Our days in St Lucia, tucked inside the iSimangaliso Wetland Park, felt like stepping into a living aviary where every bird seemed impossibly rare. One wild night a storm rolled through and left us a bit damp, though the tent held firm and its built‑in mosquito net did its job. I somehow slept through the whole thing, while Fiona found the thunder far less charming. The monkeys did try and wreck the tent by trampolining on it, but it managed to survive somehow. Hippos filled every pool and lake around the camp, and at night they wandered casually down the main street alongside warthogs as we ate at a restaurant. We took a boat trip to watch hippos and Nile crocodiles up close, but the birds were my favourite—new species like the Green Malkoha, Palm‑nut Vulture and Trumpeter Hornbill in their natural world. And in perfect St Lucia fashion, Fiona bought an enormous sugar‑cone ice cream that melted faster than she could eat it in the humid heat, which felt especially fitting given we were staying at the Sugar Loaf campsite