January 2022: Suriname is a fascinating country that, I promise you, most people have never heard of. I discovered this firsthand while waiting at the airport gate in Miami to board my flight, as one person after another walked by, stopped to stare, and asked aloud, “Where is Suriname?”

A former Dutch colony, Suriname is 80% covered by pristine Amazon rainforest. Much of the country, including large portions of its coastal areas, remains inaccessible due to the lack of roads and infrastructure. It is home to a diverse mix of indigenous tribes, descendants of enslaved Africans, Dutch colonists, and immigrants from former Dutch territories around the world. Ghostly remnants of its colonial past—decaying wooden Dutch-era houses and abandoned plantations—still dot the landscape.

My trip to Suriname and French Guiana almost didn’t happen. For most of 2020 and 2021, Suriname was closed to tourists due to COVID-19. A month after being stranded in Mozambique when Omicron first emerged, I watched as cases skyrocketed globally, and mixed signals from Surinamese authorities made me think my trip would be impossible. Even the official Suriname e-visa website still claimed the country was closed to tourism. As it turned out, the site had simply failed to update old information. In the end, Suriname remained open, and my three-day trip over New Year’s was actually happening—assuming, of course, I didn’t catch COVID myself, which in San Diego was spreading in record numbers. 

About Suriname

Suriname is the only Dutch-speaking country in South America. This steamy, tropical land must have been incredibly inhospitable when first colonized in the 1700s. It changed hands among European powers several times before ultimately falling under Dutch control—in exchange for surrendering New York to the British.

For centuries, Suriname’s economy thrived on plantation agriculture, built on the backs of enslaved laborers. Initially, the indigenous people were enslaved, but many either perished or escaped deep into the jungle, using their knowledge of the terrain to their advantage. As a result, the Dutch turned to enslaved Africans to meet their labor demands. Over time, many enslaved people revolted and fled into the rainforest, establishing independent maroon communities. Eventually, they were granted freedom.

To fill the resulting labor void, the Dutch looked to their other colonies, bringing in indentured servants from India and Indonesia—essentially a paid form of slavery. These workers toiled on the plantations, shaping the country’s economic and cultural landscape. Today, the legacy of Suriname’s complex history is reflected in its rich mix of ethnic groups, making it one of the most diverse nations in the region.

Map of Suriname

Day 1: My friend Jimmie and I flew to Paramaribo, the capital of Suriname, via Miami on a nearly empty plane, giving me an entire row to stretch out and sleep during the five-hour flight. We landed just minutes after midnight on New Year’s Day, and as we descended, the flight captain wished everyone a happy New Year over the intercom.

Anticipating that everything would be closed for the holiday, I had arranged a taxi and booked a cabin in advance at Overbridge Lodge—an old plantation turned resort community along the Suriname River. By the time we arrived, the streets were silent, and there was nothing to do but head straight to bed. Suriname’s strict Covid curfew required all businesses to close by 7 PM, and we had landed well past midnight.

50-year-old ruined cargo boat now abandoned and believed to be haunted.

In the morning, we explored Overbridge Lodge. While it was a bit rough around the edges and not as polished as its website suggested, we quickly grew to appreciate its relaxed, picturesque vibe. The staff was also incredibly welcoming, which added to the charm of the place.

After breakfast, our transport arrived to take us to Galibi, a remote Amerindian village along the French Guiana border. Arranging this transfer had been a challenge, given the New Year holiday and our short three-day timeframe. At one point, I considered renting a car and driving ourselves, which would have been manageable. However, since most of our journey involved traveling upriver, I preferred to avoid the added responsibility of managing a vehicle.

The infinity pool full of Suriname River water overlooking a 50-year-old ruined cargo boat now abandoned and believed to be haunted. 

Paramaribo

Old Dutch School in Paramaribo

My friend needed to withdraw cash, so we spent an hour driving from ATM to ATM, only to find that every machine was out of currency. With New Year being a popular time for locals to withdraw money, the banks had been emptied for the holiday.

As we drove through the old Dutch colonial city of Paramaribo, the streets were eerily quiet. The only sign of life was the congregation gathered for a New Year’s church service at St. Peter and Paul Cathedral, the tallest wooden church in the country. The historic city center, with its grand yet decaying Dutch-era buildings, was largely abandoned—its boarded-up facades telling stories of a past era, still beautiful in their slow surrender to time.

