On October 12, 2026, it will celebrate the 20th anniversary of its designation as a National Heritage Area by the United States Congress.

Yet this recognition does not shield all sites tied to this history. The loss of ancestral lands, mounting real estate pressure, and climate change threaten several communities. “The cemeteries where our founders lie are under threat, the land passages that once connected the islands are no longer usable”, warns the expert.

In Hilton Head, Town Council member Alex Brown, himself from a fifth-generation Gullah family, summarizes the challenge of preserving memory: “Our people form a significant part of American history. The history of American democracy cannot be told in full without mentioning Gullah sites like Mitchelville.” A history long marginalized, but whose language, traditions, and places continue today to tell of the African presence in the southeastern United States.

Authentic Egypt: Tailor-Made Family Trips to Explore Egypt

With its rich heritage and fascinating history, Egypt is a premier destination for a family trip that will appeal to every generation. Authentique Égypte designs personalized stays by offering playful activities and unique experiences for both young and old.

Egypt, the ideal land for an intergenerational journey

Egypt is a captivating country at any age. The youngest explore the world of the pharaohs, often studied at school; teenagers marvel at temples and pyramids; adults are drawn to museums or lounge on the beaches of the Red Sea. To discover it off the beaten path, nothing beats trying activities offered by locals. From a creative workshop to a boat ride, desert exploration and a zipline inside a troglodyte church, Authentique Égypte aims to propose fun yet authentic stops that let guests immerse themselves in Egyptian history and culture. All while adapting to each person’s needs, with flexible rhythms for babies, nap breaks, or dynamic visits for older children.

A local team that knows the terrain and the needs of French travelers

As a tourism professional, Mélanie Adam noticed the lack of authentic options during her own visits to Egypt. “We were forced to follow the tourist circuits; it was unthinkable to get away from the crowds or to have an authentic experience, so I decided to create one,” she explains. She teams up with an Egyptian partner to found Authentique Égypte, building a network of local providers, Egyptologists guides, and artisans who lead unique workshops. Today, the agency operates with a dedicated team based in Egypt that understands the expectations of French travelers. They are accompanied at every step of the itinerary by a Francophone representative who remains reachable throughout the stay to answer their questions. A true peace of mind, all the more essential when traveling abroad with family.

Family-Focused Itineraries

Specialist in tailor-made travel in Egypt, the agency is committed to co-creating itineraries with families, for families. One can start in Cairo, where the new museum has a very nice section dedicated to children, before discovering the pyramids and then escaping toward the Fayoum Oasis, where they can surf in the desert, learn pottery, and explore the Valley of the Whales.

For families with young children, a Cairo–Red Sea combination itinerary helps limit travel while enjoying suitable reserves, such as Wadi el Gemal, where camels and wildlife can be encountered. Finally, for larger groups, why not privatize a sailing boat for an exclusive Nile cruise? On a full-board basis, travelers stop whenever they wish, avoiding overly crowded places at peak hours. Whatever itinerary is chosen, Authentique Égypte provides comfortable and tailored services, from a baby cot to a car seat.

Thanks to Authentique Égypte’s local expertise and its tailor-made approach, each generation finds its place in the adventure, for an unforgettable journey on the land of the Pharaohs.

Authentique Égypte

+20 106 661 9098

[email protected]

https://www.instagram.com/authentiquegypte/

$100,000 Wellness Retreats to Live Longer: The New Luxury Travel Craze

Resting on a briefcase, a mask connected to sensors promises to detect 23 biomarkers and biological indicators in just a few minutes, before delivering a program to improve health. “PNOË is a respiratory analysis device,” explains Panos Papadiamantis, the head of the company, which employs around a hundred people. “We assess, in functional terms, how well your lungs absorb oxygen, how effectively your heart pumps it, and how efficiently your cells take it up,” he adds.

The link to the worlds of tourism and hospitality may seem tenuous at first glance, and yet the company has already equipped Four Seasons hotels and has other orders in the hospitality sector. “The wellbeing and the longevity represent the new luxury. Consequently, I think wellness and hospitality will be inextricably linked in the future. I don’t believe it will be possible to sell luxury hospitality without tying it very closely to wellness,” the entrepreneur contends.

Beside the PNOË mask, there is a hyperbaric chamber with ultra-modern design, where the visitor can settle into a chic beige chair, an oxygen mask on the face, for a session under a pressure “equivalent to ten meters underwater,” explains David Gumbleton, representative for the HPO Tech brand. With the possibility to continue working, he notes, since tablets are connected inside the chamber.

The “Wellbeing and Appearance” Concern

At the end of the day, he asserts, are expected health benefits such as faster healing processes or reduced inflammation. These tools—often reserved for the medical sector or elite athletes—now find a place in luxury hotels, which can thus offer and monetize additional services.

