La Digue

Anse Source d'Argent Beach is the kind of place travel writers smugly celebrate and Instagram influencers shamelessly exploit-one glance at those absurdly photogenic pink granite boulders, dramatically weathered over millennia into shapes Salvador Dali might envy, and you'll understand why. Located on La Digue Island, a jewel speck in the Seychelles' glittering necklace, this beach invites weary wanderers and wannabe Robinson Crusoes alike to laze shamelessly in its turquoise shallows. Plan your visit early in the morning-before the selfie-stick militia descends-to snag a prime spot and catch the sun casting playful shadows over those famous pastel rocks. Pack sunscreen, snorkel gear, and a healthy sense of irony, but leave your high heels at home; this laid-back island considers bicycles the height of luxury transport. Budget around $40 USD: a small entrance fee to the L'Union Estate-your key to accessing this coastal paradise-plus extra cash for fresh coconuts or a scandalously potent rum cocktail from a barefoot beach vendor. Touristy? Sure. But sometimes cliches exist for a reason; and besides, lounging beneath these surreal sculptures, feeling like a sun-dazed pirate marooned in paradise, makes for one hell of a story when you return to the drudgery awaiting at home.

There are safaris, and then there's the Serengeti safari-an epic, dusty, primal traffic jam involving a million wildebeest stampeding with all the subtlety of a rock festival gone wrong, zebras strutting around like prison inmates who've finally busted out, and predators lurking coolly at the fringes, sizing up the buffet. Nature unrated, unhinged, and utterly unforgettable. To catch the Great Migration in its full anarchic glory, aim for early morning or late afternoon game drives, when the animals treat the savannah as one sprawling, open-air diner. Plan at least six months ahead because, trust me, you're not the only one dying to Instagram lions having lunch. Budget generously (think $300-$600 per day for park fees, a decent guide, and lodging)-and don't forget binoculars, sunscreen, and your sense of humor. You haven't truly lived until you've watched a crocodile patiently waiting like an assassin at the Grumeti riverbanks or heard your safari guide's mildly alarming instructions on avoiding baboon theft ("They like cameras, folks!"). Worth it? Absolutely-because Serengeti isn't just about being a spectator to evolution's gritty soap opera; it's about returning home with a tale sure to silence that one friend who won't stop droning on about Burning Man.

Nungwi Beach is precisely the sort of place that postcards smugly promise but rarely deliver: powdery white sand so soft you'll feel guilty trampling it, and water tinted an improbable shade of turquoise that seems lifted straight from a paint sample named "Tropical Excess." Located on the breezy northern tip of Zanzibar, Nungwi isn't just pretty-it's a salty testament to the island's eclectic Swahili fusion of Arabic, African, and Portuguese influences (the cultural equivalent of tossing a mango lassi into your seafood stew and somehow making it delicious). If you want to sidestep crowds and beat the heat, get there early-around sunrise, when fishermen haul in their vividly painted dhows loaded with the day's catch, offering a fresh glimpse into Zanzibar's maritime past. Plan a couple of days ahead at most, bring cash (about $20 to cover a fresh seafood grill and few cold Serengetis), sunscreen strong enough to repel the equatorial sun, and the attitude that you're fully prepared not to check a single email. Sure, Nungwi's charms may be neatly Instagrammable-painfully so-but there's something undeniably satisfying about flaunting that tan line back home, casually mentioning that yeah, you lounged in paradise between gently swaying palms. Even if your only adventure was sipping cocktails and watching a lazy sunset, it's a story worth obnoxiously re-telling back home, if only to annoy your sun-starved colleagues.

If you've ever fancied yourself a bit more daring than your average beachgoer-and let's face it, who hasn't daydreamed of buried treasure at least once?-then chart a course to Robinson Crusoe Island, just off Mahe. Named with audacious cheek after literature's most famously shipwrecked loner, this lush patch of uninhabited paradise whispers intriguing tales of pirates, questionable maps, and lost fortunes-though admittedly, the only treasure most travelers stumble upon here is an empty rum bottle or two. Arrive early-ideally just after sunrise-before the Instagram hordes paddle forth and clutter your wistful selfies. Planning ahead isn't just recommended; it's a necessity, unless you prefer marooning yourself unintentionally. Budget around $100-$150 per person for boat charters and provisions (bring sunscreen, snacks, and your inner childhood pirate), and factor in a few extra bucks if your captain looks particularly salty. Yes, it'll likely be humid, sandy, and frustratingly devoid of actual treasure chests, but trust me-someday, you'll relish casually dropping into conversation the time you sashayed around a deserted island pretending to outwit pirates.