Old Dutch Neighborhoods

It was incredible to see so many colonial-era wooden buildings still standing. In the Caribbean Dutch Isles, similar structures would have been long destroyed by hurricanes, but Suriname’s location outside the hurricane belt has spared them from such fate. Instead, their greatest threats now are fire, termites, and decades of neglect.

Old Dutch Neighborhood

Colonial Era Wooden Church-St. Peter and Paul Cathedral

Old Paramaribo

After finally finding a working ATM, we began our long journey to the Carib Indian village of Galibi, still hundreds of miles away. Along the way, we crossed the Suriname River and spotted a half-sunken German freighter. The ship had been deliberately scuttled by its German crew during World War II to prevent it from falling into Dutch hands, as the Netherlands was at war with Germany. The crew eventually surrendered but only after ensuring their vessel would never be used against them.

German freighter sunk by its sailors during WWII

We traveled across one of the few trans-Suriname roads that lead to the border with French Guiana. The road was empty, and our driver stopped to grab a few beers. We toasted to the New Year and cracked open a drink right then and there. The driver and his friend conveniently kept two beers holstered in the cup holders on the dashboard as we continued our journey. What struck me as odd was that the police officers at the checkpoints we passed didn’t even seem to notice the open beers right next to the driver. While I wasn’t overly concerned—our driver wasn’t intoxicated, and as he pointed out, the beers weren’t strong—I still made a polite request to keep it at two beers for the rest of the ride.

River boats that the locals use to travel up the Marowijne River

We had a flat tire and pulled over into the driveway of a family descended from South India to repair it. Suriname is incredibly diverse, with a mix of ethnic groups—Indonesian, South Indian, African, Native Indian and more. Despite their different backgrounds, all communities speak Creole Dutch, creating a common thread that unites them. The family was kind enough to let us use their space while we fixed the tire, and it was a nice glimpse into the multicultural side of Suriname.

Traveling Upriver to Galibi Carib Ameri-Indian Village

View of the river

Dividing French Guiana and Suriname is the Marowijne River, which flows north and south along the border, cutting through virgin rainforest and swampland before spilling into the Atlantic Ocean near the Carib Indian village of Galibi, where we spent a night. We met our boatman and his young son in Albina, a gritty border town known for its Brazilian gold miners, prostitutes, and other rough elements. In my experience, every boatman has a young assistant, usually a son, helping out. We toasted to the New Year with a celebratory beer before heading upriver in the boat. But our journey didn’t go smoothly—soon after we set off, the motor died. We had to call over a mechanic who came to change the spark plugs, delaying us by about an hour.

Once the boat was running again, we headed up the river toward Galibi. The trip took two hours, passing through endless jungle. Along the way, our boat captain spotted a river dolphin, which was a rare sight. I took the opportunity to catch up on some sleep, waking up only to fend off splashing river waves as we continued on our journey.

Village Layout

Galibi is a quiet, remote tropical village of Carib Indians, accessible only by boat, with no roads leading in or out. The village is nestled between the Marowijne River and swamp forests, and it sits on one of the world’s most important nesting sites for giant leatherback and green turtles. Nearly half of the global population of leatherback turtles come here to lay their eggs along the long sandy beaches.

The village itself is a mix of rustic, ramshackle houses—some traditional, made of thatch, and others more modern with concrete. It stretches across sandy lots, dotted with tropical fruit trees, where colorful parrots and vultures often fly overhead. At high tide, the entire beach disappears, and waves powerful enough to destroy buildings sometimes crash against structures too close to the river’s edge.

The Carib people speak a mix of their native Carib language, Dutch, French, and some English. Their religious practices are a blend of traditional shamanistic beliefs and Catholicism. The village survives primarily through fishing and tourism, with visitors coming to witness sea turtles laying their eggs in the Wia Wia Reserve—an expansive wilderness area of deserted sandy beaches and coastal swamp forests to the north.

After arriving, we walked a short distance to our rustic rooms for the night. The guesthouse was simple—just a spring mattress, a sheet, and a pillow—and we dropped off our packs before heading out to explore the village on our own, without a guide.