“The hotel market used to be more about spas and the notion of indulging oneself. Today, people are seeking wellbeing. It is a market with very high growth,” analyzes David Gumbleton. And the hotel, equipped with these new technologies, becomes a destination in itself.

While the wellness sector represented last year as a whole around $2 trillion according to McKinsey, longevity has been thrust into the spotlight by American billionaire Bryan Johnson. It is attracting clientele who, for some, have shifted away from traditional luxury goods. According to a Bain & Company report, global luxury spending fell by 1 to 3% in the previous year compared with 2024. While goods suffered—especially leather goods and fashion—spending on experiences rose by 3% during that period, notably thanks to the wellness sector.

Scientific arguments are not all proven, but the movement is spreading: the Six Senses hotel group offers longevity-focused stays at certain destinations for several thousand euros per week, excluding accommodations. Four Seasons has partnered with Chi Longevity clinics, offering a genetic testing service to discover “how your body metabolizes nutrients in a unique way”.

“It is a demographic reality: the baby-boom generation is reaching retirement age”, notes Stéphane Durand, tourism specialist at the consultancy Voltere by Egis. “These are people with purchasing power, used to being major luxury consumers.” Not to mention “the concern for wellbeing and appearance. These are part of the society’s enduring trends”, he adds—provided they have the means, of course.

In Malta, entrepreneur Mark Weingard, head of the Iniala group, plans to launch in 2028 a four-week longevity program for entrepreneurs across his hotels… at a cost of $100,000. “Longevity is the buzzword right now. But many places do not implement it correctly”, he remarks.

Canada’s Unusual Mummified Toe Cocktail Draws Thousands of Curious Visitors Each Year

Drinking a glass of alcohol in which a real human toe has macerated may seem like a challenge… absurd! Yet, in a small, isolated Yukon town in northwestern Canada, this experience has become a must-see attraction for more than 50 years. Called the “Sourtoe Cocktail,” this drink is served according to a precise ritual, with a mummified limb whose bearer’s lips must inevitably touch the end. Behind this rather bewildering tradition lies a story of gold rush fever, frostbite, and colorful personalities, as explained by the BBC.

A frostbite-origin tale behind an unusual tradition

To understand how a human toe ended up in a glass, head for Dawson City. This town of around 2,300 inhabitants, located 531 kilometers from the nearest city, first earned its fame thanks to the Klondike gold rush. After the precious metal was found in the region in 1896, tens of thousands of prospectors rushed there in search of fortune. When the gold seekers eventually left for other territories, Dawson City retained its frontier-town atmosphere.

It is within this backdrop that the story behind the Sourtoe Cocktail is said to have begun. In the 1920s, during Prohibition in the United States, two brothers, Louie and Otto Linken, were allegedly caught in a violent snowstorm while smuggling liquor toward Alaska by dog sled. Louie, frostbitten after submerging his foot in icy water, reportedly ended up needing an amputation. According to local legend, his brother Otto then severed the toe with a hatchet, keeping it in a jar filled with alcohol.

It wasn’t until the early 1970s that this relic resurfaced. While cleaning an abandoned cabin that had belonged to the two brothers, a Dawson City resident named Dick Stevenson, known as Captain Dick, is said to have discovered the famous jar. In 1973, he decided to turn it into an unusual ingredient for a cocktail and invited his friends to try the experience. The Sourtoe Cocktail was born.

The concept is simple, but the rules are strict. Patrons must order a glass of alcohol, typically whiskey, into which the mummified toe is submerged. A single requirement applies: the lips must touch the toe. It, however, is forbidden to chew, suck, or swallow it. A sign even warns participants that they face a fine of 2,500 dollars (about 2,230 euros) if they ingest the piece of human body accidentally or intentionally.

A rite of passage that continues to draw more visitors

Today, the Sourtoe Cocktail has become one of the Yukon’s most famous curiosities. Around 140,000 people are said to have tried it, automatically joining the Sourtoe Cocktail Club. Their names are entered in a register after this very unusual tasting.

Terry Lee, one of the bartenders responsible for overseeing the ceremony, has held the role of Toe Captain for 13 years. During the peak summer season, he can serve between 75 and 100 cocktails per evening, during his four-hour shift. The drink is offered from May to September at the Sourdough Saloon, inside the Downtown Hotel, and then the rest of the year at the Sluice Box Lounge of the Eldorado Hotel.

“It’s considered something like a rite of passage. Many locals have done it”, Terry Lee told the BBC. The tradition has, however, experienced a few incidents. In 2013, a customer deliberately swallowed the toe, triggering a local scandal. Others have also accidentally swallowed some of the precious appendages.

