Seen from the deck, the island of Sal looks like a fragment of the Sahara broken off from the continent: flat, ochre, swept by the trade winds, surrounded by an electric-blue sea. Yet it's the most visited island in Cape Verde, and its contrast is what makes it so interesting — lunar landscapes on one side, some of the most beautiful beaches in the Atlantic on the other. Ships call at Palmeira, a port village on the west coast whose brightly painted houses and murals cheer up the lanes. The village can be explored on foot in half an hour; for the rest of the island, shared taxis and excursions shuttle back and forth on short, easy roads.

Palmeira, a colourful welcome

Around the small harbour where fishing boats bob, life goes on: nets being mended, dominoes on the terraces, cafés serving grogue, the national sugar cane spirit. Cobalt blue, lemon yellow and mint green façades give the streets a permanently festive air, and the murals tell of Cape Verdean sea and music. An hour is enough to see it all, greet the artisans and soak up the morna that sometimes drifts from a radio.

Buracona, the blue eye

On the northwest coast, the black lava forms natural pools, the most famous of which bears a well-deserved nickname: the blue eye. Around midday, when the sun shines straight down into the rocky cavity, the water lights up an unreal turquoise that seems lit from below. All around, waves crash against the dark rock in white plumes — a striking mineral setting, about twenty minutes by road from Palmeira. Bring closed-toe shoes and a hat: the volcanic ground is unforgiving to sandals, and shade is scarce.

Floating in a volcano

Another geological curiosity, the Pedra de Lume salt flats occupy the crater of an extinct volcano whose floor, below sea level, naturally fills with salt water. You float effortlessly, buoyed as in the Dead Sea by a brine far denser than the ocean. The remains of the salt works — rails, winches, wooden huts — recall the time when this salt, shipped by the boatload to mainland Africa and Brazil, made the local fortune and gave Sal its name. The experience, unusual and fun, appeals to children and adults alike; showers on site let you rinse off.

Santa Maria, the beach at the end of the island

At the southern tip, Santa Maria unrolls kilometres of pale sand in front of crystal-clear water where kitesurfers trace their arabesques. On the long wooden pier, the fishermen's return becomes a show every late morning: tuna and sea bream pass from boat to stall amid shouts and laughter. The town's streets line up restaurants, shops and bars where you can taste cachupa, the national stew of corn and beans, or simply a grilled fish with your feet in the sand.

Mirages and bare landscapes

Between stops, the road crosses desert plains where the light plays tricks: at Terra Boa, a mirage effect makes a non-existent sea shimmer just above the horizon. These empty expanses, dotted with rare acacias, form the silent flip side of the beach destination — and are a reminder that Sal remains, above all, a piece of desert set on the Atlantic.

A smile at departure

Heading back to Palmeira in the afternoon, the wind carries snatches of music and the smell of grilled fish. Once the gangway is raised, there's salt on your skin and the local expression in your head: no stress. Two words that sum up, better than any long speech, the way of life on this island where the desert has learned to dance.