We checked in online the night before our British Airways flight from Cape Town to London. Unfortunately, so too did everybody else. This meant that the queue for the comically misnamed "Fast Bag Drop" was far longer, and slower, than any we had experienced with Air Namibia, Linhas Aereas de Mocambique, Air Zimbabwe or any of the other carriers which had previously transported us around the African continent. The slowness may have been linked to what happened at the head of the line, when we handed over our three bags. "I'm sorry sir, you are only allowed one hold bag each. BA policy." "But when we checked in online yesterday, it asked us how many bags we had to check in, and we said three, and it didn't say that would be a problem," I pleaded. ... read more

We had tried turtle watching on a previous holiday in Sri Lanka, and been unsuccessful - we managed to pick the first night of the turtle watching season when there were no turtles. It was a nice beach, and the stars were pretty, but that wasn't really the point. So we thought we'd give it another go in South Africa, with a company that said they could almost guarantee a sighting. And we came up trumps. Which was just as well, because it was a heck of a slog to get there. First, there was a four hour drive from St Lucia to a place near the Mozambican border, in the region of the Tsonga people, the last hour and a half of which involved bumping along a sandy track in a 4x4. Then, a six ... read more

So, we've spent the best part of four days over Christmas in the Mozambican capital, Maputo. Maputo comes closer than anywhere else we've visited to the lazy Western stereotype of the African city: dusty, litter-strewn, pot-holed streets choked with black clouds of pollution from cars that should have been consigned to the scrapheap years ago; the better, older buildings quietly decaying while the newer ones, where most of the people live, are mostly ramshackle single storey affairs that look like they wouldn't survive a sharp gust of wind. As Mozambique, unlike everywhere else we've visited, is not a former British colony but rather was occupied by the Portuguese, Portuguese is very much the dominant language, and English is generally limited. We set off to see the sights of the city at 10am one morning. Once we ... read more

We flew into the Okavango Delta in a five seater plane with Bruce, a pilot who grew up in Devon, spent years as a mining surveyor, then somehow got into flying planes in Botswana. "Right, where are we going then?" asked Bruce as we got on board. "God, these controls look ancient. Probably date from World War Two. Still, much more fun than flying a commercial airliner - much more to do." More fun from a pilot's point of view, perhaps - from a passenger's point of view I wasn't so sure. Bruce offered me the controls mid-flight, keeping up the making-it-up-as-I-go-along feel. The flight was spectacular, looking down as the semi-desert gave way to the lush green wetlands of the Delta; so too another flight a few days later (coincidentally also with Bruce) to Kasane, ... read more

There can be few things more exhilarating than speeding at full pelt across the bumpy flats of a desert on a quad bike, then staying at full throttle to power to the top of a dune, before coming gently off the gas to ensure as smooth a descent as possible, while your heart jumps to the top of your throat. Quad biking was a great way to spend the final full afternoon in Swakopmund, Germany-on-Sea on the African Atlantic coast. Friends who had been to Namibia all rated it as one of the highlights of their trip. I was dubious, but I now see what they meant. I have been quad biking before, but never for so long, or at such speeds, or in such a spectacular setting with the ever rising and falling dunes, and ... read more