To prevent the tradition from dying out, organizers now have about 25 toes at their disposal, used in rotation. Some come from posthumous donations. In 2018, a British athlete who suffered frostbite during the Yukon Arctic Ultra ultramarathon donated three of his toes. Dick Stevenson, the creator of the ritual, had himself donated all ten of his toes before his death in 2019.

This practice also reflects the distinctive character of Dawson City. Between its historic buildings, colorful façades, and quirky events, the town fosters a somewhat singular identity. “The Sourtoe has become a kind of strangely proud motif”, says Tara Kehoe, curator at the Dawson City Museum, to the BBC. Even those who refuse to drink the cocktail enjoy bringing their loved ones to witness the scene.

The popularity of this tradition also shows no signs of waning. In June, the Sourdough Saloon set a record by serving 156 Sourtoe Cocktails in a single evening. A testament that in this former gold-rush town, a simple mummified toe can still draw crowds.

Exploring Indigenous Cultures in Australia’s Northern Territory

Summary


  • The oldest living cultures in the world


  • Kakadu, where the landscape tells the story of the Bininj and the Mungguy


  • The Tiwi, on islands where culture is lived daily


  • The Larrakia, guardians of Darwin’s territory

In Australia, Aboriginal culture is not confined to museums. It is still transmitted through languages, stories, ceremonies, and knowledge of the land. A reality particularly visible in the Northern Territory, where Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples account for 26.3% of the population, compared with 3.2% nationally. For several days, we traveled on assignment to meet three Top End peoples to understand how these cultures continue to live and reinvent themselves today.

The oldest living cultures in the world

Indigenous peoples have occupied Australia for at least 65,000 years. Long before the arrival of the British in 1788, the continent consisted of hundreds of distinct nations, each with their own language, traditions, territories, and social systems. To speak of “Aboriginal culture” in the singular is therefore misleading.

Despite this diversity, certain beliefs and values cross many communities. The most important is undoubtedly the relationship to Country. For Indigenous peoples, the land is not merely a geographic space. It gathers ancestors, animals, plants, waterways, sacred sites, and the narratives associated with them. Humans are not owners of it: they are its guardians.

This worldview is expressed notably through Dreaming stories, the “Time of Dreams.” Stories that recount the creation of the world by ancestral beings, shaping landscapes and establishing the rules that govern relationships between humans, animals, and nature.

Among these foundational figures, the Rainbow Serpent occupies a central place in many northern Australian traditions. Associated with water, fertility, and creation, it is said to have shaped rivers, billabongs, and certain landforms during its journeys.

The Indigenous societies also rely on highly developed kinship systems. A person’s identity is defined by their clan, family ties, ceremonial responsibilities, and sometimes their totem, associated with an animal species, plant, or natural element. Some rights and duties are transmitted through the father, others through the mother. Marriage rules are strictly regulated, and unions traditionally could occur only between certain categories of people.

In several northern Australian communities, some relationships are subject to avoidance rules. For example, an adult man should not speak directly to his mother-in-law. Other restrictions sometimes apply to siblings after puberty.

Kakadu, where the landscape tells the story of the Bininj and the Mungguy

Listed as a UNESCO World Heritage site for its natural and cultural riches, Kakadu is primarily the ancestral land of the Bininj and Mungguy. The site is co-managed by the traditional owners and Parks Australia.

Here, culture is omnipresent in the landscape. Every escarpment, every water point, and every floodplain holds a particular meaning and forms part of a complex network of stories handed down through generations.

Visitors often discover this culture through the impressive sites of Ubirr and Burrungkuy. With thousands of paintings made across different eras— some dating back as far as 20,000 years— Kakadu hosts one of the world’s most significant concentrations of rock art.

The so-called “X-ray” style is perhaps the most famous. Artists depicted animals with their bones, organs, and internal anatomy. Barramundi, turtles, and crocodiles thus appear as true biological diagrams.

But this art is not limited to these depictions. Kakadu’s cliffs also house Mimi figures, spiritual beings described as extremely slender and living in rock crevices. According to the traditions of western Arnhem Land, they would have taught humans hunting, dancing, and painting.

There are also scenes of hunting, Dreaming narratives, and paintings illustrating early contacts with the Macassan fishermen from Indonesia and later with Europeans.

For the Bininj and Mungguy, these works are not merely artistic. They constitute real open-air libraries, meant to transmit knowledge about animals, the seasons, sacred places, and social rules.

This knowledge of the land is reflected in the way they observe the environment. Unlike the Western calendar, Kakadu residents distinguish six seasons. Each season is identified by precise cues: the flowering of certain plants, the arrival of migratory birds, crocodile behavior, and the rising waters.

