It is thought that the earliest inhabitants of the islands were journeymen from Indonesia-Polynesia, but traces of this original Asian culture have blended seamlessly into successive waves of African, Arab and Shirazi immigrants. The most notable of these early immigrants were the Shirazi Arab royal clans, who appeared in Comoros in the 15th and 16th centuries and stayed to build mosques, set up royal house and introduce architecture and carpentry.

In 1529 the French Parmentier brothers popped in for a visit, but the first reliable European accounts of this part of the world came from the Portuguese explorers, Diego Dias and Ferdinand Soares. The Portuguese failed to capitalise on being the first to reach the islands, and for the next century or two the islands were used only as a pit stop during voyages up and down the coast of East Africa. In fact, up until the middle of the 19th century, it was not European explorers but pirates from Madagascar who caused the biggest headaches. During this time the number of sultans mushroomed at an alarming rate, and at one stage there were no fewer than 12 sultans on the island of Grande Comore alone. This is one sultan per 100 sq km (39 sq mi), or, put another way, three squabbling sultans per New York City, which, in anybody's language, is two sultans too many.

From the 15th century to the middle of the 19th, the power brokers happily played musical sultanates between themselves until the French turned their attention to the Comoros islands in the middle of the 19th century. The French finally acquired the islands through a cunning mixture of strategies, including the divide and conquer ploy, chequebook politics and a serendipitous affair between a sultana and a French trader that was turned to good use. Comoros history from this era reads like a cross between a Walt Disney animated film, a Merchant Ivory production and a Shakespearean tragedy. Through all the ups and downs, the French kept an iron grip on the islands, quelling peasant unrest and the occasional uprising.

Independence came gradually for Comoros. During the middle of the 20th century the French reluctantly began to accede to reasonable requests, and by 1947 Comoros had become a separately administered colony from Madagascar. In 1961 it was granted autnomous rule and, seven years after the global unrest and left-wing riots of '68, Comoros had broken all ties with France and established an independent republic. From the very beginning Mayotte refused to join the new republic and wed themselves even more firmly to French protection, but the other islands remained committed to independence. The French stepped out of the way, taking the infrastructure and financial resources with them, and watched as the whole house of cards came tumbling down. The first president of Comoros, Ahmed Abdallah Abderemane, lasted a political nanosecond before being ousted in a coup by Ali Solih, an atheist with an Islamic background.

Solih began with a set of solid socialist ideals that were designed to take the islands kicking and screaming into the 20th century, and bury a moribund society that annointed the wealthy and privileged as its apparatchiks. Property was nationalised, womens' veils came off and costly

But this being Comoros, leaders being leaders, and mercenaries being mercenaries, things did not go smoothly for Abdallah. In the four years between 1985 and 1989 there were no less than five coup attempts, all of them, bar one, being quelled by the mercenaries. The last one ended with the assassination of Abdallah by his bodyguards, and there were whispers of scorpions following their nature with Dénard's involvement in the plot being far from clear. In 1990, Saïd Mohamed Djohar became the first freely elected president of the Comoros but this was followed by another round of coups and countercoups as mercenaries, rebels and government troops all joined in the melée.

When the dust finally settled in late 1992 Djohar was re-elected president but had to survive yet another coup attempt led by his old nemesis, Dénard. The present incumbents, President Tadjidine Ben Said Massounde and Prime Minister Abbas Djoussouf, have, so far, not had to deal with the man sometimes referred to as the 'White Devil' but they've had troubles of their own. Both the islands of Anjouan and Mohéli declared independence in 1997, leaving Grande Comore as the sole remnant of the glorious Comoros republic.

After Comoros President Abdoukarim died in November 1998, the political vacuum began attracting a slew of slick characters, including interim President Majidine Ben Said Massonde and several secessionists trying to take advantage of the fuss to further their own political agendas. The Organization of African Unity (OAU) stepped in and attempted to broker a peace accord, but Anjouan's leadership would have no part of it. The military, which had been doing most of the dying during this political polka, finally installed Colonel Azaly Assoumani in a bloodless coup, dissolved the constitution and reopened talks with the OAU in July 1999.

The dramas haven't taken pause in the last couple of years: in August 2001, a military government took power on the island of Anjouan, planning to rejoin it with Comoros; plans were almost foiled by yet another coup attempt three months later. In December 2001 voters indicated that the trio of islands should remain one country, but each should be allowed more autonomy. April 2002 elections put Colonel Mohamed Bacar in the leader's seat for Anjouan and Mohamed Said Fazul as the man in charge of Moheli. Fingers are crossed for a coup-less future.

Comorans have an ethnic hybridity typical of island nations; they're a vibrant blend of African mainlanders, Malay-Polynesians (or Malagasy), Arab traders and Shirazi Persians. Distinct minority groups include the Antalotes, Sakalava and Creoles, but the dominant religious group is Sunni Islam, descended from Shiraz Persians. Although alcohol is forbidden and the place chock-a-block with mosques, the daily calls to prayer are not as loud or dominant as in other Islamic countries, and traces of animism can still be seen in the belief in malevolent djinns. Women dress modestly, but the custom of purdah has been largely abandoned in favour of colourful saris, or chiromani. Comoran women are particularly fond of a yellowish paste made from sandalwood and coral (m'sidzanou) and applied to the face as either a full mask or in a dappled pattern.

The architecture alone would warrant a visit to Comoros. In the old Arab Quarter, or medina, Comoros' Swahili origins come to life, with two-storey buildings that bristle with arcades, balustrades, meticulously carved wooden latticework doors and shutters. It's a look that's got that whole exotic Zanzibar thing happening. These elaborate buildings are in contrast to the bangas, most often found on Mayotte. Bangas are ramshackle sheds constructed by teenage boys - a place away from the eyes and ears of parents - and are individually postered, graffitied and decorated, in the manner of rebellious and misunderstood teenagers the world over.

A unique Cormoran tradition is the grande mariage which translates as, yes, the Big Wedding. But we're talking more than just yards of frou-frou and taffeta, and a ten-tier wedding cake here. We're talking big. We're talking bigger than Ben Hur. It's usually a prearranged union between an older man and a younger woman, and the man must pay for the two- to nine-day public festivity (toirab) that caters for the entire village. He's also expected to buy an expensive dowry for his bride, which can include precious clothing, gold and jewellery. The wedding will often leave the groom in financial ruin for the rest of his life, but the villagers will, ironically enough, confer wisdom and status upon him for the doing. As compensation for his remaining life of poverty, he gets to wear a special sash m'ruma, which signifies his status as a wandruwadzima or grand notable. The grande mariage is reserved for the more elite members of the society, and is used to mark their social and political standing.

Comoran cuisine is a blend of Indian, Arabic, French and African cooking. Most standard meals include a combination of rice and meat, beefed up with any of the locally produced spices such as vanilla, cardoman, coriander, cloves, nutmeg and cinnamon. Fish and seafood, such as tuna, grouper and octopus, get used in a lot of meals, along with other meats like chicken, goat and mutton. The combination of French cuisine and fresh, cheap local produce makes Comoros a gourmand's paradise, particularly for French travellers. If you're not on a tight budget, splash out and try the local delicacy at least once: langouste àla vanille is lobster cooked in vanilla sauce.