Right then, settle in with a cuppa, because I’m about to spill the beans on an eleven day escapade that has well and truly spoiled me rotten. We’re talking South Africa meets Mauritius, and not your average, backpacker’s budget kind of trip. Oh no, this was pure, unadulterated, five star indulgence, the sort that makes you wonder if you accidentally signed up to be a minor royal. We started in the Kruger, specifically a ridiculously exclusive private reserve. Forget jostling for a glimpse of a lion through a dusty window. Here, our safari vehicle was more like a mobile lounge, complete with plush seating and a ranger who seemed to possess a sixth sense for spotting the Big Five. Honestly, it felt like the animals were putting on a private show just for us. We’d be sipping on chilled gin and tonics while a herd of elephants ambled past, so close you could practically smell their leathery hides. And the giraffes, oh, the giraffes! They’d bend their impossibly long necks down to eye level, as if to say, “Fancy a selfie, darling?” My phone storage is still recovering. One morning, we had a private bush breakfast laid out under a giant acacia tree. Think lobster thermidor before 9 am. I nearly wept into my perfectly poached eggs. The rangers were brilliant, sharing tales of the wild that were both fascinating and slightly terrifying. I did have a brief moment of self doubt, wondering if my knowledge of the animal kingdom extended beyond the Disney classics. Thankfully, a well placed nod and a murmur of “Oh my, incredible!” usually did the trick. After our fill of the wild (and believe me, there’s always room for more when it’s this comfortable), we hopped on a private jet, because of course we did, and winged our way to the shimmering shores of Mauritius. This was a different kind of luxury, all turquoise waters, white sandy beaches, and the kind of service that makes you feel like you’ve discovered your own personal island paradise. Our villa was more like a mini palace, complete with a private infinity pool that cascaded into the Indian Ocean. Mornings involved a gentle swim, followed by a breakfast of exotic fruits and freshly baked pastries delivered right to our terrace. The days melted into a blissful routine of reading under a palm tree, snorkelling in water so clear you could see your toes from the moon (okay, slight exaggeration, but you get the idea), and indulging in spa treatments that made me question my life choices before this trip. How had I ever survived without a daily massage? It’s a mystery that continues to plague me. Evenings were for sunset cocktails, savouring delicious seafood that tasted like it had been plucked straight from the ocean an hour earlier, and stargazing from our deck. With no city lights to speak of, the night sky was a dazzling spectacle. It was the sort of trip that makes you feel utterly rejuvenated, a little bit pampered, and thoroughly convinced that life, when done this way, is just magnificent. If you ever get the chance, and I truly hope you do, embrace the extravagance. It’s an experience you won’t soon forget, and it’ll make your regular life feel wonderfully, hilariously ordinary afterwards.