These observations guide hunting, fishing, gathering, and the controlled burning practiced for millennia. Today, these knowledge systems still play a crucial role in managing the national park.

The Tiwi, on islands where culture is lived daily

To the north of Darwin, one must go by sea to reach the Tiwi Islands. The forests, beaches, and mangroves shape a world apart, long kept difficult to access from the mainland. The Tiwi have developed a distinctive culture there, with their own languages, stories, ceremonies, and codes of life.

Here, the sea is both a means of travel and a source of food. Fishing, hunting, and gathering remain part of the lives of some families. From a young age, people learn to recognize species, know where to find them, and when to harvest. This knowledge is passed on in the field, by accompanying parents or grandparents.

On the islands, the stories told overlay the landscapes. A rock, a beach, or a patch of forest may be associated with an ancestor, a Dreaming episode, or a particular rule. Places are thus never completely separated from the stories attached to them.

But it is especially during ceremonies that this culture takes on a spectacular dimension. The best known is the Pukumani, a funerary ritual organized after the death of a community member. The ceremony accompanies the deceased and marks the separation between the living and the one who has died. It mobilizes families, songs, dances, body painting, and ritual objects. Among these objects are the famous Pukumani poles, tall wooden posts erected around the grave. Carved and painted with motifs unique to Tiwi culture, they are made for a specific person and participate in the funeral rite.

Art is everywhere on the islands. Paintings, sculptures, textiles, and contemporary objects reuse motifs and stories passed down within the communities. Artists are now adapting them to new media and exhibiting them abroad. Contemporary creation thus becomes another way to carry Tiwi culture far beyond the islands.

The inhabitants live with their era: they go to school, work, use the Internet, and travel. But ceremonies, stories, language, and country-based knowledge continue to find their place in community life.

The Larrakia, guardians of Darwin’s territory

At first glance, Darwin has little in common with Kakadu’s wild landscapes or the Tiwi Islands. The capital of the Northern Territory lines up roads, buildings, shops, and residential districts. Yet beneath the modern city lies the ancestral territory of the Larrakia, the “Saltwater People.” The sea plays a central role in this culture, as do the rivers, mangroves, and lands surrounding the city.

Colonisation profoundly disrupted this relationship to the land. The establishment of the city, population movements, and policies imposed on Indigenous peoples reduced their access to lands and disrupted the transmission of their languages and practices. But Larrakia culture has not disappeared. Today it is experiencing a significant revitalization movement, driven especially by families, artists, and community organizations.

This culture is visible even in Darwin’s public spaces. Works of art, place names, ceremonies, and events help make the Larrakia history visible in a city where visitors could easily forget that they are on Indigenous land.

Darwin is also a meeting place for the Territory’s various cultures. Aboriginal people from Arnhem Land, the Tiwi Islands, the Kimberley, and the Australian interior live there, work there, or come to practice their art. The capital thus brings together languages, artistic styles, and traditions that are very different. In galleries and cultural centers, one can move in a few streets from a Tiwi work to a painting from Arnhem Land or to a desert artist’s creation.

The Museum and Art Gallery of the Northern Territory houses the National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art Awards (NATSIAA), which highlight the contemporary work of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander artists from the Torres Strait every year. The Larrakia Cultural Centre also sits within this dynamic. Its opening in September 2026 is intended to showcase to the public Larrakia cultural objects that have recently been repatriated after being kept abroad for decades.

Rights Long Denied

The Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples of the Torres Strait were long excluded from many civil rights in Australia. At the federal level, the right to enroll and vote in elections was granted to all Indigenous Australians in 1962. Queensland was the last state to grant them voting rights in local elections, in 1965. Enrollment and voting only became mandatory for Indigenous citizens in 1984.

A major turning point also occurred in 1967. In a referendum, more than 90% of voters approved a constitutional amendment allowing, among other things, the counting of Indigenous populations in the national census and giving the federal Parliament the power to legislate specifically on their behalf.

Since then, the rights and representation of the First Peoples have remained a key issue in Australian public life. In 2023, a referendum proposed embedding in the Constitution an “Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice,” a body to represent Indigenous peoples before Parliament and the federal government. The proposal was rejected by voters, with 39.94% of national votes in favor.

Despite legal and political advances, significant socio-economic gaps persist between Indigenous populations and the rest of the population. The national program “Closing the Gap” aims in particular to reduce these gaps in health, education, employment, housing, and safety. The Australian government publishes annually a progress report on achievements and remaining targets.

Beyond the ballot box, memory tensions also surface each year around January 26 (the date of the arrival of the First Fleet in 1788), Australia’s official national day. Called “Invasion Day” or “Survival Day” by its critics, this date has sparked a growing national debate, with Indigenous peoples and their supporters denouncing the celebration of the beginning of colonization and their dispossession.

