February 6th & 7th – Shamwari Safari

Very excited this morning to be going on a three day safari at the amazing lodge of Shamwari on the Eastern Cape. From Cape Town, we flew to Port Elizabeth, and then took the coach to Shamwari.

We were staying in the luxurious "Shamwari Eagle's Crag", where Silversea had booked all 9 palatial lodges, so we had the run of the place. This was some of the most luxurious lodgings that I've ever stayed in – the room was simply enormous, with its own secluded deck complete private infinity pool and outside shower. As it was, we didn't have a great amount of time to enjoy these amazing surroundings, because our time was packed with exhilarating game drives.

Over the course of the next three days, we were to see an amazing array of wildlife – we saw four of the "Big Five" (the leopards were hiding), plus sleek cheetahs, skittish zebras, looming giraffes, grumpy warthogs, leaping impalas, head-butting springboks and an enormous variety of exotic-coloured birds.

The open landscapes were magnificent, and as we bounced around them in our 4x4 jeep, it felt like we had them to ourselves. To avoid the heat of the day and to see the animals at their most active, morning drives left at a bleary-eyed 5.45am, while the afternoon drives left at a more sociable 4pm, and included the essential part of any game drive – the sundowner – as an open, (and hopefully lion-free), section of land is chosen for a few alfresco drinks as the sun sets over the African hills.

On a trip of so many highlights, it's difficult to single out any one of the other – but, on our first game drive, we had an unforgettable encounter with a herd of about 10 elephants. To be so close to these huge creatures, knowing that they're powerful enough to tip your jeep over if they really wanted to, is a thrilling experience. We were close enough to touch them, as they ripped apart the trees they were eating with ease, a mother shielding her tiny calf between her legs. The romance of it all was only broken by the frequent loud and stinky wind-breaking of the elephants. I've never been close enough to smell an elephant's fart, but this was an upclose safari.

Possibly even more thrilling than the elephant experience, was on the second day, when we came across a couple of lions striding along, looking really focused on something. We briefly lost them, and then came across them again in a small clearing in the bushes. There were 5 of them, and the male lion was feasting on a freshly killed warthog. I couldn't believe how close we were to a pride of lions – literally no more than 10 metres away. We were close enough to see the lion pulling the legs off the warthog with his teeth, and then noisily crunching on its bones. You could hear the noise as his rough tongue pulled the skin off the dead beast – amazing to see.

Unfortunately, the kill coincided with Tracy's camera (which I had been given careful instructions not to break) malfunctioning – all I was doing was taking pictures. It appears that I have killed her beloved camera, so not only do I not have any photos of the lions, but I could also be in as much trouble as that warthog.

February 5th – Cape Town’s Wines and Winos

Today we caught the remarkably reasonable Cape Town open top bus. We took blue route, which took us to the Kirstenbosch Gardens, and then to the winelands of Constantia, before following the coast round Camps Bay and back to the waterfront.

On an unbelievably hot day (apparently it was well over 40C/100F), the city, its gardens and its beaches all looked fabulous, although it quickly got too hot to view them from the top deck of the bus.

We did a bit of exploring around the colonial centre of town – lots of security people on the streets made it seem pretty safe; and then we got the bus to the beautiful Kirstenbosch Gardens, a large botanical reserve full of exotic indigenous flora, all in the shadow of Table Mountain. By now, the heat was getting to us, so how better to cool down and rehydrate than going wine tasting?

We took the bus to the beautiful winery at Groot Constantia, South Africa's oldest wine estate, where we did a quick tour of the cellars and vats (harvesting was due to start the next day); and then it all ended with the best bit – a tasting of 5 different wines, all of which were pretty good. Unfortunately, as we (and another passenger we'd met) made our way up to the bus stop, we saw a bus pulling away, which meant a 25 minute wait. However, rather than waste our time sitting at the bus stop, an executive decision was made to use the time profitably by ordering and consuming a bottle of reserve before the next bus arrived. In a bout of speed drinking that would have made Oliver Reed struggle, we polished off the plonk with enough time to comfortably stagger to the bus that was duly waiting for us.

So, it was 3 o'clock and we'd had a bottle of wine and no food, so the new priority was to get to Camps Bay to get some stomach lining. The beach was full of the beautiful people roasting themselves, but we headed straight to a chilled out restaurant for some shade and some good food.

All too quickly, it was time for the last bus, so we hopped on that and took it back to the port. A great day in a great city that was really looking at its best.

