For more than 500 years, the only way to reach the British Overseas Territory of Saint Helena was by sea. Travelling to the South Atlantic island by sailboat, after a nine-day voyage from Namibia, my family and I made landfall the way every person before us has: the way Napoleon Bonaparte did when he was sent into exile in 1815; the way modern-day Saints (as the local population is known) do when they venture home from work in the UK; and the way the occasional, intrepid visitor has always done. But we were one of the last travellers to do so. St. Helena's new Governor, Lisa Phillips, steps ashore (Credit: Credit: Diane Selkirk/Evan Gatehouse) St. Helena's new Governor, Lisa Phillips, steps ashore (Credit: Diane Selkirk/Evan Gatehouse) In April, the first commercial plane landed at the island’s new airport, and the last working Royal Mail Ship, the St Helena, was slated for decommissioning. A dwindling population and defiant island geology – which, as Charles Darwin put it, “rises abruptly like a huge black castle from the ocean” – were long-time barriers to the development of an airport. But fears that the island could become nothing more than a remote old age home as younger Saints look elsewhere for employment finally forced the issue. Planned weekly flights will replace the monthly ship visits, and tourism is projected to take off. Jump media playerMedia player helpOut of media player. Press enter to return or tab to continue. Now, for the first time, visitors won’t risk being doused in the Atlantic swell when they reach for the ropes at the sea-washed Jamestown landing, trying to time their first step onto solid ground. I, however, had expected the ropes at the landing – and even the strong arms of the Saints as they pulled me away from the swirling sea. I knew that the capital of Jamestown would be a crayon-coloured English village wedged improbably into a volcanic cleft on a tropical island. I’d read that Napoleon Bonaparte had been the island’s most famous prisoner. St. Helena is located in the South Atlantic Ocean (Credit: Credit: Gillian Moore/Alamy) St. Helena is located in the South Atlantic Ocean (Credit: Gillian Moore/Alamy) But knowing of a place and knowing a place are different things. Of all the islands I’ve visited, Saint Helena is the most wonderful and strange. Caught somewhere between today and a time that may never have existed, St Helena has a retirement home for donkeys who have been replaced by cars; it only got mobile phone service a few months ago; it has a tiny bit of France (literally) in its lush interior; and it’s home to an estimated 187-year-old giant tortoise called Jonathon who, I was told, was just given his first wish. “What do you think a tortoise wishes for?” my daughter Maia asked me, after our guide Robert Peters told us about Jonathon. I had no idea, especially when Peters added: “Some say he already had a wish, so this might really be his second.” In April, the first commercial plane landed in St. Helena (Credit: Credit: Diane Selkirk/Evan Gatehouse) In April, the first commercial plane landed in St. Helena (Credit: Diane Selkirk/Evan Gatehouse) We found Jonathon (along with the much younger David, Emma, Myrtle and Fredrika) on the lawn of the governor’s residence, Plantation House. Set in the rugged island’s surprisingly bucolic interior – which appears transplanted in its entirety, complete with charming parish churches, from the English countryside – Plantation House and Jonathon are just two of the 162-square-mile island’s eclectic highlights. Did you know? some text Jacob’s Ladder consists of 699 steps and climbs 600ft over Jamestown. The steep stairway began life as an inclined-plane cableway in 1829 and was converted to stairs in 1871. School children used to slide down the ladder’s railings in their rush to get home.

• published: 19 Sep 2016
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