Tag: Africa

Ol Donyo Lodge – Kilimanjaro’s Wild Shadow

Posted on by James

There are places in Africa that feel like they were designed by accident — where some ancient geological tantrum threw up a landscape so unlikely, so otherworldly, that the brain takes a moment to catch up with the eyes. The Chyulu Hills are one such place. Born of volcanic activity relatively recently (in geological terms), their dark lava rock and improbably green slopes rise from the semi-arid plains of southern Kenya like something out of a half-remembered dream, and it was Hemingway himself who is said to have been so moved by them that he described them as the most beautiful hills in Africa. High praise from a man who spent a good deal of time on the continent.

Ol Donyo Lodge sits within this landscape as if it has always been there. Constructed from the same raw lava rock that surrounds it, thatched and open to the mountain breeze, it neither announces itself nor apologises for its presence. It simply belongs. The architects behind its design understood something that many lodges get wrong: that a building should earn its place in a wild space, not impose upon it. Here, the walls feel like an extension of the earth itself.

But what strikes most guests isn’t the architecture at all. It’s what lies beyond it. From almost any vantage point at Ol Donyo, the great white dome of Kilimanjaro floats on the southern horizon — half in cloud, half in sky — an apparition so perfect it seems almost staged. At dawn, when the light is still hesitant and the air carries the cool of the night just past, there are few more arresting sights on the continent.

What sets Ol Donyo apart from many of its contemporaries, however, is an emphasis on getting out. The vehicle is a starting point, not the destination. Guests are actively encouraged to ride on horseback across the open plains, to walk the volcanic ridgelines with an expert guide, to feel the red earth of Maasai country underfoot rather than simply passing over it behind glass. There is a fundamental philosophy at work here — that Africa is most deeply felt when experienced with all the senses, and that the best way to truly understand a landscape is to move through it slowly, on its own terms.

The 275,000-acre Mbirikani Group Ranch on which the lodge sits is Maasai land, and that matters. It means that when the lions roar at night, or a herd of elephants drifts past in the half-light of morning, the people who have called this land home for generations are the ones who benefit most from that encounter. The conservation work supported by every stay here — including the protection of some of the last wild-roaming black rhinos in Kenya — is not a brochure footnote. It is woven into the very fabric of the place.

Nights at Ol Donyo can be spent beneath open African skies on the rooftop star beds — an experience that has a quiet way of resetting one’s perspective completely. There is something about lying under a canopy of stars in a landscape this ancient and this alive that reminds you, without any fanfare whatsoever, of exactly where you stand in the order of things.

Which, it turns out, is a remarkably good place to be.

On The Rock – Lamai Serengeti, Tanzania

Posted on by James

The Serengeti needs no introduction. Its name alone is enough to conjure something — a golden expanse of grass, a sky stacked with cloud, the distant rumble of a million wildebeest moving as if the plains themselves had come briefly alive. Most people know the Serengeti before they’ve ever seen it, and most people experience it from somewhere in its vast and well-travelled centre.

The northern reaches are different. Quieter in vehicle traffic, bolder in topography, and framed to the north by the Mara River — the final barrier in the wildebeest’s annual circuit, where crocodiles the size of dining tables wait with a patience that can only be described as geological. The Kogatende region up here feels, in some important way, less curated than the rest. More indifferent. More itself.

Lamai Serengeti sits on the Kogakuria Kopje — an ancient granite outcrop that rises from the surrounding plains and offers, from its highest points, a view of the Serengeti that the ground simply cannot provide. The camp was designed to inhabit the kopje rather than conquer it, with massive boulders becoming walls and room dividers, the rock itself doing half the architect’s work. Sitting on a veranda here, with the Mara River valley spread below you and the horizon running uninterrupted in every direction, the effect is that of an accidental observatory — one that has been in place, in one form or another, since long before anyone thought to build on it.