Rail Baltica: Baltic States Soon Within Reach by Train

Among the canola fields, about a hundred freight wagons linger in the mild air of May. Spanning several tracks, these trains form convoys over 500 meters long, packed with fertilizers, fuels, and manufactured goods. Among them, a few passenger trains push through and stop here as well, at Mockava.

A 1,200-kilometer Route

This hamlet of 50 inhabitants in southern Lithuania houses the Baltic region’s first station for trains arriving from Poland, eight kilometers away. We are in the Suwałki Corridor, a strategic border zone between Lithuania and Poland: it is the sole land access that connects the Baltic states to the European Union. To the west lies Russia’s Kaliningrad exclave; to the east, Belarus under Alexander Lukashenko, close to Vladimir Putin. Suddenly, passenger trains disgorge travelers in astonishment — the Mockava stop isn’t indicated on itineraries. Yet it is essential because passengers must change trains. A relic of the Russian Empire, then the USSR, the rails in the Baltic states use a gauge of 1.52 meters, compared with 1.435 meters in the rest of Europe.

Those 85 millimeters change everything! Indeed, trains coming from neighboring Poland can no longer run on the rail networks of Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia… even though these countries have been part of the European Union since 2004. Passengers are therefore asked to transfer. Goods, meanwhile, are transferred from one train to another using cranes, and petroleum products are pumped from one tanker wagon to another.

These operations can take up to ten hours, but they should soon belong to the past. Beginning in 2030, a high‑speed line with European gauge is set to connect Poland to the three Baltic states. Its name: Rail Baltica. A 1,200-kilometer route (870 of which run through the Baltic states) that will enable travel from Warsaw, the Polish capital and starting point of Rail Baltica, to the terminus in Tallinn, the Estonian capital facing the Gulf of Finland, in under seven hours — versus twenty today. This colossal project, with a total cost estimated at 24 billion euros and primarily funded by the European Union, involves building new tracks and adapting existing lines. “Until now, trains connected the Baltic states to the Russia. The aim is to create a north–south axis toward Europe”, explains the French engineer Émilien Dang, technical director of Rail Baltica. The line was slated for inauguration in 2026, but the project, plagued by delays and rising costs, is expected to be delivered in 2030. The project was conceived in the 1990s for passenger and freight transport between the Baltic states and the rest of Europe. But in recent years it has taken on a strategic dimension. “Since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the line’s primary objective is military mobility”, Dang adds.

São Miguel Volcanoes: Cooking, Swimming, and Electricity Generation

Funny place for a meal on the go! It’s around 6 p.m. on this Wednesday in May when a white van careens up to the wooded shores of Furnas, on the eastern part of São Miguel, the largest and most populated island in the Azores. The side door swings open in front of a cluster of large earth mounds that puff white smoke. The air carries strong whiffs of sulfur. A municipal worker coming from a nearby shack strolls casually toward one of these curious mounds, and pulls off the sign stuck there, bearing the name of a restaurant, A Terra, located in the village of Furnas, three kilometers away. The man digs through the earth until he reveals a wooden board, which itself hides a hole in the ground. With the help of two metal hooks, he extracts a large cauldron wrapped in white cloth. Inside, a mixture of pork, beef, and chicken, with potatoes, yam, carrots and cabbage, has simmered for six hours, steamed and tender: this is the cozido das Furnas, a hearty stew with a smoky flavor that this corner of the island has made its specialty. “There, there’s about 10 to 15 kilos!” notes Alessandro Costa, a staffer at the restaurant, before getting under way immediately, for dinnertime is approaching…

Furnas, at the Heart of a Living Volcano

Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve: A Walk Among California’s Giants

As you pass through California, take a moment to step away from the city’s frenetic pace. North of the Golden Gate across the bay that lends its name to the bridge bridging it, a multitude of natural wonders await. The sunlit vineyards of Sonoma or Napa counties, of course, and the charms of towns such as Petaluma, certainly. But also the austere verticality of the coastal redwoods, an endemic species of the Pacific coastline of North America, which carpets the fog-swept valleys.

Silence falls as soon as you enter Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve in Sonoma County. The city noises fade and vanish among the colossal trunks of the local giants: the coastal redwoods, silent witnesses to the area’s history — from Indigenous customs to the rise of Silicon Valley’s titans, through the Hispanicization and then Americanization of California. Explanatory panels and clearly marked paths guide the walker among the trees: don’t wander off, you would threaten the local species.

