Praslin

Stepping into the Vallee de Mai Nature Reserve is like stumbling backward through evolution into a fantasy dreamed up by a very eccentric botanist. Tucked neatly into the lush, emerald embrace of Anse Volbert, this UNESCO-listed sanctuary is famous not only for its primeval beauty but for housing the scandalously suggestive Coco de Mer, the largest-and arguably cheekiest-seed on the planet. Legend once whispered these hefty double coconuts floated from mythical underwater forests; today, you merely have to navigate leafy trails alive with indigenous birdsong and sly geckos to witness them up close. Go early in the morning, when the forest drips with the tropical humidity of dawn, and to dodge any midday tour-group stampedes. Set aside around two hours (and about 25 USD admission), and while you're at it, bring water, bug spray, and your sharpest sense of humor for a selfie with Mother Nature's sauciest botanical joke. Sure, it might sound like a touristy tick-box, but trust me, years from now, telling friends about your visit to see a coconut that resembles Beyonce's backside is worth the price of admission alone.

Anse Lazio is the kind of beach that could make even the most cynical traveler stop mid-snark, mouth agape, and concede that paradise might actually exist-and it's conveniently located right here on earth, specifically the northwest tip of Praslin Island in Seychelles. Sure, every postcard-perfect beach claims "most beautiful" status, but Anse Lazio unapologetically earns its crown, flaunting waters so turquoise they'd cause Crayola an existential crisis and gloriously lazy palms leaning at angles suspiciously perfect for Instagram. Arrive early, ideally just after sunrise, to snatch prime sandy real estate and savor those precious, fleeting minutes of solitude before the crowds inevitably trickle in-selfie sticks in hand. Pack a towel, sunscreen, snorkel gear, and a wad of cash (expect to budget about $30 per head if you fancy lunch at one of the quaint beachfront cafes). Snorkeling here isn't just a casual floatabout; it's an aquatic safari through coral kingdoms teeming with flamboyant fish that seem vaguely annoyed by your presence yet tolerant enough to let you invade their space. Even if tropical beaches aren't your usual jam-and the thought of frolicking amongst honeymooners triggers your inner misanthrope-visiting Anse Lazio is non-negotiable, a story you'll smugly recount at dinner parties for years afterward, your voice dripping with faux modesty: "Yes, well, after Anse Lazio, every other beach just felt... pedestrian."

If you're looking for a dive that feels equal parts psychedelic rave and David Attenborough documentary, heading underwater off Cote d'Or at night to swim amidst bioluminescent plankton is your ticket to marine-induced euphoria. The ocean at daytime, sure, has its vibrant coral displays and overly confident clownfish, but nighttime turns it into a surreal aquatic disco where tiny plankton, when disturbed, flash electric blue like microscopic paparazzi capturing your every clumsy fin kick. Historically, sailors mistook these glowing seas for supernatural omens (probably after a few too many rums), but knowing it's actually millions of tiny microorganisms displaying their mating prowess somehow makes it even weirder. Aim to hit the water around two hours after sunset to catch the glowing spectacle at its brightest; book at least a day ahead, since spaces on dive boats vanish faster than your dignity on karaoke night. Budget between $60-$100 per dive, depending on your gear needs and your guide's comedic talent, and don't forget a waterproof flashlight, a towel, and a healthy dose of adventurous spirit. Sure, you could skip it-but why pass up the chance to casually drop "bioluminescent plankton dive" at your next dinner party?

If your idea of paradise involves dangling above a scattering of islands that look suspiciously Photoshopped, then a helicopter tour over the Seychelles from Grand Anse is your ticket to smug storytelling rights. Floating above these lush dollops of emerald rainforest and ivory beaches fringed by water so absurdly turquoise it seems designed purely to annoy friends back home, you'll understand why pirates once considered this place worth risking scurvy-and why royals and rock stars now quietly stake out private corners. Book your airborne venture at least a week ahead, and aim for the early morning or late afternoon to dodge midday glare and revel in golden-hour magic. It'll set you back a neat $400-$600 per person depending on duration, but hey, immortality via Instagram envy doesn't come free. Pro tip: pack sunglasses, a fully charged camera, and some ginger chews-tropical breezes are romantic; turbulence, less so. Ultimately, even if heights give you weak knees or scenic flights feel a bit too James Bond indulgent, do it anyway. Because how often do you get to casually drop phrases like "when I was helicoptering over the Seychelles..." into conversations? Exactly.