Walking is central to the Lamai experience, and the kopje is ideal terrain for it. Between July and October, when the short grass plains are open and the wildebeest are moving north, guests on foot can work within surprisingly close range of animals that would bolt at the sound of an engine. The kopje itself, threaded with paths that wind through ancient granite formations and patches of shade, reveals a miniature world of lizards and birds and plant life that a vehicle would crush without noticing. Down on the plains below, the scale shifts entirely.


Those same months bring the Migration river crossings, twenty minutes from camp — one of the more extraordinary things that nature produces on a regular schedule. Tens of thousands of wildebeest gathering at the bank, surging forward in a wave of collective decision-making that seems both impossible and inevitable at once, the crocodiles below cutting through the chaos with a terrible efficiency. It is the kind of spectacle that stays with people for the rest of their lives, and Lamai’s position on the Kogakuria Kopje places guests closer to it than almost anywhere else in the Serengeti.


The furniture is locally made, the food sourced from within the country, the guiding among the finest in East Africa. These things matter. But what Lamai really offers is simpler than any of it: a rock, a view, and a landscape old enough to make even the Great Migration — that ancient, ceaseless turning of the wheel — feel like something happening right on schedule.

 

Why Safari Photographers Build Their Day Around Light

Posted on by James

Spend enough time on safari, and a pattern begins to emerge. The early mornings feel sharper, the late afternoons seem to stretch, and the middle of the day, while still beautiful, lacks a certain depth that is difficult to define.

The difference is light.

Golden hour, that brief window just after sunrise and before sunset, is when the landscape changes most completely. It is not simply softer light, but more directional light. It creates contrast, reveals texture, and gives shape to scenes that might otherwise feel flat.

In Africa, this transformation is particularly pronounced. Dust suspended in the air catches the light and holds it, creating a warm glow that softens edges and adds atmosphere. Grass reflects gold instead of white. Water becomes a mirror, carrying colour and movement rather than glare. Even familiar scenes begin to feel layered and dimensional.

Wildlife responds to this shift as well. Predators move more actively in cooler temperatures, using lower light to their advantage. Herbivores feed and travel, taking advantage of reduced exposure. Birds fill the air, adding motion and sound to a landscape that can feel still during harsher hours.

For photographers, this creates both opportunity and responsibility. Golden hour is not a time to react, but a time to anticipate. You begin to think about where the light will fall, how a subject will move through it, and what the background will contribute to the image. Positioning becomes critical. A small adjustment can change everything.

And then, just as quickly, it disappears. The sun rises higher or drops below the horizon, shadows shorten, and the landscape returns to something more neutral. Still beautiful, still compelling, but without the same depth or intensity.

This is why safari days are built around light. Early mornings are not about discipline. They are about access. Late afternoons are not just for sundowners. They are about holding onto the last usable light before it fades completely.

Because when light, subject, and timing align, the result is more than a photograph. It is a moment that carries atmosphere, emotion, and memory all at once.

It is also about patience, about waiting longer than feels necessary for something that may never happen. It is about trusting the process of light and behaviour to eventually meet. Sometimes they do, and sometimes they do not. But when they do, the image holds something far greater than the moment itself. It holds the feeling of being present in a place that is constantly shifting and entirely alive.

Singita Sasakwa Lodge – Where the Serengeti Wears a Silk Jacket

Posted on by James

Some safari camps feel like they belong to the wilderness. Singita Sasakwa feels like the wilderness decided it deserved a manor house.

Set high on the Sasakwa Hill in Singita Grumeti, this is the Serengeti with its collar pressed, its shoes polished, and its Martini served at exactly the right temperature. But don’t let the elegance fool you — you’re still in one of Africa’s wildest theatres, and the action below is anything but refined.

From the moment you arrive, Sasakwa has a certain old-world confidence. The architecture nods to grand estates and colonial-era romance, but without the stiffness. It’s expansive, warm, and quietly indulgent: long verandas, wide views, and interiors that invite you to sprawl rather than perch. The infinity pool looks out over plains that seem to go on forever, and if you’ve ever wanted to watch a storm roll across the Serengeti while wrapped in luxury, this is the place to do it.

And then there’s the safari.

