Gather ‘round, you fellow travellers with an incurable case of wanderlust and a penchant for the finer things. I’ve just returned from a little escapade that still has me pinching myself, convinced I dreamt the whole thing up after one too many GandTs. We’re talking about a five day, ultra luxe, all inclusive fly in safari in Mozambique. Yes, Mozambique. Not exactly your run of the mill safari destination, is it? Picture this: you’re whisked away by private charter plane, the kind that makes you feel like a minor royal, from the moment you step aboard. The usual airport hustle? Forget it. It’s champagne and canapés all the way. We landed on a tiny airstrip, and before I could even reapply my lipstick, a sleek open top vehicle appeared, our chariot for the week, driven by a chap named… well, let’s just call him our personal ranger extraordinaire. He had a smile that could melt glaciers and an encyclopedic knowledge of every creature from the smallest dung beetle to the mightiest elephant. Our accommodation? Oh, darling, it was less of a tent and more of a palatial villa dropped smack bang in the middle of the wilderness. Think private plunge pool overlooking a watering hole teeming with life, a four poster bed that felt like sleeping on a cloud, and a bathroom so spacious I could have held a small cocktail party in there. And the food! My word, the food. Freshly caught seafood, gourmet dishes prepared by a chef who clearly moonlighted in a Michelin starred restaurant, and wine that flowed more freely than the Zambezi. I swear my waistline expanded with every sunset. The days were a glorious blur of breathtaking encounters. We’d set out at dawn, the air crisp and alive with the sounds of the bush. One morning, we stumbled upon a pride of lions lounging regally, completely unfazed by our presence. I’d always imagined lions as ferocious beasts, but these magnificent creatures seemed to possess a certain aloof elegance, much like certain socialites I could mention. We saw herds of elephants marching in formation, giraffes elegantly craning their necks to reach the juiciest leaves, and the odd, shy leopard making a fleeting appearance. The sheer abundance of wildlife was astounding, and the fact that we often had these moments entirely to ourselves made it feel incredibly intimate. Evenings were spent under a blanket of stars so thick you could almost reach out and touch them. Picture this: a candlelit dinner by a crackling campfire, the distant roar of a lion a rather dramatic soundtrack. We’d swap stories, marvel at the sheer brilliance of the night sky, and generally feel like we’d stepped back in time, albeit with very comfortable armchairs and exceptionally good service. It was a chance to disconnect from the relentless ping of notifications and reconnect with something far more primal and profound. This wasn’t just a holiday; it was an immersion. An incredibly comfortable, remarkably well fed immersion. It’s the kind of trip that makes you question your life choices, specifically why you haven’t been doing this every year. The exclusivity meant no jostling for views, no crowded lodges. Just you, the wild, and impeccable service. Honestly, if you ever get the chance, go. Just try not to pack too many fancy outfits, though. Turns out, camouflage chic is the height of safari fashion. And pack light on the diet plans, because Mozambique’s culinary delights are simply too good to resist. I’m already dreaming of my return.