In Conversation with Matthew Joshua from Saint Helena Tourism

Back in the day – by this, I mean anything pre-2017 – the only means of accessing the island was a 5-day sail from South Africa aboard the last Royal Mail ship left on Earth. You can see why we relocated Napoleon here. It all begs the question: why Saint Helena? ‘When it’s so easy to get anywhere in the world,’ Matthew says, ‘those bucket list destinations really stand out.’ There’s now a regular flight from South Africa that makes sustaining a tourism industry much more viable than in the past and there’s a burgeoning travel scene.

‘When I look at Saint Helena in terms of reasons to visit, I think of 4 pillars,’ Matthew says when I ask him what makes his home island so special. ‘Number one: nature.’ Saint Helena is blessed topographically by being immensely hilly. There’s virtually no flat ground, which means that the range of different habitats and biome in a relatively small space of land is really quite remarkable. ‘Our hiking is unique. On any one day, you’re trekking through semi-deserts, cloud forests, mountains – all with virtually no travel time between them.’ As you do so, you’ll also collect some of Saint Helena’s unique stamps. The island has 21 ‘post box walks’, officially accredited hikes that earn the hiker a stamp upon completion: ‘We have loads of people who come back to complete the set.’

And then there’s the ocean. It’s teeming with life: ‘the Big 5 of the seas’ and the diving and sailing are thrilling. Unsurprisingly for an island in the middle of a vast expanse of water, the ocean informs almost everything on Saint Helena. From its early days when it was discovered by the Portuguese, Saint Helena’s history has been defined by its location. It was a key trading point that hosted up to a thousand ships a year, many of them full of human cargo en route to the Americas as part of the hideous Middle Passage. ‘We do have dark parts to our history and we’re not shying away from them,’ Matthew says, ‘whereas previously it was whitewashed from our curriculum and thinking, we’re now embracing it and teaching the next generations.’ Some of that was precipitated by the discovery of a mass grave when the airport was being built in 2016-17 and Matthew says that ‘we’re now doing loads of work to sympathetically restore an African legacy.’

Away from the slave trade, Saint Helena’s historical legacy is equally remarkable. Its cast list reads as a who’s who from the history pages: from exiled Zulu and Bahraini princes, to Halley of the comet, Darwin, the East India Company and, of course, Napoleon. ‘We recognise his importance to tourism and over the years we’ve had tonnes of French visitors,’ Matthew tells me, ‘but, over the years we’ve seen how the younger French travellers aren’t as interested in him than their predecessors.’ That said, the villa where he lived and died whilst on the island is easily accessible, there’s a ceremony each year on the day of his death and, as Matthew says, ‘we wouldn’t be on the map without his legacy.’

It turns out that, in the course of our chat, we’ve already covered pillars 2 and 3: the ocean and Saint Helena’s history – ‘which leaves us with pillar 4: the people.’ Saint Helena is a British Overseas Territory. Its currency is the Great British pound, the national anthem is God Save the King, the Head of State is Charles and the residents speak English. Prince Edward recently visited and Matthew says the island went all out: ‘bunting, singing, the whole lot. We’re a very patriotic bunch.’ Culturally, though, there’s a bit more going on. ‘I like to describe it as Scotland wearing a Hawaiian shirt. We’re remote and British but there’s a distinctly tropical feel.’ Matthew’s actually a great example of that himself. His accent is straight Saint Helenian and it is (his words) west country crossed with Pacific Island.

Sunday lunch is a curry served alongside a traditional roast and, with the advent of DNA testing, locals have discovered that there’s a genetic mix on the island that they could never have imagined: ‘we’re a box of liquorice all sorts.’ I ask about how islanders view the prospect of tourism. I had imagined that the idea of hordes of people arriving on an island with a population ‘small enough to drop into Trafalgar Square without anyone noticing’ may have produced some trepidation, but Matthew is quick to disavow me of that idea. ‘People have taken to it very well indeed because we’re never going to be a cruise ship destination.’ The locals are not going after mass tourism; instead, they want the visitors to the island to have an impact multiplier, where the community benefits and people stay for longer. That’s already visible in the homestays and hotels – there’s one 4* hotel on Saint Helena – that have popped up to cater for the demand.