Singita Grumeti is private, which means the experience has a freedom to it that’s increasingly rare. No traffic jams of vehicles. No radio chatter chaos. Just your guide, your curiosity, and a landscape that reveals itself at its own pace. One moment you’re tracking lions through grass that looks like it’s been brushed into place; the next you’re watching a leopard melt into the shadows of a riverine thicket as if it was never there at all.

If you time it right, you also have the Great Migration in your orbit — the kind of spectacle that makes you realise nature is capable of excess. Thousands of wildebeest, zebra, dust, noise, urgency. And then, later, back at Sasakwa, everything slows again. A bath with a view. A drink on the lawn. A dinner that feels like a private event, even when it’s simply your own table under the stars.

Sasakwa is for travellers who love the romance of safari, but also appreciate the finer things: space, service, and the luxury of feeling entirely unhurried. It’s the Serengeti, yes — but it’s the Serengeti dressed for the occasion.

Nyamatusi Camp: Where Mana Pools Casts Its Spell

Posted on by James

Certain landscapes feel like they’ve drifted out of a dream, and Mana Pools is one of them — a place where blue-washed woodlands melt into slow water, where elephants stand on hind legs to reach ana pods, and where light behaves in ways photographers still can’t adequately explain. Nyamatusi Camp sits in the heart of this enchantment, offering front-row seats to one of Africa’s most atmospheric wildernesses.

Set along a remote curve of the Zambezi River, Nyamatusi’s tented suites are luxurious in a way that never breaks the spell of the environment. Interiors are warm, rich and tactile — brass, canvas, leather — but always with the river in view, always with the forest whispering just beyond the deck. This is the kind of camp where wildlife walks through your field of vision rather than being something you go out to find.

Activities lean into Mana’s slow, immersive energy. Walking safaris take you through cathedral-like woodlands where every shaft of light feels choreographed. It’s not unusual to round a grove and find an elephant calmly feeding at arm’s length, acknowledging you with the faintest ear-flick before returning to its breakfast. Canoeing is equally magical — drifting between hippo channels, listening to water lap against the bow, watching the shoreline shift like an unfolding watercolor.

Game drives capture Mana at its most instinctively wild: painted wolves trotting along riverbeds, lions dozing in delicate shade, nyala moving like brushstrokes through the trees. Yet the mood here is never rushed. The forest encourages softness, attentiveness, breathing room.

Evenings are all glow — lanterns, campfire sparks, the quiet hum of the river. It’s the kind of place where guests become loyalists, and loyalists become evangelists.

Nyamatusi doesn’t just show you Mana Pools. It lets the place seep into your bones.

Jao Camp: Let the Water Teach You to Slow Down

Posted on by James

Most safaris begin with a map: roads, tracks, loops and river crossings. Jao Camp begins with a different philosophy — let the water decide. The Okavango Delta is famously unpredictable, rising and receding at its own whim, turning woodlands into lagoons and plains into mirror-smooth channels. Jao doesn’t fight this; it reveres it. And guests very quickly learn to do the same.

From the moment you arrive, elevated walkways signal the shift in perspective. You move through palm islands at tree-crown level, brushing past birdlife that seems only mildly surprised by your presence. Suites are generous to the point of indulgence — private decks, plunge pools, gauzy interiors that glow softly in Delta light — but nothing feels showy. Everything serves one quiet purpose: to invite you to unwind.

The rhythm here is governed entirely by water. When the flood is high, mokoro excursions become poetry in motion — a silent glide past lilies, reed frogs, jacanas stepping delicately across floating leaves. Boat outings open up the wider channels, sometimes revealing elephants swimming in slow motion, or a fish eagle perched in just the right shaft of light. When the waters pull back, game drives explore floodplains now etched with fresh tracks: lions, leopards, wild dogs, and the occasional sable giving you a regal once-over.

One of Jao’s most underrated luxuries is its sense of spaciousness — not in size, but in tempo. There’s permission here to move slowly. To linger in the hide while storm clouds bruise the horizon. To surrender to an afternoon spa treatment because thunder murmuring across the water feels like the day’s natural metronome. To enjoy dinner on the deck by lantern-light, listening to lechwe splashing distantly in the shallows.

