Literally and figuratively, this was my journey to Milele. Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how true healing sometimes requires facing the very pain we’ve been avoiding, the final wave we hoped might pass us by. Often, we don’t get the chance to complete the full circle of healing because life pushes us into survival mode. There’s no space to feel, no time to process. But eventually, life brings it all back, gently or not, for us to sit with and make sense of.
While this blog is centered around my journey to Milele (the safari through Kruger), it also became a deeper and more personal passage. I reached Milele in my healing too. I encountered emotions I didn’t even know I had buried, and I finally gave them the space they deserved. It felt like the final step, and fittingly, it happened on the actual road to Milele.
South Africa isn’t just a checkmark on my travel list, it’s a place that feels like a second home. I’ve visited so many times, I’ve honestly lost count. I’ve celebrated milestones there, made lasting memories, and fallen in love with its spirit again and again.
What keeps drawing me back? The food, first of all. I’m a sucker for great culinary experiences, and South Africa consistently delivers, especially with the fine dining experience. Add to that the warm, genuine hospitality, and it’s hard to stay away for long.
But I hadn’t been back since COVID. Not by choice, life just hadn’t aligned. So when the opportunity finally came, I knew I didn’t want just another visit. I wanted a full-circle moment. This time, I planned to experience it all: the city buzz, the call of the wild, the serenity of vineyards, the crashing waves of the sea.
I carefully mapped out my itinerary: a bit of city life in Johannesburg, the unforgettable safari experience in Kruger, wine and slow mornings in Franschhoek, and of course, Cape Town, my forever favourite, where the city meets the sea and magic always seems to happen.
Though my journey was meant for South Africa, I couldn’t help but make a stop in my other home, Dubai. I decided to spend a few days catching up with friends, tackling some overdue admin tasks, and most importantly, timing it just right to attend one of my favourite jazz performances at the Dubai Opera. I planned everything around that show, and it was so worth it.
I also (finally!) did the desert safari. Can you believe I lived in Dubai for over a decade and had never done it? It used to be my fun fact “lived in the desert, never did a safari.” Well, I’ve ruined that little trivia gem now, but I’m glad I did it. It was a fun experience, and I even conquered my fear of climbing onto a camel. Small wins!
After Dubai, it was time for the real trip to begin, starting in Johannesburg. I planned to spend three nights there. It’s a city I already know quite well, so I didn’t need an intense itinerary. This leg of the trip was all about soaking in the city vibe, indulging in fine dining, and finally visiting the Apartheid Museum, something I’d been meaning to do for years.
Johannesburg
My first day was intentionally slow. I explored some of the restaurants and soaked in the weather, which, despite locals calling it winter, felt like perfect summer to me. That said, I tend to avoid staying out too late in Joburg, especially when I’m solo and relying on rideshare.
On Sunday which was the following day, I planned to tick off something that had been on my list forever, walking with lions at Ukutula. I thought about renting a car, but let’s be honest: if I can avoid driving, I will. Thankfully, Uber was an option. It was a two-hour ride, reasonably priced, and I figured if my driver was in good spirits, it could be a chill Sunday activity for both of us. Here comes Graham ? He arrived with a big smile, and I half-jokingly asked, “Are you ready to hang out today?” His response? “I was thinking the same thing, let’s make it fun.” And that set the tone for the day.
We grabbed some snacks and drinks, hit the road, and had the best conversations. Graham, a middle-aged white South African, quickly figured out I wasn’t local, but I didn’t offer too many details. Solo travel teaches you when to share and when to preserve your safety with small white lies. Self-preservation first, always.
Still, we hit it off. We talked about everything, politics, life, photography, and what brought me to South Africa this time. The two-hour drive flew by. When we arrived, Graham surprised me: “I’ll wait for you and take you back, if you’d like.” I was planning to ask, but didn’t want to seem needy. The stars aligned.
We agreed I’d pay him directly, bypassing Uber’s cut, and he even offered to take me to the Apartheid Museum afterward. “This is the most eventful Sunday I’ve had in a while,” he said with a laugh. I felt safe. It felt right.
There were some delays at Ukutula before the lion walk started. The handlers were a bit pushy about tips, which was off-putting, but I understood, they’re dealing with wild animals and difficult tourists every day. Still, tone matters.
The experience itself? Magical. I wasn’t scared. I lived in the moment, walking alongside the lions, watching them roam, and soaking it all in. On our way out, we spotted a giraffe, my absolute favourite animal. I love horses, but giraffes give me goosebumps. Honestly, if I went on safari and only saw giraffes, I’d still call it a win.
