The best bits about luxury safaris

I used to think "roughing it" meant staying in a hotel where the room service stopped at midnight. Then I went on a traditional camping trip and realised that sleeping on the ground is actually a form of prehistoric torture. But recently, I discovered the antidote to my outdoor-induced trauma: the exclusive luxury safari.

Let’s be honest, the word safari usually evokes images of dusty khakis and sweating profusely while squeezed into a minibus with ten strangers. Luxury safaris, however, are a different beast entirely. We’re talking about "tents" that have better plumbing and higher thread counts than my actual apartment. If your canvas dwelling includes a roll-top copper bathtub and a private plunge pool overlooking a watering hole, can you even call it a tent? It’s more like a palace that just happens to have zip-up doors.

One of the greatest advantages of going the exclusive route is the pace. On a standard tour, there’s a frantic energy, a desperate race to tick the "Big Five" off a list like a manic grocery shopper. On a luxury safari, the animals come to you, or your private guide finds them while you’re busy deciding which artisanal gin you want in your tonic.

The "sundowner" is a tradition I can firmly get behind. There is something deeply surreal, yet utterly right, about standing in the middle of the vast African bush, watching a pride of lions in the distance, while a tuxedoed steward hands you a chilled glass of your favourite cocktail. It makes you feel like an old-world explorer, minus the malaria and the questionable Victorian facial hair.

The real luxury, however, isn't just the cocktails and deliciouse meals; it’s the silence. In the more crowded parks, a leopard sighting can look like a supermarket car park on a Saturday morning. In a private concession, it’s just you, the guide, and the leopard. It turns a spectacle into a genuine connection. You actually have the mental space to appreciate the fact that you are witnessing something ancient and raw, rather than just trying to keep some tourist’s elbow out of your ear.

I’ll admit, there is a moment of soul-searching that happens when you’re tucked into a cosy bed while an elephant trumpets nearby. You start to wonder if you’ve become "that person." You know the one: someone who can’t survive without a pillow choice.

But then the sun rises over the savannah, painting the sky in shades of violet and gold, and you realise that being pampered doesn't take away from the wildness of Africa; it just allows you to appreciate it without the distraction of a sore back or a lukewarm beer.

Luxury safaris are about the luxury of time, the luxury of perspective, and the luxury of not having to share your binoculars with a stranger named Gary. It’s an indulgence, certainly, but some things are worth every penny.