February 4th – Sailing into Cape Town

Our arrival into Cape Town on a beautifully clear afternoon was as spectacular as ever – the flat topped Table Mountain looming over the city bowl, with the peaks of Lion's Head and the 12 Apostles for company – there can't be many better places to sail into than Cape Town.

With the cool wind blowing up from Antarctica it was a little chilly on deck, but once we'd docked and got out of the wind, the hot African sun really got to work – it was boiling.

We had lots of internet chores to do today, so we just went to the air-conditioned comfort of the malls at the sparkling V&A Waterfront, where we settled in for an afternoon of wifi in a bar/restaurant. As an added bonus, they also had the rugby on, so we got to watch England's brave new dawn start off with a bit of a whimper.

February 2nd – Just Deserts in Namibia

After all the excitement of last night, this morning I got up at the crack of dawn to do the "Treasures of the Desert" tour – a tour that took us out to the bleak stony desert behind the town of Swakopmund. At 7am in the morning, it was pretty cold, and at our first couple of stops we were blasted by an icy wind blowing up from the Antarctic – aren't deserts meant to be hot?

In our 4x4 vans, we passed along dried up river beds, in between ghostly landscapes of jagged rocks streaked by undulating lines of minerals. It looked like one of the most bleak places on earth, but even here in this mysterious moonscape, we saw animals and plantlife that somehow survived. We passed a lone antelope and a couple of groups of ostriches filing along; but it was the flora that really impressed.

In this most dry of dry environments, that plantlife has somehow adapted itself to the arid conditions. We saw lichen attached to rocks that looked totally dead and dried out, but when our guide poured some water onto it, it suddenly sprang into life, its black leaves unfurling miraculously and turning bright green. It was like looking at some kind of bizarre scientific experiment. The lichen waits in this dormant state until a morning fog blows in from the cold South Atlantic and briefly revitalises it, before it shuts down again during the scorching heat of the day.

Next, we saw one of the weirdest plants that I've ever seen, the Welwitchia – a prehistoric-looking plant that was only discovered in the late 19th century. With its thick green leathery leaves, blood red fruits on a thick,low-lying stem, the plant looks like a reject from The Little Shop of Horrors, and lives for hundreds of years in the dry desert – our guide reckoned the one that we saw was about 600 years old.

After bouncing around this other-worldly landscape, we headed back to Walvis Bay via Dune 7. Last year, Tracy and I tried to climb it and gave up about half way, so this time I was determined to get to the top. I'm not sure which was weaker, my legs or my will, but I reckon I got about three-quarters of the way up this time, before I felt like my lungs and heart were going to explode. The higher you got, the softer and more unstable the sand got, so with every step, you sank virtually the same distance back down.

If we come back next year – I vow that it will not defeat me!

February 1st – Dinner in Namibia’s Desert

We've finally crossed the Atlantic, and arrived in less-than-exotic port of Walvis Bay. But, what Walvis Bay itself lacks in charm, is more than made up for by the wonderful access that it provides to Namibia's vast arid deserts, with their timeless haunting landscapes.

Just the view of the city from the ship confirms that it's the desert that dominates everything here – the city only creeps a few blocks back into the desert sands which appear to be ready to swallow up the entire town. Actually, Walvis Bay is growing relatively fast, and with a population of about 70,000, it's the second largest city in Namibia. However, a trip into town on the shuttle bus confirms that it has a frontier feeling to it – it's wide empty streets having a bit of a "Wild West" atmosphere. That said, it's all very clean and has a modern feel to it, although it doesn't have any specific attractions in town.

So, we came here for the desert, and we certainly got it that evening, with a spectacular "Silversea Experience", that took pretty much the whole ship into the desert for a complimentary dinner experience.

We were loaded into vans for the bumpy trip out of town and onto the rutted gravel roads that cross the desert, passing huge dunes constantly changing colour as the sun went down. Just as it seemed we were being driven to the middle of nowhere, we rounded a dune, and came upon our desert encampment. Here, with nothing but sand all around us, was a luxurious marquee, where fabulous food and entertainment were laid on for us – it was a surreal experience.

Tracy had scarcely been able to walk for the last couple of days after her Jacobs Ladder experience in St Helena, but now she had the feeling back in her legs, we decided to test her strength by climbing up the dune overlooking our camp. We struggled our way to the top just as the sun was setting over the sea in the distance – a breathtaking view.