Graham pulled over, insisting I hop out so he could snap some photos. Of course, I did, I was willing to risk it all for that moment! Later, we saw zebras too, and chatted about how each zebra’s stripes are unique. The ride back to Joburg was just as lively, we talked about faith, family, and life. I even relaxed a bit and answered some personal questions.
When we got to the museum, Graham offered to wait while I explored. I spent about 90 minutes there and immediately regretted not coming earlier, I could have stayed all day. It was deeply moving. Since visiting Robben Island in 2015, this visit finally connected the dots. I’ll definitely go again.
By 6 p.m., Graham and I had been together since 9 a.m. I thanked him profusely when he dropped me off. We exchanged numbers just to confirm the bank transfer, and later that night he messaged me: “In the year I’ve been doing this driving thing, today is the loveliest of them all. Thank you, and Praise God.” My heart was full.
That evening, I went to catch the sunset and have dinner at Marble in Rosebank. Honestly? It didn’t live up to the hype. It felt like one of those restaurants trying to be everything and ending up with no real identity. I much preferred La Boqueria, where I dined the night before, it’s been a favourite for years, and they’ve stayed true to their niche.
The night didn’t end there. I ran into a few girls I’d met earlier at Ukutula, and they invited me out clubbing. Why not? We danced the night away, and they even dropped me off at 2 a.m. They were fellow tourists, and we now have a running joke about me visiting them in Houston.
Monday rolled around, my final day in Johannesburg. I had some work to catch up on, so I kept things simple. I went to the Four Seasons Westcliff for a long, peaceful lunch at Flames. That terrace view always delivers. The crowd there is usually older and more refined, which was exactly the vibe I needed to wind down.
The food was amazing, as always. I headed home, finished up my work, and packed my bags for my next adventure: Kruger National Park, where I had what I can confidently call my most incredible safari experience to date.
Kruger with Foxy Crocodile Lodge
Before I settled on Kruger, I went down a serious rabbit hole researching safari options. I looked into everything, from reserves in Namibia to coastal escapes in Mozambique, but ultimately, I wanted the highest chance of seeing the Big Five. I’ve done quite a few safaris over the years, up until 2020, and while each one was special in its own way, I was craving something different this time, somewhere new, and more immersive.
I had never been to Kruger, and that alone made it the obvious choice. But then came the big decision: where to stay. I was going to spend four nights, and I wasn’t looking for a generic, overly touristy lodge. I wanted something boutique, something with soul, a place that offered an intimate experience with nature and just the right amount of comfort. After about two weeks of comparing options, I found Foxy Lodge. It was between Foxy and two other places, but something in me just knew, this was it.
My thought process around how to get to Kruger… let’s just say it wasn’t my best moment. I flirted with the idea of a road trip instead of a flight, mainly because, despite all my travel, I’m not a big fan of flying. If there’s a comfortable ride available, I’ll usually take it.
The team at Foxy Lodge suggested a luxury coach, and it sounded like a chill, scenic way to get there. In reality? It turned into the longest trip of my life. Six hours. I had romanticized it as a peaceful road journey with beautiful sights and time to read. But the views were underwhelming, and the book I brought along, Hillary Clinton’s Something Lost, Something Gained turned out to be more political than personal. I couldn’t get into it.
I wasn’t in the mood for movies either, and that left only one option: sleep. Which I did, off and on, for most of the ride. About 30 minutes before we arrived, the driver told me they’d already contacted the lodge owner to come pick me up. I was too tired to ask questions, just ready to be there.
We finally arrived, and waiting for me at the stop was my host. Without thinking, the first thing I said was, “Can I hug you?” He laughed, opened his arms, and said, “I’m so sorry you had to go through that long trip. I wish I had known that’s what they were recommending.” Despite being exhausted, I managed a few laughs and small talk. He was genuinely surprised I was traveling solo, apparently, they’d never had a solo guest before, let alone a Black woman traveling alone. He told me how much he admired my courage, and just like that, we clicked.
On the drive to the lodge, we talked about his life in the bush, how he moved from Japan, how his wife who used to also live in the city moved with him and and how much they both love what they do. It was an unexpectedly grounding moment, two strangers from very different worlds, swapping stories on a dirt road in South Africa.
When we arrived at Foxy Lodge, I was stunned. It was even more beautiful than the photos, peaceful, stylish, surrounded by nature, and full of character. His wife welcomed me with a bottle of wine (major win), and I ended the evening with an outdoor shower under the stars. There’s nothing quite like showering in the bush, it’s freeing, humbling, and a little surreal.
I crawled into bed feeling both spent and grateful, already excited to explore the lodge properly the next day.
