My 90-day multiple-entry visa for South Africa allowed me to slow travel through Cape Town, the Western Cape and Kruger National Park.
Incredible hikes, dining in the dark, ghetto music, a walking safari, outdoor cinema and more.
Is this a beach? Seems more like where heaven and earth meet.
Living in a typical Mauritian fishing village, I felt like an islander myself.
A local shared with me the irony of Ethiopia being the place where the world began, and yet somehow, fell off the world map into obscurity.
Everyone who comes to Mauritius falls in love with the island; but you, who live here, do you love it too?
In my 5 years of traveling, I’ve realized that my coolest adventures were also the most impulsive ones.
These are all the reasons I want to make 2016 the year of Africa for me, and hopefully for you!
If Cape Town is the pretty face of South Africa, Durban is its hipster soul. The infectious spirit of the locals, the alternative curry culinary experiences, and the artistic bent of the city blew me away. I fell in love the moment I saw its long white coastline, caressed by the deep blue Indian Ocean; it’s Zulu name eThekwini encapsulates this perfect confluence of water and earth. Here are some quirky ways to experience Durban: Delve into the local art scene My friend Andrea Rees (who runs The Heart of a Woman project near Cape Town) stumbled on a tweet about Hayani while we were in Durban. We landed at the local Playhouse Theatre that night, the only outsiders to catch this phenomenal two-man play that traced the stories of two young boys and how their lives have changed over the last two decades in South Africa. Even though part of it was in the native Xhosa language, the incredible depiction of the characters and the raw emotions of the audience gave me some much-needed perspective into this complex country. Refer …
On a lazy Sunday afternoon, the whiff of gently spiced curries floats through the streets of Mamelodi. Men from the township chat jovially under a wooden shelter, drinking beer, taking turns to stir the large metal pots on the open fire. Cow heads, they tell me as I look curiously, reminded of open-air communal cooking in India, though you seldom find men taking charge here. From a narrow street ahead, reggae music pours out, calling me towards it, towards women chilling in the outdoors over beer and gossip, dancing, playing pool! This is no party, just their only day off work. And so what if most of them are domestic workers with meagre wages, they sure know how to have a good time. I awkwardly smile at first, wondering if I am intruding. But the awkwardness melts away quickly in their jokes, and turns to hugs when they hear I’m from India. Take a picture of us, they urge me, so you can show your people how we live here; I oblige, for we can sure learn a thing or two …