A Millennium of History Before Humans

Before becoming a reserve, these woods were first a inhabited territory. Not even two centuries ago, the sequoia clearings welcomed Indigenous populations. Kashaya Pomo, South Pomo, and Coast Miwok would gather there to trade, play, dance, and sing. Under the trees, dwellings were built with the thick bark of the sequoias, sufficiently insulating to keep the heat. The youngest learned the gestures that would allow the group’s know-how to be perpetuated: weaving baskets, shaping flint, working the materials offered by the forest.

Then California’s face changed. At the end of the 19th century, timber operators began to tackle the vast sequoia forests that covered the region. It was in this context that Colonel James B. Armstrong of Ohio settled in California, giving his name to the park’s oldest giant, a 93.9-meter-tall behemoth born 1,400 years ago.

Facing the scale of tree felling, the colonel and his family bought land and positioned themselves as early local guardians of these forests. Armstrong died in 1900, but his battle continued. His family and friends carried on with the efforts to protect the woods. Armstrong Woods eventually became a county park in 1916, before joining the California State Parks system in 1934. The Armstrong State Redwood Reserve today protects about 326 hectares of forest. It constitutes the largest stand of first-generation redwoods accessible to the public in Sonoma County, and offers a unique glimpse into what the great forests that once covered the region looked like.

Parson Jones, the Reverend Friend of Trees

At Armstrong Redwood, history is written in the trees: the tallest of these woods, the Parson Jones Tree (94.5 meters), bears the name of Reverend William Ladd Jones, known as Parson Jones, a missionary pastor of the Congregationalist Church. He served in the gold-bearing Sierra regions, the sequoia forests around Eureka and the San Francisco Bay. For many years he was a neighbor and friend of James Armstrong and his two daughters. The tree that bears his name will outlive him, by far! It is around 1,300 years old.

The tree dedicated to Reverend Parson Jones is the largest of these woods.

In the Fog, Life

Today the coastal redwood, Sequoia sempervirens, is the largest living thing on Earth. Its endemic natural range is reduced to a narrow stretch along the Pacific Coast, from southern Oregon to central California, rarely more than 80 kilometers from the ocean. Here the coast’s characteristic fog becomes vital: it regularly envelopes the trees, limits the forest’s drying, and brings moisture to an ecosystem that many animal and plant species depend on.

The roots of Sequoia sempervirens reach close to the surface underground, but also extend for dozens of meters around the trunk, intertwining with those of neighboring trees. This subterranean architecture gives them stability against winds and helps capture surface water. When fog condenses on the branches, the water drips to the ground and joins the forest litter, that thick layer of organic matter made up of needles, leaves, bark, and plant debris. Moss, lichens, and roots then help hold and redistribute this precious moisture.

Millennia later, the redwood has proven its capacity to adapt. History shows the species has weathered many climate shifts. After a fire, a storm, or the felling of a tree, the immense root system can sprout new shoots around the stump. Look around you: these young trees sometimes form nearly perfect circles, fairy rings. What might appear to be a cluster of distinct trees is in fact the vegetative offspring of a single individual. An entire forest can thus carry the physical memory of a vanished tree.

Just a few meters above the walker, another scene unfolds. A large portion of animal life concentrates in the canopy, sometimes more than 60 meters above the ground. The cry of a raven breaks the stillness, followed by the hammering of a woodpecker or the rustling of a gray squirrel. Red tree voles also move among the heights and feed especially on the needles of Douglas firs. Down below, a black-tailed deer may cross the undergrowth, while a banana slug glides between the damp leaves. Gray foxes, pumas, raccoons, coyotes, acorn woodpeckers, and Steller’s jays also roam the forest, but often far from human eyes.

At Armstrong Redwood, the fog soaks the branches, the roots surge from the soil, lichens retain the moisture, and fallen trees give rise to new life. The visitor, for his part, is only a passing guest. Let it remain so.

Flores: The Secret Azores Island Worthy of the Garden of Eden

With its endless waterfalls, crater lakes painted in fairy-tale hues, and cliffs that are as sheer as they are foamy, this island of 143 km2 (home to about 3,500 residents), the westernmost in the archipelago, epitomizes Eden on earth. The climate, very humid, has fostered a lush vegetation and a unique flora: roughly fifty plant species are endemic, including varieties of cedar, laurel, and heather. Hence Flores was designated a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve in 2009.

Sweden’s West Coast Islands: A Tranquil Escape Between Sea, Nature, and Gastronomy

Summary

  • Marstrand, first stop on a preserved coastline
  • Dyrön: the authenticity of a car-free island
  • On Åstol they harvest the “black gold of the sea”
  • Tjörn and Orust: between nature, culture and the art of living
  • Käringön: a fishermen’s village out of time
  • On the plate, gastronomy intimately linked to the sea
  • A destination that can be savored even off-season

Far from the bustle of major tourist hubs, a getaway to the islands off western Sweden invites slowing down. Hiking becomes a way to traverse the isles, meals tell of the marine terroir, and each crossing offers a new perspective on a coastline where nature takes center stage.