The first game drive was scheduled for 4:45 AM, which meant very little sleep, but I didn’t mind. There’s something magical about early morning safaris, especially when you catch the sunrise just as it kisses the horizon. That moment… that’s the real milele. It’s what I always look forward to.
I’d already laid out my outfit and had my binoculars prepped the night before. The staff had kindly dropped off a flask for morning coffee, but I had my own tea packed, coffee isn’t really my thing. Breakfasts were provided too, packed neatly so we could eat on the drive.
I rolled out of bed slowly, still groggy from the previous day’s journey, but mindful that there might be others on the drive. I got dressed quickly and made my way out. Turned out there were only three of us in the van, so it felt almost like a private tour.
Our guide greeted us warmly and asked what we were hoping to see. I told him I had high expectations. Big Five energy only. Even spotting just one that morning would feel like a win.
As we arrived at the Kruger gate, the sky began to brighten. After routine checks, we were off. And I kid you not, not five minutes into the drive, we spotted a tower of giraffes, standing tall and still, silhouetted against the rising sun. I was so mesmerized, I didn’t even reach for my camera. I just smiled, one of those deep, soul-level smiles, and took it all in.
The sunrise was even more stunning than I’d imagined. The air was crisp and chilly, perfect safari weather. Animals tend to move around more in the cool mornings, and this was no exception. Our guide was incredibly knowledgeable, stopping frequently to point out indigenous birds and offer insights into the landscape.
Over the next few hours, we spotted elephants, zebras, buffaloes, hippos, and crocodiles. The guide educated us on the different species, their habits, and conservation efforts. For a first-day drive, it was a feast of wildlife. I looked at my watch, it was 9 AM. The game drive was wrapping up. We took a quick bathroom break before heading back to the lodge.
With daylight fully up, I finally got to appreciate Foxy Lodge in all its glory. My villa was spacious and beautiful, complete with two bathrooms (one indoors, one outdoor), a terrace with a jacuzzi, and even a fireplace where my dinner would later be cooked. It was everything I had hoped for, and more.
The housekeeping team checked in gently, making sure I had everything I needed without being intrusive. I had lunch, spent some time quietly observing the animals around, and then crashed for a nap, a deep, well-deserved four-hour nap. By the time I woke up, it was morning in North America, so I squeezed in a little work before nightfall.
That evening, two kind-hearted men came by to make me dinner, T-bone steak grilled over open firewood. I watched the whole process with curiosity, asking questions while they cooked. As the scent of dinner filled the air, I leaned back and gazed at the stars.
It’s been so long since I’d seen stars that clearly. I was instantly transported back to childhood evenings with my paternal grandmother, stargazing while listening to tales by moonlight. The nostalgia hit hard. It was one of those rare, grounding moments where everything just feels right.
Dinner was delicious. Simple, flavorful, made with care. I went to bed feeling full, in every sense of the word, and excited for the days ahead.
The next few days followed a similar rhythm:
Mornings filled with safaris, quiet afternoons with nature, tea, or a dip in the jacuzzi, and star-lit evenings with wholesome food and deep sleep. Some days I’d just sit and listen to the sounds of the birds, the rustle of animals moving nearby, and the gentle hum of the bush.
On our final game drive, we were joined by a professional wildlife photographer who brought his powerful binoculars. That was the day we finally saw lions, a highlight I’d been hoping for. We didn’t get to see a leopard, but honestly, the trip already felt complete. It had been an incredible safari.
On my last morning, I felt a little sad packing up. I made sure to find my host and thank him properly, for the warmth, the welcome, and the way the lodge felt like home.
Though I wasn’t ready for it to end, I was excited for the next leg of my trip: Franschhoek (wine country), here I come.
Franschhoek
I had flirted with the idea of visiting Franschhoek on previous trips to Cape Town, but somehow, it just never happened. This time, I was intentional. I booked my accommodation directly in Franschhoek, without planning any stopover in Cape Town before heading into the valley.
Once I landed at Cape Town International Airport, I arranged for a professional driver to take me straight to Franschhoek. The drive itself was smooth, and I arrived in the early evening to something out of a dream. I’ve been to Napa Valley, and even visited Stellenbosch in South Africa, but nothing had quite prepared me for how picturesque, serene, and charming Franschhoek would be. It reminded me of Provence, a quiet, peaceful village nestled between rolling vineyards and towering mountains. The only thing missing? Nightlife. But then again, this is wine country. Slow living is the point.
Without wasting time, I asked the hotel receptionist for a town map and quickly found the Wine Tram routes. Since I was solo and had no need to worry about driving, it was the perfect way to explore.