Some camps help you see wildlife. Jao helps you feel the Delta. And in doing so, it becomes less a safari destination and more a gentle recalibration — a reminder that life is richer when you let nature set the pace.

Singita Kwitonda: Where the Path to the Gorillas Begins

Posted on by James

Some journeys announce themselves loudly: roaring waterfalls, thundering hooves, sweeping plains. Others begin in a whisper — a curl of mist drifting across a volcanic slope, a soft crackle of bamboo, a quiet exhale in the forest as a mountain gorilla meets your gaze. Singita Kwitonda Lodge exists for that kind of journey: the kind that stays with you long after your boots are clean and your heartbeat has settled.

Built on the edge of Rwanda’s Volcanoes National Park, Kwitonda doesn’t feel placed in the landscape so much as grown from it. The lodge’s architecture — timber walkways, lava-stone walls, huge panes of glass framing the volcanoes — creates a feeling of being held inside the ecosystem rather than observing it. It’s soft-spoken luxury: fireplaces quietly glowing, deep sofas encouraging you to sink rather than sit, and staff who anticipate your needs with the gentleness of people who understand the emotional weight of a gorilla trek.

That trek is the axis on which every day turns. Mornings begin early with rich Rwandan coffee, boots waiting, gaiters neatly arranged, and a palpable sense of anticipation humming through the air. Guides brief you with the kind of calm, precise storytelling that turns nerves into excitement. And then you’re walking — into a forest that feels ancient, alive, and almost sentient.

The encounter itself is often described as moving, profound, transformative. What’s remarkable about Kwitonda is how it holds you after that experience. You return mud-splattered, wide-eyed, and slightly overwhelmed, and without a single forced word, the lodge creates space for reflection. A hot shower, a warm drink, the quiet crackle of a fire — these aren’t amenities; they’re invitations to process what just happened.

In the end, the true luxury of Kwitonda is its deep respect for the moment you’re here to have. It doesn’t compete with the gorillas. It doesn’t rush you past them. It simply builds a sanctuary around the most extraordinary hour you may ever spend in nature.

Mwiba Lodge: Where the Wild Moves Quietly Around You

Posted on by James

There are lodges that place you in the bush, and then there are lodges that make you feel as though the bush has quietly rearranged itself to accommodate you. Mwiba Lodge, set on a private concession bordering the southern Serengeti, does exactly that. It’s a sanctuary of ancient granite boulders, desert-rose trees, and soft, effortless luxury — all suspended above a landscape where wildlife drifts past as naturally as weather.

Mwiba’s architecture is a masterclass in restraint. Timber decks stretch between giant boulders, suites float above the riverine canopy, and the interiors lean into earth tones that feel lifted from the soil itself. Nothing shouts. Nothing intrudes. It’s as if the designers asked the land for permission, and the land gave a gentle nod.

The concession is vast — 130,000 acres of rolling hills, rock outcrops, woodlands, and secret springs. This is the Serengeti without the rush, a private universe where lions pad through the acacia shadows, leopards slip between granite slabs, and elephants wander through the corridors of light that open at dawn. In season, migratory herds move across the reserve like shifting weather; even when the plains fall quiet, Mwiba’s year-round water sources pull life in from every direction.

Safari days here favour depth over speed. Walk with expert guides among ancient kopjes, sit quietly at natural springs as kudu and zebra approach, or follow the soft architecture of tracks along the sand. Drives feel unhurried, as though time itself has stretched to match the pace of the wilderness. And when you return to the lodge, there’s always a sense of calm waiting for you — cool stone, wide views, the hum of the breeze across your deck.

As night folds in, Mwiba becomes a symphony of small sounds: frogs in the riverbed, fire crackling softly, distant hyenas threading their laughter across the hills. Sundowners turn into lantern-lit dinners, and the sky spills more stars than seems mathematically reasonable.

Mwiba isn’t just a lodge; it’s a feeling — of space, of silence, of being held by a landscape older than memory. It’s the Serengeti softened, elevated, and distilled into something quietly magnificent.

