Salina of Santa Maria is an easy walk (better by bike) among salt crystals, wind and sun-reflecting pools. Part free, part paid (around €6) to float. Facilities can be uneven and showers run on coins. Best visited late afternoon.
When you go “for a short walk” and end up with salt in your eyelashes
In Santa Maria, some walks start innocently enough: flip-flops, a half-optimistic bottle of water, and the idea of “just having a look”. Then the Salina appears and suddenly you’re walking across a blinding white surface that reflects the sun like it has a personal issue with you, while the wind pushes your head toward the Atlantic.
A salty landscape in two speeds
The Salina is what Google Maps calls an “attraction” and the island translates as a half-wild, half-managed open area. On one side, free-access paths where you can wander among salt crystals, shallow pools and dirt tracks. On the other, a more “official” section where you pay to enter, change clothes and float in brine like a very relaxed human cork.
It works very well if you come curious and ready to walk. If you’re expecting a spotless site with clear historical explanations and flawless services… this is where acceptance becomes a useful skill.
What you do (and what people keep mentioning)
The routine is simple: walk around, take photos because the colours look oddly unreal (in a good way), and if you feel like it, get into the water. Floating is not a myth here — the salt density does the work for you, whether you help or not.
There’s also the “practical souvenir” option: in some areas, salt is prepared for visitors to take away, usually for a small donation or fee (figures like €2 are often mentioned). It’s oddly satisfying — a souvenir that won’t break in your luggage, just slowly try to take it over.
Silence, wind, and the loose-euro system
The atmosphere is generally calm, especially outside peak hours. The dominant sound is the wind, which here isn’t just weather — it’s a main character.
In the paid area, logistics come with a gentle “welcome to reality” note: entrance is around €6, and showers work on coins — €1 for 30 seconds. In other words, you don’t shower: you invest. Cash is a good idea, as card payments are not always as straightforward as you’d hope.
“It’s not slow. It’s Cape Verdean. And it’s windy.”
What can spoil the walk
A few issues come up repeatedly when things fall short: very basic facilities with bathrooms that sometimes smell or feel poorly maintained, limited options at the bar (more “emergency snacks” than proper breaks), and organisation that feels questionable for the price if you’re only floating for 20 minutes.
Then there’s the walk in. If you come on foot from Santa Maria, you’ll pass through local neighbourhoods with construction sites, ruins and the occasional informal dumping area. It’s not pretty, but it’s a fairly honest snapshot of what exists beyond the hotel strip. For some, it breaks the mood; for others, it’s part of understanding the place.
There’s also plastic around. Not everywhere, not all the time — but enough to remind you that this isn’t just a local issue. It’s a global one.
How to enjoy it without arguing with the place
— Go after 4 pm: less heat, better light, and the walk becomes far more reasonable.
— Bring more water than you think you’ll need. The sun shows no mercy here.
— Keep cash handy: between entrance, showers and small payments, loose euros rule.
— If you swim, assume you’ll want a shower… and that the shower has an emotional stopwatch.
— Bike or scooter is easier; walking works too, but the route isn’t “pretty” all the way.
Cape Verde without filters, for better and for worse
The Salina has that rare charm of places that don’t try to please you. It offers striking landscapes, silence, strange colours and the feeling of standing somewhere that once did real work. It also gives you wind, heat, small discomforts and slightly questionable organisation if you pay for the “premium” section.
Come with reasonable expectations and it’s a very good walk. Come expecting a salt spa, and you may want to take a deep breath… which, to be fair, the wind will provide.
The Salina is beautiful, yes. But above all, it’s honest. And in Santa Maria, that counts.
