The Best Chocolate in the World
By the end of 2025, I really needed a break from sitting in front of my computer. I was feeling restless, so I decided to do something a bit crazy. I’ve always loved adventure and Robinson Crusoe stories, so I searched for all the direct flights available from Lisbon, looking for the most remote place I could find.
That’s how I discovered a little country called São Tomé and Príncipe. Two small islands in the Gulf of Guinea. If you don’t know where that is, picture a map of the world with the parallels and meridians crossing it. It sits exactly at the center, coordinate (0, 0), at the intersection of the Equator and the Greenwich Meridian.
The cool thing about São Tomé is that it’s one of the few countries in Africa where you can venture into the forest and walk without a guide. Not because it’s much safer, but because no one really cares. In fact, not many people go there at all, Lisbon being the only European airport with direct flights, a trace of its colonial past. My plan was simple: go there with a bag, a speargun, and a Starlink so I could hike, fish, and work remotely on my B2B SaaS.
The Polish Man
On the plane, I met a Polish man, apparently as lost as me, who told me about one of his trips to Transnistria. His job consisted of monitoring Lego toy exhibitions, but to make some side money and travel for free, he would agree to fly and deliver “urgent packages” that clients couldn’t wait for. I suppose that’s the kind of person you’d expect to encounter on these adventures.
We hit it off. I told him I was planning to go hiking, with a side project of studying the insects I’d find along the way. I suspected entomology wasn’t particularly developed in that corner of the world, and I secretly hoped to discover a new species of ant. Strangely enough, this made him enthusiastic and he offered to come along.
The next morning, we met downtown to negotiate a taxi ride to the “botanical garden”, a remote spot in the middle of the island, near a small mountain where they produce highly renowned coffee. Our driver, an old Cuban-São Toméan who had made a career as a dog trainer in the Soviet army, told us his story during what was, to say the least, a bumpy ride.
Lost in the Jungle
The day before, I had found an excellent GPS track that would take us through “one of the most beautiful parts of the jungle” to reach a supposedly famous hotel where we could catch a taxi. The hike was supposed to last 5 hours, but that didn’t account for our overinflated confidence.
We took detours, first to visit a lake along the way, then to attempt a shortcut that turned out to be a dead end, forcing us to climb back up a ravine. The further we went, the less maintained the trail became. Regularly, fallen trees blocked our path, but I remember one moment where the trail simply vanished. To my left, a steep drop. To my right, a wall of dirt. And in front of me the path had collapsed entirely, leaving us no choice but to jump.
After 6 hours, following a light rain, daylight began to fade. The sun sets early at the equator, even more so when you’re surrounded by jungle with tall trees. We finally reached the end of the GPS track… but it was a false hope. According to the map we had fortunately downloaded, we still had a few more kilometers before reaching the supposed location of the hotel: Bombaim.
And so it was at dusk that we arrived at what was supposed to be our salvation, only to find it was nothing of the sort. Beyond an entrance overgrown with vines and brambles, we could make out a large abandoned building resembling a haunted house. The hotel was abandoned. Worse: there was no road, much less any possibility for a taxi to come here.
I was devastated. My Polish friend didn’t flinch. He didn’t hold it against me and seemed to have accepted that we were lost. Going back wasn’t an option: retracing our steps at night would have been not only dangerous but pointless, as the botanical garden would be closed until the next day. After a few minutes of reflection, we decided to walk along one of the two trails facing us. According to our map, it seemed like the closest thing to a road within a few hours’ walk, though the reliability of this source was questionable.
For hours we walked, at first in silence, then gradually sharing our stories. My friend initiated the conversation, and I was deeply grateful for the distraction from my aching muscles. Around us, the trees let through glimpses of moonlight. At times, the canopy opened up to reveal the magnificent spectacle of the Milky Way, without a single light to pollute it.
I remember wondering how many humans had walked like this, not knowing where they were going or when they would arrive. Probably most of those who ever lived on this Earth.
At some point, the path widened and I spotted a small village in the distance. Strangely, there wasn’t a single light, but in a small dwelling, a wooden cabin with an iron roof, I glimpsed movement. I approached to ask for help in uncertain Portuguese, and after a few minutes, a woman came out, joined by her neighbor. After explaining our situation, they led us to another part of the village, where some inhabitants were having a small party. Two of them had motorcycles, and after a brief negotiation, they kindly agreed to take us to the nearest town for a few euros.
I was relieved. After more than 10 hours of walking through the jungle, we were finally out of trouble. But for me, this was only the beginning.
Falling Sick
The next day, after a sleep closer to a coma, I decided to walk around the capital to find somewhere to work on my computer. On the way, I stumbled upon a workshop: that of chocolatier Claudio Corallo. Curious, I knocked, and he opened, taking a few minutes to explain his work and agreeing to tell me his story in more detail if I came back at the end of my trip.
Unfortunately, after two hours I started feeling strangely weak. It was terribly hot, and I thought I wouldn’t have the strength to get back to the hotel. Once there, I couldn’t get out of bed. I must have caught something, or maybe my system just needed rest after the previous day’s ordeal. The next day things were even worse. I only left my bed to swallow some breakfast before collapsing back onto the mattress.