Little Kulala: Where Silence Learns to Shine

Posted on by James

There are landscapes that feel sculpted. And then there are landscapes like Namibia’s Sossusvlei, where the earth seems to have spent a few million years deciding on the perfect curve of a dune before finally signing its name in sand. It’s here, on a private reserve bordering the iconic Namib-Naukluft, that you’ll find Little Kulala — a lodge so seamlessly woven into its surroundings that it feels less built and more exhaled by the desert itself.

Little Kulala is a study in understatement. Its suites are soft, pale, and impossibly serene — all timber, linen, and clean geometry. They’re the kind of spaces where even time seems to walk more quietly, padding across the floor in bare feet. Private plunge pools shimmer in the heat, rooftop starbeds invite late-night sky worship, and every window frames a view that looks suspiciously like a carefully composed photograph.

But the real magic, as always in Namibia, happens outside the walls.

Mornings begin with air cool enough to make your coffee feel philosophical. The journey into the dunes is a slow unfurling: pastel light, long shadows, oryx silhouettes gliding across the horizon like punctuation marks in an unfinished poem. Climb Big Daddy or Dune 45 if you want a challenge; wander the fossilised trees of Dead Vlei if you want perspective. Either way, the desert has a knack for reminding you how vast the world is — and how refreshing it can be to feel wonderfully small.

Wildlife here is subtle by design. A brown hyena’s tracks etch the sand. A springbok drifts through a mirage haze. A lone ostrich appears exactly where you didn’t expect it, then pretends it meant to be there all along. It’s not a place of abundance; it’s a place of presence.

Back at Little Kulala, afternoons melt into golden silence. Perhaps you retreat to your deck with a book you barely open. Perhaps you sink into your pool while the desert rearranges its colours one degree at a time. Evenings bring lanternlight, deep tranquillity, and stars that seem to multiply just to show off.

Little Kulala is luxury distilled — minimalism with meaning, privacy without pretence, and landscapes so unfiltered they feel almost spiritual. It’s not a place you visit so much as a place that quietly rewrites the rhythm inside you.

Grootbos: Where the Secret Garden Goes Global

Posted on by James

Recognition tends to find those who aren’t chasing it. So it feels fitting that Grootbos Private Nature Reserve, a property defined by restraint and regeneration rather than self-promotion, has just been named 5th in Condé Nast Traveler’s Readers’ Choice Awards for South Africa’s Top 15 Resorts.

Tucked between mountain and sea near Gansbaai, Grootbos has always felt slightly out of category — too wild to be a vineyard retreat, too elegant to be called an eco-lodge. It’s its own species entirely: a place where the word luxury is defined less by opulence and more by intention.

The reserve protects over 2,500 hectares of fynbos, one of the world’s most biodiverse floral kingdoms, and its story has always been as much about what grows outside the rooms as what’s inside them. Suites open onto views where the ocean feels stitched to the sky; the air carries the faint honey scent of proteas; and the architecture — all glass, timber, and understatement — feels designed not to compete, but to frame.

Condé Nast readers have long rewarded beauty, but here they’ve also rewarded purpose. Grootbos runs on solar energy, champions community development through its foundation, and supports local conservation and research projects that ripple well beyond the reserve’s borders. Every stay helps sustain that mission — which might be the most modern definition of luxury we have.

At a time when the world’s finest lodges are being recognised by Michelin, by Condé Nast, by whoever next holds a clipboard of merit, Grootbos’s achievement feels especially resonant. Because what it really celebrates is balance: design and wildness, comfort and conscience, people and place.

To walk through a field of blooming fynbos at dawn, then return to a breakfast plated like fine art, is to understand exactly why Grootbos stands among the best. It’s not just about where you stay — it’s about what stays with you.

Londolozi Earns Three Michelin Keys: Where Connection Is the True Currency

Posted on by James

The Michelin Guide has spoken — and Londolozi has joined a rarified circle. In the inaugural list of global lodges recognised for excellence in hospitality, Londolozi has earned Three Michelin Keys, the highest possible rating.

