What is it?

Jamestown is the tiny capital of Saint Helena, a British Overseas Territory adrift some 1,200 miles from the nearest continent — and arguably the most charming, improbable town on Earth. Wedged into a steep-sided ravine so narrow that the whole settlement is essentially one long street, it unfurls from a black-sand seafront through an 18th-century arched gateway and moat into a ribbon of Georgian townhouses, a whitewashed castle, St James' Church (the oldest Anglican church in the Southern Hemisphere), and shopfronts that look untouched since the days of the East India Company. Sheer rust-red cliffs loom overhead, mynah birds squabble in the flamboyant trees, and the whole valley smells of salt, frangipani and fresh bread from the bakery. Rising up the eastern cliff face is Jacob's Ladder, a dizzying 699-step staircase built in 1829, a rite of passage for every visitor. This was Napoleon's world after Waterloo — he landed here in 1815 — and the island's history of exile, whaling, slavery-suppression squadrons and Boer War prisoners is written into its walls, while its 4,500 'Saints' offer some of the warmest, most genuine hospitality anywhere.

Where is it?

Jamestown sits on the northwest coast of Saint Helena, a volcanic speck in the South Atlantic roughly midway between Africa and South America, about 1,200 miles west of Angola. Weekly Airlink flights arrive from Johannesburg (via Windhoek) into Saint Helena Airport, a 20-minute drive from town over the moon-like Deadwood Plain. The island is pleasantly subtropical year-round; December to April is warmest and best for swimming with whale sharks, while July to September brings cooler, greener weather and the chance of humpbacks offshore.

What makes it worth it?

Few places on the planet still feel genuinely far away — Jamestown does. Stepping through the town's stone archway is like walking into a Jane Austen novel that has somehow been dropped in the middle of the ocean, and the sense of privilege at simply being somewhere so hard to reach is intoxicating. Visitors talk endlessly about the people: strangers stopping their cars to offer lifts, everyone greeting everyone, a place where locking your door feels faintly absurd. Climb Jacob's Ladder at dawn, lungs burning, and the reward is the whole valley laid out beneath you with the Atlantic stretching to an empty horizon — a memory that never fades. Add Napoleon's tomb and Longwood House, endemic wirebirds, cloud forest walks and the world's oldest known living land animal (Jonathan the tortoise, born around 1832), and you have an island that feels like several countries compressed into 47 square miles. 'I came for a week and wanted to stay forever' is the single most common thing travellers say when they leave.

How accessible is it?

Physically, Jamestown itself is easy — flat, walkable and compact — though the surrounding terrain is steep and Jacob's Ladder demands decent fitness and a head for heights. The real challenge is logistical and financial: with only around 3,000–5,000 visitors a year, getting there means a Saturday flight from Johannesburg costing roughly £900–£1,300 return, booked months ahead as seats are limited. No visa is required for most nationalities, but an entry permit is issued on arrival and proof of accommodation, onward travel and comprehensive medical insurance is mandatory. On-island costs are moderate: guesthouses and self-catering from about £50–£90 per night, hotels up to £150, meals £8–£20, and car hire around £40 a day (highly recommended, though taxis and a limited bus service exist). Bring cash or expect to use the Bank of St Helena — the local pound is pegged to sterling, card acceptance is patchy and internet, while much improved since the arrival of fibre, is not what you're used to. Plan at least 7–10 days; the flight schedule makes anything shorter difficult and the island deserves far more.