The anti-itinerary safari

For decades, all-inclusive safaris have followed the same schedule. Pre-dawn wake-up calls. Game drives that leave on time whether you’re ready or not. Structured mealtimes. Planned downtime. Communal meals. It’s a structure most accept as part of the deal. But what if that’s not the way a safari is meant to be enjoyed?

As a born and bred South African, the safari holiday isn’t once-in-a-lifetime for me. It’s something of a routine. An annual, or even more frequent, event. And to be honest I’d never really questioned its structure. But during a recent stay at an ultra-luxury private villa in South Africa’s Madikwe Game Reserve, I experienced something that felt fundamentally different from any safari I’d done before. It wasn’t just more exclusive or more indulgent, it was freer. Unscripted. Almost deliberately anti-safari in the way it dismantled everything I’d come to expect.

A safari without a schedule

Sure, at some of South Africa’s biggest game reserves, you can self-drive, self-cater and set your own safari schedule. But if you’re after the trimmings that the quintessential all-inclusive safari offers then you’re pretty much bound by a daily schedule that isn’t your own. In the past it was ideal, expected even, especially in a world where set tours and group holidays were in vogue. But with travel trends favouring personalisation and experiential-led holidays, the typical safari feels oddly dated now.

Enter our experience staying at The Royal Villa at Royal Madikwe. The villa was entirely ours. Not just a private suite within a lodge. We had the whole lodge to ourselves, supported by a dedicated team of eight to ten staff focused solely on our family. There were no fixed mealtimes unless we asked for them. No incessant ringing of a telephone followed by a voice asking if we were awake – “Um, well we are now.” Game drives happened if and when we wanted them to for as long, or short, as we felt like it. A private chef cooked whatever we felt like eating, from perfectly cooked steak to fresh prawns, when we felt like eating it. The minibar wasn’t a symbolic tick box; it was a walk-in wine cellar and a fully stocked fridge. And the heated plunge pool became the centre of the day, not the too-cold amenity it so often is, lovely to look at but unused between a day filled with activities.

What surprised me most was that wildlife viewing didn’t suffer in the slightest. Lions and wild dogs were regular sightings. Cheetah too. The old adage of being up before the sun to see predators didn’t seem to apply here.

The way we travel has changed

But this shift away from the scheduled safari isn’t just happening at places like Royal Madikwe. Travellers are choosing private riads over hotels in Marrakech, villas over resorts in the Caribbean, and houses over hotels in Europe. For me, it’s about privacy, control, and the feeling that the experience adapts to us. We’ve moved away from being forced to enjoy our holiday, bound by some pre-conceived notion of where we need to be when. After all, the minute-to-minute planning of our lives is exactly what we’re trying to escape on holiday, isn’t it?

But why isn’t a personal safari really a thing? Safaris, curiously, have been slow to embrace this model.

Part of that delay makes sense. Safari logistics are complex. Wildlife areas operate under strict conservation rules. Guides, trackers, vehicles, chefs, and hospitality staff all need to work in harmony, often in remote environments. Traditional lodge formats are efficient, predictable, and easier to manage. They’ve also been wildly successful for decades. Why would you change something that isn’t broken?

But Africa is uniquely suited to private villa safaris in a way few destinations are. Vast landscapes, low-density reserves, extraordinary staff-to-guest ratios, and people with deeply ingrained cultures of service and hospitality, mean the personal safari is a no brainer. And it makes sense that this shift in the safari world is happening now, even if Africa, as it so often is, is a bit late to the party. After years of hyper-connectivity, algorithm-driven itineraries, and travel designed for consumption rather than experience, there’s a craving for something slower.

Private villas, like those offered at Royal Madikwe, allow for that in a way traditional safari models struggle to do. They offer a reset and a return to why I’m drawn to the bush in the first place.

Why choose a private villa for your safari

On a traditional safari, the day is built around maximising sightings. On a villa safari, the day is built around you. That doesn’t mean less wildlife, but it does mean more choice. I like that you can sit out a morning drive without guilt. Head out late because a sleep in on holiday is what your body needs. Return early because you’d rather swim and actually enjoy the lodge you’ve forked out thousands to stay at. Linger at a sighting or with a G&T in the middle of nowhere. Or skip the drive entirely and let the animals come to you.

This autonomy becomes even more powerful for families, groups, or those who’ve been on safari before. When you remove the pressure of ticking boxes or attending every scheduled activity, the experience changes. The pressure evaporates. Conversations deepen. You can stop watching the clock. And heaven forbid, actually relax.

There’s also an intimacy to private villas that traditional lodges can’t easily replicate. You get the same guide, chef, waiter and child minder throughout the stay. Meals are shaped around your personal preferences rather than set menus. Staff quickly learn how you take your coffee, when you like to eat, whether you want company or quiet. Over a few days, it feels less like being hosted and more like a home you never knew you wanted or truly needed.

In today’s fast-paced world, it’s the luxury of not being rushed. Of not having to share space if you don’t want to.

Personally, I hope it’s less of a trend and more of an evolution. One that aligns the safari experience with how people want to travel now. Because once you’ve experienced the bush on your own terms, it’s hard to imagine going back to a bell ringing you out of bed before dawn. Unless, of course, you feel like it.