For those unfamiliar, the new system is Michelin’s way of recognising the world’s most extraordinary places to stay — where design, service, character, value, and connection to place combine into something unforgettable. The restaurant world has long had its stars; now the lodging world has its keys. And in Londolozi’s case, the metaphor fits perfectly.

Because a stay here really is about unlocking something — not just a door to your suite, but a door into the wilderness itself. The luxury is evident, of course: the seamless service, the design that whispers rather than shouts, the food that would make even a Parisian inspector pause mid-bite. But it’s the connection that sets Londolozi apart. Connection to land, to community, to guests, and to a philosophy that’s been evolving for almost a century.

You feel it in the quiet professionalism of a tracker reading leopard spoor at dawn. You feel it in the stillness of the river at sunset, when the light folds over the granite outcrops and the bushveld seems to exhale. You feel it in the staff who’ve worked here for generations — living proof that hospitality, when done right, becomes heritage.

Michelin calls the Three-Key rating “an extraordinary stay.” But that hardly covers it. Londolozi doesn’t just offer extraordinary stays; it offers perspective. It reminds guests that luxury isn’t about what’s added, but what’s revealed when everything unnecessary falls away.

Earning Three Keys isn’t just a nod to Londolozi’s excellence — it’s an acknowledgment of its ethos: that true hospitality has always been about belonging. The kind that doesn’t just welcome you for a night, but stays with you long after you’ve left.

Singita Sabora: Serengeti Theatre

Posted on by James

Some places you check into. Others, you quite literally arrive. Singita Sabora is firmly in the latter camp. It doesn’t just sit in the Serengeti; it unfurls across it, like a lavish set design waiting for the curtain to rise.

Set in the private Grumeti Reserve, Sabora has all the cinematic grandeur you’d expect from Singita, but with a modern twist. Think sweeping canvas tents — though “tent” feels like a disservice when your suite has Persian rugs, curated antiques, and a four-poster bed that could comfortably accommodate a small wildebeest herd. Out front, the Serengeti plains stretch until they dissolve into a mirage. At night, the soundtrack is equal parts hyena cackles and the fizz of your G&T.

Where Sabora really excels is in its balance of indulgence and immersion. One minute you’re lounging in a leather campaign chair, thumbing through a design book you didn’t know you needed in your life. The next, you’re out on game drive, watching a cheetah test the limits of physics as it streaks across the golden grass. The lodge sits right on the migratory route, so if you time it right, you can sip your morning coffee as a column of wildebeest trundles by — a reminder that in this theatre, the extras number in the thousands.

Meals here are another performance. Candlelit dinners on the deck blur into starlit skies. The menu is a masterclass in contradiction: refined yet rooted, locally inspired yet globally polished. Even the wine cellar, improbably stocked with South Africa’s finest vintages, feels like a nod to the fact that luxury in the bush isn’t just about where you are, but how well you’re looked after while you’re there.

And yet, amidst all the design flourishes and high-thread-count whispers, Sabora manages not to lose its sense of place. Step outside your suite and you’re reminded quickly that this is still big wilderness. Giraffes drift like apparitions between acacias, lions call at dusk, and the Serengeti light — that ever-changing, golden wash — steals the show at every hour.

Sabora is proof that you can have it both ways: the romance of classic safari and the thrill of contemporary design. Here, the Serengeti isn’t just a backdrop. It’s the main character, and you, for a few days, are written into the script.

Cape Town’s Culinary Delights

Posted on by James

It came as no surprise to us that the readers of Condé Naste Traveller voted for Cape Town as the Best City for Food in the World.

We have long felt confident that the culinary offerings from this most magnificent of destinations right down near Africa’s southern end would measure up to anywhere else on the globe, through an unbeatable combination of pure quality, variety and location, location, location!

From the azure waters of the Atlantic Ocean in summer to a warm fireside in the Franschoek Valley when there’s snow on the mountains in the depths of winter, the sheer range of overall experiences here mean you could try something new 365 days a year and never run out of options.