Going down was certainly easier than going up, and we bounded down to the bottom, where a couple of camels were waiting to take us on a brief camel ride – at least this experience made the bouncing van trip to the desert seem comfortable.

In the camp, we were treated to atmospheric music from a marimba band and inspiring singing from a fantastic local choir, before we sat down to a tasty feast that had somehow been prepared for us in the middle of nowhere. As the desert sky turned pitch black (sadly it was cloudy so we couldn't get to appreciate the stars), we watched a mesmerising couple of fire dancers spinning round balls of fire on ropes, to the hypnotic beats of the marimba band.

A quite wonderful evening - one that reminds me how privileged I am to be doing this.

January 30th – Finding Napoleon on St Helena

So, it has taken us 5 days of (thankfully smooth) sailing to get from Rio to the remote Atlantic island of St Helena – a little outpost of the British Empire that most people have heard of because of Napoleon's exile there, but not a place that's visited much by tourists.

Maybe the lack of visitors, and the absence of the "contamination" by modern culture has ensured that the people here are so refreshingly polite, friendly and welcoming. You walk down the street and everyone says hello, and they go out of their way to help you.

We only had just over four hours here, so we hired a car from the tourist office (surprisingly cheaply), and went off on a high-speed tour of the island. As one of the most remote inhabited islands on the planet with no airport, this is not a place that you want to get left behind; so as we drove up the winding roads into the steep mountainous interior, there was always a slight worry in the back of our minds that we'd take a wrong turn and never find our way back – it helped give the day a slightly frantic excitement.

Our number one priority was to visit all the heritage related to Napoleon's 6-year stay here after his defeat in the Battle of Waterloo. So we first zoomed up to the little Briar's Pavilion, where he was taken when he first arrived in 1815. This was an attractive little Pavilion with fine views over the capital Jamestown – it was a place he quite liked, but Le Petit General was only to stay here for 3 months while his permanent home was being prepared for him at Longwood House.

From here, we whizzed along the switchback bends to see Napoleon's Tomb, where he was laid to rest after his death in 1821. His resting place here was certainly a beautiful and peaceful spot, surrounded by flowers and with sweeping views over the island's green countryside. However, his time on the island was not a very happy one – having to deal with ill-health, loneliness, constant supervision, and a lack of recognition of his status as ex-Emperor. Even in death, he wasn't given the respect he felt he deserved – the British refused to allow his gravestone to be marked with just the single name "Napoleon", because this would have inferred royal status. So, the tombstone was left blank, and his body was eventually moved back to France in 1840.

Next, we drove onto the place where he spent the majority of his time on the island, Longwood House – a grand stately home that felt like it wouldn't be too bad a place to be "imprisoned". Unfortunately, Napoleon was in no mood to be impressed by his surroundings, so he complained constantly about the place. What particularly got to him, was that it was constantly damp in this inland spot; and, even today, in spite of the dehumidifiers, the house had a musty smell. The French have since removed all the furnishings from his stay here, but it was well re-constructed, although the original wallpaper, which may (or more probably may not) have poisoned him through the use of arsenic in its dyes, wasn't there.

After this, we drove over to the Governor's Residence, the stately Georgian Plantation House. The house wasn't open to the public, but the grounds were, so we were able to see the island's oldest resident, an old giant tortoise called Jonathan, who's reputed to be almost 200 years old – which would mean that he might be able to remember Napoleon. Actually, he looked like he was on death's door himself – scarcely able to lift his head off the ground.

Our final destination on our whistle-stop tour, was to drive to the top of Jamestown's most famous sight, Jacobs Ladder, an incredibly steep and long staircase of 699 steps, leading up to a fortress on the top of the gorge overlooking the capital. I had the excuse of needing to drive the car back into town, but Tracy decided that she would complete the St Helena right of passage, by walking down.

Apparently, the record for an ascent is a thigh-burning 5 minutes, and according to Tracy, it's actually more difficult to come down than go up – certainly her thighs had a severe case of the shakes by the time I met her at the bottom.

At the end of a stay that was all-too-brief, all passengers agreed that this was a charming little island that they'd felt privileged to visit. From the sea, the island looks barren and forbidding, but once you get into the interior, you find that it's lush and green. There's a fascinating history to discover, its relaxed people are delightful, plus there's the added curiosity to visiting one of the most remote places on the planet.

I'm not sure I'd like to live on St Helena, but it's a great place to visit.