The boutique hotel I stayed at was impeccable, personal, stylish, and warm, with some of the best hospitality I’ve experienced. Once I got my bearings, I headed to the Wine Tram ticket office and chose a route that covered the vineyards I was most excited about. The setup is brilliant: you hop on and off the tram at different wine estates, choosing to either taste wines or simply soak in the views. Naturally, I did both.
We visited six vineyards in total, and let me tell you, these were not tiny tasting pours. It felt more like wine drinking than wine tasting, but I wasn't mad about it. The crowd was friendly, and we all took turns snapping photos for each other. By the time we got to the last stop, Haute Cabrière, I was officially tipsy and knew I had reached my limit. I decided not to drink anymore and instead just enjoyed the breathtaking views, mentally bookmarking it for a second visit.
My plan was to ride the tram to get a feel for all the vineyards, then return to any favorites for a deeper experience. It worked out perfectly.
Back at the hotel around 6 PM, I crashed into bed. When I woke up at 11 PM starving, reality hit: Franschhoek has no nightlife. Not even a late-night room service menu. I spotted a Hilton hotel nearby and rushed over, hoping their restaurant was open, but no luck. The kitchen had closed.
Thankfully, one of the staff members recommended a 24-hour convenience store nearby. I told him I was too nervous to walk there alone, and he kindly offered to walk me there himself. On the way, we talked about how he preferred living and working in Franschhoek over Cape Town. I told him I completely understood, there’s something magical about this place. After making sure I got back safely, we said our goodbyes and I finally ate my sandwich before heading to bed.
The next day, I had a huge breakfast before setting off on Day 2 of the Wine Tram. I kept it light this time, just two vineyards, since I had booked a 12-course fine dining experience that evening and didn’t want to dull my palate.
Everything from the wine to the food was exceptional. But after two full days, I started to feel ready for something else. Wine country is beautiful, but it can feel a bit repetitive if you’re not doing it with a group. I was ready for a new pace and of course Cape Town was calling.
Capetown
Cape Town was the leg of my trip where I planned to stay the longest. I love the city, the people are easygoing, there’s always something happening, and it’s a great blend of nature and culture. Plus, it’s filled with tourists, so blending in is effortless.
I arrived in the evening and went straight to The Bungalow to meet up with some people I’d connected with earlier in the trip. As fate would have it, I ran into someone I knew, and we all caught up over drinks. I picked up a few local recommendations for new things to try, but I didn’t stay out too late, I had an early hike up Lion’s Head planned.
The next morning, I was up by 5 AM. My original plan was to reach the summit before sunrise, but it was still too dark when I got there, so I waited for the sun before starting the hike. I hadn't researched it much, intentionally, I didn’t want to psych myself out.
Not far in, I realized this wasn’t just a hike, there was actual rock climbing involved. The trail wasn’t packed, but there were a few others making their way up. I’m scared of heights, so every viewpoint tested me. At one point, I almost turned back, but something in me said, You’re already here. Keep going.
After about two hours, I made it to the top. There, I met a group of hikers who were surprised I’d done it alone. They insisted I join them on the way down so I wouldn’t hike alone again, and we ended up having brunch together in Sea Point. They were lively, respectful, and warm, it felt good to share space with people who just got it.
By the time brunch was over, it was 3 PM, which is when my workday begins. One thing I love about Cape Town is the built-in work/life balance i'm able to attain when I'm there. I could hike, socialize, and still clock in productively. That rhythm became my daily structure for the next two weeks.
The day after the hike, I woke up sore but determined, because I had a scuba diving trip booked in Simon’s Town, and it was too late to cancel.
We were diving at the kelp forest, and I’d never been in Cape Town waters before. I sipped hot chocolate and had a bagel while waiting for the crew, and then we set out. Despite my sore muscles, it turned out to be one of my best diving experiences to date. The visibility was excellent, and we even did a second dive at a shipwreck site. The instructor was fantastic, and the whole experience was energizing.
During my time in Cape Town, I explored restaurants, visited cafés, and created a rhythm that felt intentional. I had the freedom to rest when I needed, work when I wanted, and explore when I felt like it. Everything about this part of the trip was curated to fit my lifestyle, and the autonomy I craved was exactly what I got.
On my way back, I made another stop in Dubai, 10 more days of sun and catching up with friends. But honestly? I was ready to be back in North America. There was so much waiting for me, and my mind had already shifted to the things I needed to get done.
Still, this trip gave me exactly what I didn’t know I needed: clarity, healing, and space. I may write a separate piece on that, something on travel and wellbeing, because the transformation I experienced wasn’t just physical. It was emotional, spiritual, and deeply grounding.