There’s certainly far more to Cape Town than its dining opportunities, but at Iconic Africa we certainly feel that a visit to this Iconic destination should certainly feature as much variety as possible when it comes to mealtimes, so that end we’ve picked four of our favourites:

Wine Farm Luncheon:

With close to 600 wine farms within 100km of South Africa’s Mother City, you’re spoiled for choice right from the get go.
Thankfully you barely have to go even ten kilometres to be right in amongst some of the best that the country has to offer, with the Constantia area – only about a 20 minute drive from the City centre – featuring many of the vineyards that have become household names; Constantia Glen, Groot Constantia and Steenberg to name a few.
Moving east towards Stellenbosch and Franschhoek, the choices only multiply, and you can sip on a Pinot Noir from Starke-Conde vineyards in Jonkershoek Valley whilst feeling like you might be in a remote hamlet in the Swiss Alps.

For those on a day-trip from Cape Town, we recommend enjoying a lunch out in the Stellenbosch/Franschhoek winelands so as allow enough time for the drive home.

Seaside Dining Overlooking the Atlantic

Again; spoilt for choice.

From fresh oysters at Tintswalo Atlantic to the incredible menu at The Nines in a high-rise in Sea Point, the view out over the ocean from anywhere along Cape Town’s Atlantic seaboard will immediately elevate your enjoyment of your meal by 15%.
Whether it’s humpback whales breaching in Springtime or simply an impressive cargo ship approaching the port, there’s always some sort of drama to be seen out on the sea.

Pizzas in Town

Whether it’s Italian, Thai, Asian Fusion, traditional South African or of course seafood, there’s something for you in Cape Town.
There has been a recent surge in boutique pizza houses, with three that immediately come to mind as our front-runners; Pizza Shed in Bree Street, Lievita near the Waterfront and Novo in Little Mowbray.
All three feature the latest pizza trend in South Africa; puffy-crusted Neapolitan-style variety, with easily identifiable leopard-spot blisters. The original flavours and combinations of toppings at all three restaurants are superb (the pepperoni and hot honey at Pizza Shed is one of our favourites!), and when we are in town we’re always torn between which spot to choose if it’s pizza we feel like!

Anywhere in Nature

The beauty of Cape Town is you never feel too far from being in the wild.
Whether you’re on top of Table Mountain or settling down to a beach picnic within a kilometre of the CBD, you will still feel removed from the hustle and bustle normally associated with a major city.

Cape Farmhouse Beer Garden is just a stone’s throw from Cape Point Nature Reserve. The restaurant at the Upper Cable Station will feed you after either a hike up Platteklip Gorge or a stunning Cablecar ride. Or African Lynx tours – who we make use of for many of our clients – will provide a sumptuous spread wherever you happen to be spending the day out and about.
Dining outside is the real way to enjoy the Cape Town culinary experience – weather dependent of course – and we’ll try to ensure that all of our guests get to enjoy something of Cape Town’s majesty during at least one of their meals.

There are literally thousands – thousands – of dining options for Cape Town visitors, so the choice can be overwhelming. Small local restaurants compete with the more established household names, and we like to think we know about both.
So if you’re booking with us and travelling to Cape Town, let us know what type of cuisine interests you the most, and we’ll take care of the rest…

 

Wilderness Magashi: Thrilling Rwanda

Posted on by James

Witness the abundance of Akagera National Park from Wilderness Magashi.
Akagera is Central Africa’s largest protected wetland and the last remaining refuge for savannah-adapted species in Rwanda. Home once more to an abundance of apex predators and their prey after highly successful reintroduction efforts, the park is again a place where one can marvel at lion, white and black rhino, buffalo and elephant roaming its hills and savannahs.

Wilderness Magashi provides the quintessential East African safari adventure and the perfect complement to your gorilla trekking experience in Rwanda.

The eight spacious tents of the lodge are perched on the shores of Lake Rwanyakazinga. You can watch elephants submerge themselves in the lake’s still waters from the deck of your room, while you are experiencing a wonderful sense of intimacy as the next tent is far enough away that you hardly know that it is there. All the rooms are linked by a raised boardwalk which runs to the main area, where you will find a luxury lounge, the dining space and bar, a swimming pool and an expansive viewing deck that takes in further sweeping views of the lake. The fire pit provides the perfect setting to enjoy a chilled cocktail after sunset.