The day after, I could finally walk, but it was my last night at the hotel. I needed to head to the south of the island, to a small seaside village called Ribeira Peixe. There, a Frenchman had built a small vacation house and agreed to rent it to me for next to nothing. Apparently, not many people were eager to stay somewhere without cell service, internet, or even running water. I spent the morning buying supplies and finding a way to get there: a public taxi.
And so I left in a public taxi. Two passengers squeezed onto the same front seat, the car door that wouldn’t close, and roads so bad it took us two hours to cover 50 kilometers. I had brought a sandwich, a large bag of rice, and powdered milk, planning to buy vegetables in the village and spearfish for protein.
That first evening, I set up Starlink, and for once, everything went as planned. It worked surprisingly well.
Living Like Robinson Crusoe
The next day I went spearfishing, but I wasn’t very good. I had to make do with two small fish. The river emptied into the sea and made visibility rather poor. However, this allowed me to befriend the village fishermen. They agreed to take me out on their boat the following days.
At sunrise, around 5 AM, we set off on what was essentially a hollowed-out tree trunk with a large gasoline engine strapped to the back, heading for the open sea. A few kilometers from the coast, volcanic rock formations jutted out of the water like teeth, and the seafloor was shallowest there, less than 10 meters deep. It was a fishing paradise: crystal-clear water, fish of every color swimming around me. I was spoiled for choice. I even saw a turtle.
Over the following days, it became a ritual. I would go out with them in the morning to catch my meals for the day. They taught me techniques for catching octopus, and I even had the chance to eat an enormous lobster. During the day, I could work peacefully or explore the surroundings.
One day, I rented a motorcycle from a friend of the fishermen to fulfill a childhood dream: to go on a treasure hunt.
The Center of the World
As a kid, I had enjoyed geocaching, a global collaborative game where players hide treasures and leave online clues to find them. A bit further south from Ribeira Peixe lay the port of Porto Alegre, and just beyond that, right on the Equator line: the island at the center of the world, Ilhéu das Rolas. Suspecting someone might have had the same idea as me, I checked online. Sure enough, there was a cache there.
Without further thought, I rode to the end of the island and paid a fisherman to take me to the islet. On the way, I passed a small garden of exotic plants, and its owner showed me his different species. Including his banana trees.
There’s a little-known fact about bananas. Until the 1950s, the most cultivated variety was called Gros Michel, but that year a disease spread, nearly wiping it out and forcing producers to replace it with the Cavendish variety. The latter, much more resistant, is also much less flavorful, less creamy. Have you ever tasted a banana-flavored candy and wondered why it tastes nothing like supermarket bananas? It’s simply because the artificial flavoring was synthesized to taste like Gros Michel before the disease made it disappear.
This isn’t information you’ll easily find online, but I can confirm there are still Gros Michel bananas in São Tomé. They’re actually quite common. In any case, banana in hand, I finally reached the monument at the center of the world. Hidden somewhere among the stones was a small tube containing a paper with the names of previous visitors.
On the way back, having retrieved my motorcycle, I remember stopping by the roadside at a “bakery.” It’s one of my fondest memories: after 7 days of eating fish and living like Robinson Crusoe, that warm little bread with a fried egg and a café au lait felt like a feast.
The Chocolate
The next day, I decided to head to the northwest of the island, to a comfortable room with hot water, a cozy bed, and magnificent nature all around. I had decided to spend my last few days doing calmer activities. Particularly, learning more about chocolate.
Around me were cacao plantations. My first surprise was discovering cacao pulp. It has absolutely nothing to do with chocolate, but it’s delicious. I visited the plantations, comparing varieties and learning the steps of transforming cacao into chocolate. On my last day, back in the capital, I was ready to visit Claudio Corallo’s laboratory.
This man was an Italian agronomist who had settled in Africa in the 1950s, in Zaire (now the DRC) to grow coffee. I must admit he seemed completely mad to me, but in the most beautiful way: like an artist. Having arrived in São Tomé to escape political instability, he became interested in cacao and convinced himself that global producers were simply incompetent. According to him, cacao had no reason to be bitter if the entire process was done correctly.
He demonstrated this several times by having me taste pieces of pure chocolate, without a trace of sugar or milk. It was both powerful and gentle. By far the best chocolate I’ve ever tasted.
That didn’t stop me from walking 200 meters after leaving his laboratory to reach the Diogo Vaz shop,multiple times awarded as the best chocolatier in the world. And so it was with a bag full of kilos of chocolate that I headed home.
But the story doesn’t end there.
Coincidences
When I arrived in Lisbon, I learned that my luggage had stayed in Africa, along with everyone else’s from the flight. I was complaining about the airline with the man next to me. He spoke French and we had hit it off while waiting. He noticed my bag and said it was his. Standing before me was Jérémie Diogo Vaz, coming to settle in Portugal.
A beautiful coincidence, but that’s not all.
The next day, forced to walk to the office since my bike keys were still in Africa, I noticed a small shop on the way: Bettina Corallo. Curious, I approached. It was a chocolate shop. How about that.
I went in and met Bettina, Claudio’s ex-wife. I had traveled to Africa to taste the best chocolate in the world, I had listened to her husband’s entire story the day before, and it turned out I had been walking past one of only two places on Earth where I could taste it …every single day.
Life is surprising.