africa

All the best wildlife, bazaars, and adventures Africa has to offer from Cairo to Cape Town.

Wanderlust with William Whitecloud
The word Safari was first an Arabic word "safara," meaning "a journey," which was first used as a foreign word in the English language in 1858. Then Swahili: The Arabic word found its way to East Africa where it was adapted to the Swahili verb "kusafiri" which means "to travel" and the noun safari.
By Yo8 years ago in Wander
NAKUPENKA
Today I want to talk to you about one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. I'm talking about Nakupenda, a strip of sand that rises today at dawn and disappears every evening at sunset in the middle of the Indian Ocean.
By Claudia Costabile8 years ago in Wander
Into East Africa
I traveled to Bujumbura, Burundi during my senior year of undergrad and stayed there for about a month. The journey took one three hour car ride, and three separate flights over the course of 28 hours but we made it. I traveled with my boyfriend whose family is from Burundi and who had only visited, himself, every so often. To say I felt grateful would be an understatement. And before I get into the rest of this piece, I think it is important to note that I am no expert on Burundi. I was born lower middle class and white in Upstate New York and therefore can only translate this experience through my own lens.
By Kristen F8 years ago in Wander
Serendipity
I got off the plane into the hot, desert heat. The wind was blowing, and at first it didn’t seem all that different, until I really opened my eyes and saw what was in front of me. Nothing was the same as my small town. There were people of all different ethnicities, belonging to all different religions, and speaking all different languages. That’s what fascinated me the most, the languages and the cultures, all coming together to make something unique, yet each so different from the other.
By Ryan M8 years ago in Wander
I Am Adventure
I am adventure. For many of us Millennials, life is a little complicated. We’re that “still-figuring-it-out-whilst-pretending-to-look-like-we’ve-got-it-sorted” generation and in the midst of being suffocated by all the Valencia-filtered Insta posts and the incessant motivational quotes I think we lose sight of adventure. Real adventure.
By Asha Modha8 years ago in Wander
My African Experience
My heart will always beat in rhythm with the African drum. It was 7am when we awoke, looking out of our tent to what I could only describe as a painting, it was an African sunrise. A day ahead of us full of adventure, it was the first overland safari I was going to have experience, eager to go I was thinking of what we were going to see. I had watched endless documentaries from a young age on Africa; from the largest land mammal to the smallest insect it all fascinated me. We put on our insect repellent, layered on the sun cream, packed our cameras and boarded the vehicle.
By Thomas Farmer8 years ago in Wander
Perspective
I was stood there in disbelief and close to tears. Never had I imagined the brutality that this world could offer. Not only was it what I was seeing that rendered me speechless but how it was being dealt with.
By Unknown Unknown8 years ago in Wander
The Legend of the Blue City. Chefchaouen, Morocco.
It was yet another hot afternoon in Chefchaouen. I had walked through the desert, all the way from Tangier in search for some peace. Wanted to leave the shore behind and the Mediterranean with it. The sea reminded me of his eyes, those immensely blue always questioning eyes. I loved them so much, but I had to forget them, to rip their memory out of myself. But I couldn’t do that so well, so I decided to try and hate them. But that didn’t really work either – it’s impossible to hate something that doesn’t exist anymore.
By Oana Petrache9 years ago in Wander
Girl at the Edge of Death
Fear turns you inside out. Like an invisible, open hand, it reaches out towards you from the unknown. We all have fears, and most of us hide them as far away as possible. Our fears are so defining and embedded in our character and our past, that it isn’t until we know someone well that we even dare to approach the question. No one ever asks about fears as an icebreaker, or during small talk (but why the hell not?).
By Carlota Maura9 years ago in Wander
Against All Odds: Tandeka's Story
The Sun beamed and I could feel the hard heat on the back of my neck. The grass shuffled, and we all stood there, quite still, quite petrified, before a beast we knew could tear our heads off in a matter of seconds. It isn’t easy to explain how, as I stood there knowing how deadly her fangs piercing on my skin would be, I felt no impulse to run as fast as I could. All I wanted was to stand there, looking at her for as long as I could, and take in the beauty of her mere existence. As I knelt before her, I felt alone. In my head, the others disappeared, and I felt her gaze upon me.
By Carlota Maura9 years ago in Wander
Traveling to Senegal Left Me With More Questions Than Answers
Here I am, sitting on the edge of a fishermen’s boat in the Senegal River in the Saint Louis Region, right outside the village of Mouit. Birds are flapping and squawking from every which way above me. Normally, birds scare me, and I usually run for cover, but I could not duck this time. I was in awe at the sheer number of them and their reaction as we got closer to their sanctuary. Here humans met animals at the nexus that is the Langue De Barbarie National Park in Senegal. I’ve seen lots of birds in my lifetime of course, and I’ve seen bird preservation sites, but here, I felt intrusive, which was a feeling I had more than once during my time here in Senegal. It was more often than not that I felt like an outsider that was invading the classroom, the town or the habitat of others that were native to this land. But I wanted to learn! About the culture, the land and the language so I tried not to stand out too much but alas, that was not possible. I was different and everyone knew it.
By Carli 9 years ago in Wander
For the Love of Tagine
Welcome to the blue city. There is a four-year-old child clinging to his cat on the steps of his home. The blue tunnels feel like underwater caves and you almost expect sharks and dolphins to weave between the crowds. There is an old lady selling bread- hard, floury, fresh Moroccan khobz, and a flock of animals and their child counterparts run up and try to steal crumby mouthfuls. The smell of leather, incense and cinnamon loom from musty underground doorways. Handmade jewellery and hair oils line doorways and wooden shops and the pavement is cool and dusty. Doesn’t this sound glorious? This is Chefchaouen, in the far dreamy north of Morocco.
By Imogen Kars9 years ago in Wander