Marstrand, First Stop on a Preserved Coastline

As you move away from Gothenburg, the country’s second-largest city, the landscape shifts. The mainland gradually yields to a chain of islands and islets, coves and wind-sculpted rocks. For the first stop in the archipelago, Marstrand immediately sets the tempo. Accessible by a short boat crossing from the mainland, the island reveals a scene where colorful wooden houses, narrow, tranquil lanes, small quays, a lively marina, and rocks carved by the elements mingle. Founded in the 13th century and Swedish since 1658, Marstrand was once one of Europe’s most important centers for herring fishing, before becoming a popular seaside resort in the 19th century.

Today, this car-free island maintains a slower, more authentic rhythm, ideal for a stay centered on relaxation. At the island’s summit, Carlsten Fortress dominates the landscape and recalls the strategic past of this former maritime stronghold. But it is by walking the coastal paths of the island that one truly experiences the site’s beauty, a 360-degree panorama dotted with islands and outcrops.

Dyrön: the authenticity of a car-free island

Arriving by ferry, the contrast with neighboring islands is striking at first: on Dyrön, the landscape is greener, made up of valleys, meadows, and granite cliffs. Very popular from Midsummer through the end of August, Dyrön is quieter in September. Ferry crossings are then less crowded, especially in the morning outbound and the evening return.

The island is explored on foot; no cars traverse the alleys. Only a few electric shuttles, used to transport materials or assist people with mobility needs, share the routes with pedestrians.

It is Sören, one of the island’s 200 permanent residents, who accompanies us along the island’s prepared trails. Living here with his wife since 2021, he also offers accommodations to visitors. He guides us along the superb 5 km walking circuit that loops around the island and crosses the spectacular Dynes Ravine via wooden footbridges. An impressive experience.

Another exotic adventure: the electric public sauna. Located at the southern tip of the island, just ten meters from the waves, this community-run sauna has already been voted Sweden’s best electric sauna. Offering an incredible view through its glass bays, you then access the sea directly via ladders and smooth rocks for a refreshing dip (if you’re chilly, better skip!).

For everyday errands, a shop acts as a mini-supermarket, a pharmacy and a bakery. Need a plate or a tool for DIY? A space exists where residents can leave items they no longer use and others can take them. A barter system that testifies to Dyrön’s communal spirit.

On Åstol they harvest the “black gold of the sea”

Like on Dyrön, Åstol, smaller still, is an island where the visitor once again savors walking but in a different setting. The small fishing village sits on a particularly spectacular rocky island. The white and colorful houses seem to cling to the slopes, while the harbor recalls the historical importance of fishing in local life.

Åstol was settled in the mid-18th century, during one of the great haring abundance periods. For generations, fishing sustained the island and brought prosperity. At its peak, nearly 500 people resided there, and in the 1960s more than twenty large steel trawlers were based there. The decline of fishing in the 1970s radically changed the island’s face and forced residents to leave.

But new residents have moved in, drawn by the charm of this small territory still closely tied to the sea. While fishing no longer holds the same importance, it continues to shape local life, notably thanks to shrimp, crabs, and lobster, nicknamed the “black gold of the sea.” A stop is a must at Åstol Rökeri (Åstol Smokehouse) restaurant, a renowned fish restaurant with its own fish smoker. We sampled slightly smoked shrimp served with aioli… Fans of classic Swedish pickled herring will not be disappointed.

Here too, there is no motorized traffic: only the sound of footsteps, the wind, and the movement of the sea.

Tjörn and Orust: between nature, culture and the art of living

Wider in scope, Tjörn offers numerous walking routes to enjoy the region’s characteristic scenery: pink and gray rocks, heathlands, coves, and meadows, all set against the sea. The colorful fishing villages and wild beaches contribute to the quintessential Swedish postcard landscape.

Our stop was on the island of Mjörn, within the municipality of Tjörn, a journey back through time. At Sundsby Säteri, a historic estate dating back to the 14th century, one discovers a rolling, wooded park crisscrossed by trails and traversed by a road that retains its medieval layout. Private for over three centuries, the estate was purchased in 2003 by the municipality of Tjörn, which opened it to the public.

There you can learn especially about Margaret Huitfeldt, a wealthy aristocrat and landowner of the 17th century, who became one of the wealthiest women of her era in Bohuslän upon her husband’s death. She lived there with her family and founded a charitable foundation in memory of her youngest son, who died prematurely, with the aim of helping the poor and funding the education of Bohuslän’s young students. She fulfilled this and went further. In 1664, she established a substantial donation in his memory, including the Sundsby estate. It has become famous as one of the most significant land donations in Sweden’s history.

