BackgroundThe Comoros islands got their name from early Arab seafarers, who named this tiny archipelago Djazair al Qamar – ‘Islands of the Moon’. Probably they were referring to the crescent moon of Islam, and the moon remains on the Comorian flag to this day. The word Qamar, or moon, became corrupted into Comores in French, and then Comoros in English to form the country’s modern-day name.
It’s easy, however, to slip into a more romantic frame of mind and imagine that these early visitors were inspired by the brilliant tropical moon that hangs in the night sky above the palm trees, white beaches and crumbling Swahili ruins of the Comoros. It would be fair to say that the Comoros islands are just about as far off the beaten track as it’s possible to get. Most people in Europe or America will give you only a blank stare if you mention the islands’ name. Because of their history of political instability (there have been 20 coups d’etat in the 19 years since independence), the Comorian tourist industry is still in a fledgling state, with no hotels of international standard on the three islands that make up the Republic of the Comoros (the fourth island in the group, Mayotte is still an overseas territory of France). But if you’re the sort of traveller to whom remoteness, uncertainty and lack of a tourist trade are a positive draw, it’s well worth paying the Comoros a visit. The three islands of Grand Comore, Mohéli and Anjouan between them offer active volcanoes, dazzling white sand beaches, lush rainforests and coral reefs.
The Comoros’ other major draw is the Comorians themselves – friendly people descended from Arab traders, Persian sultans, African slaves and Portuguese pirates. Today their Swahili-speaking culture remains strong, and the Comoros are a fascinating addition to any trip to the better-known Swahili islands of Zanzibar in Tanzania and Lamu in Kenya. Their proximity to Madagascar also means that it’s relatively easy to add a trip to the Comoros to a holiday there. What to see…Grand Comore (known as Ngazidja by the Comorians) is largest and most developed economically of the three islands. Away from the handsome main town, Moroni, the island is dominated by the 2361m Mt Karthala, the largest active volcano in the world, which last erupted in the 1970s, burying a nearby village.
The island is fringed by sandy beaches that vary in colour from brilliant white to dark volcanic grey. There’s a small amount of agricultural land in the south, where there are banana, cassava, breadfruit, vanilla, ylang-ylang and coconut plantations. The central part of the island in the north features dramatic landscapes of black solidified lava. Most of the island's population live on the west coast, while the east coast remains quiet and traditional, with only a few tiny thatched-hut villages. An afternoon in MoroniMoroni is a traditional Swahili town, consisting mainly of white buildings constructed in the Arabic style with high walls and flat roofs. In the town centre is a small Arab quarter, or Medina, with narrow streets and carved wooden doors. Many happy hours can be spent here, wandering, playing with the local children, and chatting with the old men, many dressed in the traditional kanzu (long white robe) and kofia (skull cap), who congregate outside the mosques for a game of dominoes or bao (an ancient African game played using a board carved with 32 holes). Moroni’s most impressive structure along the waterfront is the off-white, two-storey Old Friday mosque. This structure, with its rows of colonnades and tall, square minaret, dates back to 1427, though the minaret was added early in the 20th century.
To see the interior of any of the mosques, you'd have to be male, appropriately dressed (in long trousers) and go through the ritual washing of the feet before entering. Moroni's bazaar and old covered market are a great place to while away a few hours amongst a hectic mess of noise, smell and colour. The female vendors mostly wear gaily coloured chiromani (cloth wraps) and often have their faces plastered in yellow sandalwood paste. They squat over their piles of fruit, vegetables and fish, waving half heartedly at clouds of flies while the throngs of pedestrians and vehicles jostle past.
In amongst the crowd are boys selling racks of plastic sunglasses, Moslem clerics preaching to the crowds, and grubby children playing intricate games in the dust. The men in the bazaar don't generally mind being photographed or filmed, although it's polite to ask first, but expect a torrent of abuse if you point your camera at the ladies! | 