Flocks of black vultures were a common sight along the river

A man’s pet parrot captured from the wild

Although Galibi was relaxed, and the people were friendly and kind, exploring the quaint village on our own would have been uncomfortable without a local guide. With our village guide, we walked along a sandy trail that wound between houses, greeting families who were gathered, sharing food and drinks to celebrate New Year’s. We made sure not to intrude, always respecting their privacy and taking in the peaceful atmosphere without disturbing the community’s festivities.

A fruit tree leaving colored seeds all across the ground

A village elder with a kind face

Village Houses

Bottles with water are placed on the tree as a traditional offering to the tree to help it grow. This is a common sight in the village

As I mentioned, it’s always best to explore a tribal village with a local guide, and this proved to be especially true in Galibi. This became clear when an intoxicated boy, drinking with his family, spotted us approaching. He became enraged and started yelling at us in the Carib Indian language. Our guide quickly intervened, calming him down and escorting him away from us. Later, we heard traditional music, which our guide explained was a shaman performing a ritual. Curious, we approached to get a closer look, only to be met by another irate and intoxicated youth who began yelling at us again. Sensing the tension, we backed off.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity to meet the shaman, we came up with a plan. We bought some beers from the village store and offered them as a peace offering. The strategy worked wonders. The mood shifted, and everyone—including the shaman—welcomed us into their circle, eager to share their rituals and traditions with us.

The shaman performing his ritual song

The shaman sat among a group of men, who were smoking a local plant that possibly had hallucinogenic properties, as he performed two songs for us. The first song was about the eagle, and the second was about the jaguar—both of which are sacred animals to the Carib people and considered spiritual guardians. With his maraca-like instrument in hand, he explained that these songs, along with the instrument, were spiritual weapons. Though they may seem simple, he emphasized, they were powerful and lethal to the enemy when he entered his spiritual trance.

Nearby, a local woman practiced traditional dance off to the side, wearing a handmade skirt. Her movements were fluid and graceful, adding a deeper layer to the ritual as the shaman’s voice and music filled the air. The scene was powerful and felt like a glimpse into a world steeped in ancient traditions, where song, dance, and spirit were intertwined.

Village graveyard

Church

Attemp at Watching Sea Turtles Nesting at Night

River Cove in Village

The sea turtle nesting season for Leatherback and Green turtles typically begins in February, but since turtles don’t follow strict schedules, there was still hope to catch an early arrival. I had seen both species laying eggs before on Bioko Island in Equatorial Guinea and loved the experience, so I was eager to witness it again in Suriname. As usual, during Covid, we were the only tourists in most places, and we would have the entire turtle beach to ourselves.

Since the tide had receded, leaving our boat stranded on dry land, we had to wait until late at night for it to return. Nighttime is when turtles are most active, and we were hopeful for a glimpse of them on the beach. The only local fisherman in town willing to take us on this adventure was also the most enthusiastic. According to him, the tide would be perfect around 10 pm. So, we tried to rest for a few hours before meeting the boat and heading to the turtle beach.

When we arrived at the boat, however, it was still sitting on dry land, hundreds of feet from the water. The fisherman, clearly intoxicated and surrounded by beer bottles, assured us everything was fine and insisted the tide would come in. We sat by the water, watching it remain stubbornly low as time stretched on. Hours passed, but the fisherman was unwavering, repeating, “I live here, I’m a fisherman, it’s coming.” Around 2 am, the tide finally rushed in just as he had said, but much later than anticipated.

Eager to finally head out, we stepped into the boat, which had about 1-2 feet of water inside. The fisherman, unconcerned, shrugged it off saying, “It’s a wooden boat, it always leaks.” We pushed off into deeper waters, and he tried starting the engine. It sputtered for a few seconds but failed to catch. After 30 minutes of repeated efforts, it became clear that the engine had flooded, and it was no longer functional. The fisherman admitted that the motor would need to be disassembled in the morning, and our plans for turtle watching were dashed.

Defeated, we returned to the village and went to bed, sadly never making it to the turtle nesting beach. The experience was a reminder that not everything goes according to plan, but there’s still beauty in the unpredictability of travel.

Kids playing in the river near the village

Day 2: Given that we hadn’t slept properly for the last two nights, we took advantage of the opportunity to sleep in until 10 am. By the time we woke up, the tide had shifted, giving us a brief window to leave the village and head back to Albina. We quickly gathered our things and set off down the river, hoping to make it back before the tide turned again.

