Star of Africa

Remote, unspoiled, with a bewitching mix of cultures: Jeffrey Gettleman on why there are few places quite like the island of Lamu, in Kenya.

WHEN YOU LAND at the miniature airport in Lamu, a group of islands off the coast of Kenya, the first thing you do is walk down a long pier to a waiting dhow. You step aboard. You smell the old wood of the sailing boat, the design of which goes back centuries. Across a narrow channel in the Indian Ocean you see Lamu Town, the oldest and best-preserved Swahili settlement in East Africa and a UNESCO World Heritage site.

As your dhow putters along, you begin to make out weathered, whitewashed buildings overlooking the water, thatched roofs, shadowed walkways, and coconut palms. Far-flung yet thriving, Lamu Island has stood by itself for hundreds of years as a trading hub between Africa, the Arabian Peninsula, and India. Today's trade is mostly tourism, but Lamu still feels beautifully separated from the rest of the world.

When my wife, our two sons, and I arrived at the iconic Peponi Hotel (doubles from $270), which sits about two miles down the beach from Lamu Town, the staff welcomed us with hugs and ushered us onto the bright veranda. We'd flown all the way from London, with the requisite stopover in Nairobi (there are also flights from Mombasa), and the Peponi team could sense we'd had a long journey. Their message was simple: relax. The interior of the hotel was cool, airy, and white. Just feet away, the water was clear as glass.

We were also traveling with my friend Shalini, who'd never been to Lamu before. She looked around and beamed, then said: "I want to come back already."