Port Louis

If your idea of paradise involves bobbing lazily in turquoise waters, cocktail in hand, while simultaneously sidestepping errant jet skis piloted by overly enthusiastic tourists, then Île aux Cerfs is unquestionably your kind of blissful chaos. This postcard-perfect island, tucked discreetly off the coast of Mauritius's Flacq District, might once have been a favorite escape for deer (hence its name, translating rather elegantly to Deer Island), but these days, it's colonized by sunburned adventurers clutching flippers and overly optimistic snorkeling gear. Arrive early-before 10 AM-if you prefer your slice of heaven without selfie sticks photo-bombing your carefully curated relaxation shots. Book a catamaran or speedboat tour at least a couple of days ahead to prevent awkward haggling on the docks, and budget around 1,500 to 2,500 Mauritian rupees per person (about $35-60 USD), assuming you want lunch that doesn't consist of hastily packed sandwiches and bruised bananas. Bring sunscreen, a sense of humor, and perhaps a book thicker than airport fiction, just to signal your seriousness about relaxation. Despite the occasional surge in crowds, Île aux Cerfs remains the sort of place you simply must visit-even if it's just so you can smugly boast about "that one time you lounged on paradise sandbars and narrowly avoided being run over by a banana boat."

Picture yourself, sunburned and slightly rum-soaked, stumbling across a psychedelic moonscape in the heart of Mauritius. Welcome to Chamarel's Seven Colored Earth-a geological oddity that looks precisely like Mother Nature got bored and spilled her spice rack. Here you'll find undulating dunes streaked in hues of burgundy, violet, amber, and mauve, seemingly painted by an artist with a caffeinated twitch. Arrive either early morning or late afternoon, when the sun slants just right, intensifying the kaleidoscopic colors and making your smartphone pictures finally worth bragging about. Book ahead? Not strictly necessary, but giving yourself at least a day's notice isn't a bad idea-though spontaneity is part of the charm here. Budget about 250 Mauritian rupees (around $6 USD), a price that feels downright charitable for an experience this bizarre. Pack sunscreen, curiosity, and perhaps a few conspiracy theories involving aliens. Sure, it's just sand, but it's psychedelic sand-and how often can you say you've wandered around in something that looks like the aftermath of a unicorn rave?

Embarking on a safari through South Africa's illustrious Kruger National Park is rather like attending nature's rowdiest house party-wildly unpredictable, occasionally alarming, but supremely fascinating. Established in 1898 by Paul Kruger (whose beard alone was probably threatening enough to deter poachers), Kruger sprawls over an area roughly the size of Israel, packed to the brim with the storied Big Five-namely lions, leopards, elephants, rhinos, and buffalo-plus countless creatures you've never heard of but suddenly become oddly emotional about. Arrive at dawn, when everything is bathed in that Instagram-perfect golden glow, to beat the crowds and catch animals in the bustling after-party mood. Book your safari at least three months ahead-this isn't Disneyland, after all-and budget around $150-$300 per day for guided game drives and accommodation; splurge for a ranger-led tour, because stalking through predator-infested Africa without a knowledgeable companion is neither brave nor charmingly spontaneous-it's just daft. Pack binoculars, a wide-brimmed hat, bug spray strong enough to dissolve chrome, and snacks to appease your stomach when your ranger helpfully mentions that male lions can smell fear. Why make the pilgrimage? Because spotting a leopard yawning disdainfully at human existence as it drapes itself artfully from a tree branch-well, that's priceless cocktail-party ammunition, if nothing else.