Our boat, Jimmie and the boat man’s son as we departed the village

On our way to Albina, we made a detour to visit the old French colonial-era prison in Saint Laurent, French Guiana. The prison, once notorious for its brutal conditions, had housed political prisoners and notorious criminals, including many who were sent to the infamous Devil’s Island.  It was a haunting yet fascinating stop that gave us a glimpse into a darker chapter of colonial history.

After our visit to Saint Laurent and a brief but unsuccessful attempt to break into the old French prison (an adventure in its own right), we made our way back to Suriname with a quick boat ride. To cap off the trip, we had a few more celebratory beers with our driver and the boat crew, soaking in the good vibes before we set off on the 2-hour drive back to Paramaribo.

Once in the city, Jimmie and I opted for a central hotel, landing on the Royal Torarica Hotel. To our surprise, it turned out to be much more upscale than we expected, complete with an MTV-style pool party and a DJ blasting rave music—quite a contrast to the laid-back vibe of our previous destinations. But the hotel was in a great location, within walking distance of restaurants, the old town, and conveniently close to the Covid testing center where we needed to go for our rapid test the next morning.

Old wooden houses in Paramaribo that are a patchwork of interesting colors and different types of wood

Day 3: I had arranged a trip for us to the Brownsberg Amazon Rainforest Reserve, which would require a 4WD vehicle to reach. Our driver picked us up in the morning, and we set off on the journey. On the way, we made a stop to get our mandatory Covid test, which was required for our return to the USA later that evening.

The nice part about the test center was that it was located in a residential neighborhood, and as we walked around waiting for the results, I couldn’t help but admire the beautiful little wooden houses scattered throughout the area. They had a charming, simple feel that I found really appealing—definitely a side of Suriname that I hadn’t expected to experience.

Paramaribo Houses

More old houses

Amazon Rainforest-Brownsberg Reserve

From Paramaribo, we set off for the Brownsberg Reserve, which was a few hours’ drive into the interior. The reserve is nestled within a rainforest that surrounds the mountains and a flooded stretch of the Suriname River, a result of the hydroelectric dam construction along the river. This flooded area has created a unique environment, and the rainforest is known for its rich concentration of wildlife, including jaguars, monkeys, and many other species.

One theory I found interesting was that the flooding from the dam displaced a lot of the wildlife from the previously forested areas, forcing many of them to take refuge in the reserve. This has led to Brownsberg becoming a hotspot for wildlife, making it an exciting destination for nature lovers and wildlife enthusiasts.

Rough 4wd roads into the reserve

View from a mountain top

Poison dart frog

The road into the Brownsberg Reserve was definitely a challenge. There were parts where we weren’t sure if we’d make it through without getting stuck in the mud, but it added to the adventure. As soon as we entered the reserve, the rainforest quickly enveloped us. The towering trees seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky, and we were treated to sights of howler and spider monkeys swinging gracefully through the canopies, high above us.

After checking in with the ranger, we set off on a 3-hour hike to explore some of the waterfalls in the area. It was a beautiful trek, with the forest offering glimpses of wildlife along the way, from colorful birds to insects scurrying along the forest floor.

However, we also came across signs of the destruction that gold mining has caused to the reserve. We saw the remnants of massive gold mining caves, abandoned and left for bats and snakes to reclaim. It was a stark reminder of the damage that mining, particularly mercury pollution and deforestation, has inflicted on the surrounding Amazon. Sadly, these illegal activities continue to encroach on the reserve, making the need for conservation even more urgent.

Jimmie at Leaova Falls

A leaf frog barely visible hidden in the leaf litter

Howler monkey throwing sticks at us

Beautiful insect

We had a close call with some angry spider monkeys that dive-bombed us near the waterfalls, making me think a tree was crashing down on us. Jimmie tried to venture into a gold mine but quickly bolted when he disturbed some bats. Brownsberg Reserve turned out to be a great day trip—we saw a lot of wildlife and had an enjoyable time. After a late lunch, our driver dropped us off at the Overbridge Resort, conveniently located next to the airport. We spent the next six hours relaxing there before our 2 a.m. flight to Miami.

Jimmie trying to explore a Gold mine before being attacked by bats and running out of the cave screaming 

Huge rainforest tree

3 + 5 =