The stroll then continues through the gardens, tended by gardeners in period costumes and using antique tools, followed by a stop at the café, offering dishes, pastries, and homemade breads.

Orust, on the other hand, reveals a more rural ambiance. The third-largest island in Sweden is dotted with small ports, villages, traditional houses, and agricultural landscapes that remind us that Bohuslän life is not solely about the sea: it rests on a balance between land and ocean. A chance to pause for a fika in a harbor-side café. The fika, often translated as coffee, is a cherished moment when one enjoys a cup of coffee but, more broadly, it is also the coffee break accompanied by cakes, tarts, or biscuits—a mid-afternoon treat. A deeply rooted Swedish tradition that lets us discover cinnamon buns (kanelbullar), one of the region’s most iconic sweet treats.

On Tjörn as on Orust, the journey takes a more contemplative dimension. We walk, breathe in the sea air, pause to admire the landscape, and gradually discover a lifestyle built on closeness to nature.

Käringön: a timeless fishing village

The journey continues to Käringön, another small car-free island that has managed to preserve a particularly authentic character. Barely 5 kilometers in circumference, and yet a true maze of lanes, traditional houses, small gardens, rocks and piers that compose a photogenic setting. But behind this postcard lies the story of a community closely tied to the sea. Here, houses perched on the rock are generally not separated by fences. Public paths mingle with private gardens, giving walks an astonishing sense of continuity and freedom.

On the harbor, a few shops, restaurants and a hotel are enough to sustain the island. In peak season, Käringön experiences spectacular crowds: from 67 residents outside the summer period, the population can reach nearly 3,000 in summer. In early September, the bustle subsides and the island settles into a calmer pace. Beyond seasonal crowds, a shared aspiration remains: to preserve the tranquility and character of this unique place. On Käringön, you must take time to look. A boat moored at the quay, a colorful façade, a fishing net forgotten on a jetty, a house facing the open sea… So many details that tell the story of an island shaped by the sea. Fishing, which long governed local life, remains at the heart of its identity today.

In the Plate, a Gastronomy Intimately Tied to the Sea

It’s impossible to explore the Swedish west coast without delving into its gastronomy. Here, the sea feeds directly into the plate. Oysters, shrimp, crabs, mussels, and crayfish are among the emblematic products of this coast renowned for the richness of its waters. To accompany these coastal products, Bohuslän dishes are often paired with dill and horseradish, with dill lending its essential anise-like freshness to cooking broths, while horseradish, frequently grated or incorporated into emulsions, adds a sharp kick that is much appreciated. Additionally, harvesting local seaweeds (such as sea lettuce or sweet kelp) adds a unique umami flavor to local dishes, and even infuses regional spirits or craft beers.

Simplety is often on the menu: fresh products are prepared with care, accompanied by bread, potatoes, or delicate sauces often based on oil. The cuisine highlights the quality of the ingredients rather than multiplying artifices. Through each course, the visitor discovers the region in a different way, through its meals.

A Destination That Can Be Savored Off-Season as Well

Choosing to travel off-season gives this getaway a completely different dimension. Far from the summer bustle, the islands reveal themselves in a more intimate atmosphere. The changing light reveals the granite’s nuances, the trails invite you to take your time, and the villages shift their pace.

Here, distances are short, but everything invites you to slow down. To walk without haste, to stop to observe, to chat with islanders, to taste the sea’s produce, and to savor every moment. More than a route island by island, this escape is an invitation to reconnect with a slower time dictated by landscapes, seasons, and the sea. A different way to discover Sweden, in a surprising sense of disconnection.

Discover Western Sweden

How to get there: By plane from Paris, direct flight to Gothenburg with KLM. To reach the Bohuslän islands, the well-developed bus network easily serves the towns from which ferries depart.

A hotel: On Marstrand, the Grand Hôtel Marstrand, a historic seaside hotel dating from the late 19th century, benefits from an ideal seaside location with direct access to the cobbled streets and the quay. It is part of efforts to strengthen sustainability in Western Sweden.

A restaurant: On Dyrön, Dyröns Värdshus, a small inn-restaurant located near the port, highlights seasonal produce and offers simple yet refined cuisine inspired by the flavors of the Swedish west coast.

An activity: On Orust, unwind at Starna Ocean Spa offering a wellness experience focused on heat, water, and the coast’s exceptional views of Bohuslän. Saunas, a floating sauna, and an outdoor pool facing the sea help you disconnect.

Want to visit Western Sweden? Before you go, for practical tips or general information on traveling in Western Sweden, the site ouestsuede.com is a treasure trove of resources.