The camp is the only exclusive-use area in Akagera, which means guests are the only ones who will be on game drives and wildlife viewing activities in the area. Rhinos, giraffes and lions roam the seemingly endless savannah. The elusive sitatunga skulks in the reedbeds, watching as you try your hand at catch-and-release fishing. Leopards sightings here are very much on the rise, thanks to a sensitive and consistent effort by trackers and guides alike to habituate the spotted cats.

It is the way this camp is integrated into its surroundings that makes it so special. Influences of Rwandan culture are balanced with the wilderness that surrounds. There are no fences, so the wildlife is uninterrupted, making their home a shared space with the camp.

Private. Peaceful. Participatory; these are the overwhelming feelings you get from your stay here. Akagera National Park is a story of survival and regeneration, and now Wilderness Magashi is very much a part of that story too…

You don’t have to journey to another country to add safari to your Gorilla trekking (which is one of Rwanda’s main drawcards). Akagera National Park and Magashi are only a short distance from Kigali, the capital. It’s 100km kilometres by road to the park entrance or a short flight.

Get in touch with us through info@iconicafrica.com to chat about Magashi, Akagera, Gorillas, Rwanda in general, or whatever type of safari you may be interested in…

Night Drives: What to Expect

Posted on by James

A lot goes on after dark.

But sometimes there’s nothing.

The reality of a night drive is that there are so many variables that go into one, it’s almost impossible to prepare guests for what they will be like or what they will probably see. It’s dependant on area, length of drive, type of spotlight, whether it’s a national park or private reserve, the season, the phase of the moon, etc, etc….

Night drives can be epic. And sometimes they’re not.

Ask the right questions of your guide beforehand so your expectations can be managed, but here are a few things to remember:

Night Drives are about the search

Just being out after dark in the African wilderness is a treat. The Milky Way above you (dependent on cloud cover) and the calls of the nightbirds and crickets mean you’re already enjoying a special experience. If you encounter something, so much the better, but it’s a bonus, not something you should necessarily expect.
Some areas tend to be more productive than others in the matter of small creatures, so make sure you are well informed before setting out.

It’s often better to start with an animal

Just driving round hoping to bump into something can be unproductive.
Your field of view is dramatically reduced from the daytime when you have 360 degrees of lighting, to the night when you have the headlights of the vehicle and the spotlight. Granted, these do provide some advantages like enabling you to spot the eye-shine of some nocturnal creatures, but you certainly can’t see as much, and may drive round for a couple of hours and encounter nothing.
In Private reserves where off-roading is allowed, it’s often better to sit with a leopard or lion as darkness begins to settle, and as they get moving into the night, you follow and see what they get up to.
The phrase “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush” probably wasn’t coined on safari, but it was never more appropriate…

Photography is going to be tricky

On a night drive, it’s usually better to put the camera away.
Unless you have really great gear and know exactly how to adjust your settings to adjust for very low light and the likely single beam of the spotlight, chances are you will be hacking around with your camera, getting frustrated while you try to work out why the shutter speed is so low and you’re getting such blurry images.
Far better to put the camera down and just enjoy…

There may be bugs in summer

The rainy season and its warmth and moisture can create conditions in which an insect or two might come buzzing along. Termites fly our of their mounds to start new colonies and dung beetles fly by on their merry way, navigating by the stars. You might get a bump or even a winged termite down the shirt. Nothing will happen, trust us! A small fright, maybe, but that’s the extent of it. Go out there knowing that there might be a close encounter of the tiny, winged, six-legged variety, and you’ll be fine.

Night drives are a wonderful extension of your safari experience. But just like in the daytime version, there are many things outside of the guide’s control, so go out there with a sense of adventure, a sense of humour, and the simple excitement of what you might encounter, and we guarantee you’ll get the most out of the experience…