Op-Ed: A tourism outlook on religious rights in South Africa

Religious tourism is a form of special interest tourism and is one of the oldest forms of tourism recorded in history. It is assumed that internationally 25% of the traveling public are interested in faith-based tourism.

When one adds to this the number of people who travel for faith-based conventions, and faith based activities such as weddings, bar mitzvahs or funerals, the number becomes extraordinarily large. World Religious Travel is one of the fastest growing segments in travel today. Religious travel is estimated at a value of US$18 billion, involving 300 million travellers.

South Africa's CRL Rights Commission will conduct an investigative study into the commercialisation of religion and the abuse of people's belief systems. This was a unanimous decision by the Commission for the Promotion and Protection of the Rights of Cultural, Religious and Linguistic Communities. *

The CLR Report, released on 11 July 2017, noted prima facie evidence of commercialisation of religion and recognised that foreign religious leaders, who operate foreign-based churches in South Africa, may have misused the South African visa application process. The CLR report noted that some pastors applied for a different type of visa, and yet once inside the country, they demand a permanent or residence visa.

Uncontrolled movement of cash in and out of the country

In addition, the CLR report noted an uncontrolled movement of cash in and out of the country, where some religious institutions tell their congregants that money has to be paid to their head office. Most of these head offices are based outside the country, and the money is repatriated out of the country without applying to the Reserve Bank.

These challenges would have to be addressed by the popular religious leaders that frequent South Africa, so that religious tourism can continues to grow in South Africa. Foreign pastors that have a local presence, include Nigerian TB Joshua of the Synagogue, Church of All Nations (SCOAN).

There was an accident that killed more than 80 South African's when a guesthouse collapsed at the SCOAN, but this has not deterred South Africans from travelling to Nigeria to attend the SCOAN. Demand to travel to Nigeria to visit the SCOAN remains robust from South Africa, considering the cost is around R24 000.

TB Joshua is unlikely to visit South Africa due to the uncertainty related to possible arrest for the loss of South African lives when the guesthouse collapsed. This means that South Africa misses out on the thousands of pilgrims that usually attend his events hosted by TB Joshua.

TB Joshua remains the primary tourism resource for Nigeria, where eight out of 10 tourists who arrive are headed to the SCOAN. Even since the guesthouse collapse, TB Joshua has yet to visit South Africa. This means a potential loss of millions to South Africa, which is being redirected to Nigeria.SA.

Midrand likely to become a site of religious pilgrimage

Pretoria is not a traditional leisure destination, but the church services by Shepherd Bushiri, at the Pretoria Showgrounds attract more than 300 000 people. The Malawian prophet is based in South Africa. Major One is building a mega church in Midrand, that will be a site of religious pilgrimage for thousands of local and regional tourists.

Shepherd Bushiri should be granted permanent residency as he is a contributor towards economic growth.

Thanks to the government of Botswana for putting on visa regulations on South Africa based Shepherd Bushiri, who heads the Enlightened Christian Church, Pretoria will continue to benefit from thousands of Batswana that visit South Africa to attend the church services.

Soweto benefited from two New Year's Crossover services in 2016 at Orlando Stadium and FNB Stadium. Pastor Chris Oyakhilome's crossover service at a 36 000 seated sold out Orlando Stadium, was broadcast to millions of worshippers, via live television, radio and the internet.

Sold out crossover services

Bushiri brought glitz and glamour as he sold out FNB Stadium, with more than 120 000 people attending the "Night of Honey" service. It was not the first time that Bushiri had sold out FNB Stadium. The first was the 2015 New Year's Crossover ''Lion of Judah''.

These events have been able to bring in thousands of religious tourists to South Africa benefiting the local economy. As we have learnt when the visa regulations were introduced, the unintended consequences of legislation must be analysed on what impact they may have on the tourism sector generally, and religious tourism specifically.

Foreign pastors would have to comply with South African legislation so that they can continue to benefit the growth of religious tourism in South Africa. Tourism continues to bring the bacon home with 13% growth in 2016.

The CRL Rights Commission is one of the Chapter Nine Institutions.

 Unathi Sonwabile Henama teaches tourism at Tshwane University of Technology and writes in his personal capacity.

Source: Op-Ed: A tourism outlook on religious rights in South Africa

Sudan: Africa’s other pyramids

The car crunches across the sandy plain and deposits us, in silence, behind a hillock. The hour is early and a wash of violet stains the sky behind me, as I shoulder my small bag and set off westwards. The cool sand spills over my flip-flops, so I bend to remove them, planting my feet awkwardly into the deep dunes. The exertion pulls beads of sweat to my forehead despite the crisp morning air.

As I pace up the last incline, my eyes come level with what we've risen before dawn to see: the UNESCO-listed pyramids of Meroë. They're part of a cache of royal burial sites whose 4,600-year-old, Toblerone-style peaks far outnumber those of Egypt and yet receive far fewer visitors. Negative news coverage has left travellers wary of Sudan — that, and the fact "the government isn't interested in promoting our antiquities because it's not Arab history," according to my guide, Hitam El Nour. A Nubiologist (archaeologist specialising in Ancient Nubia) with a PhD in White Nile pottery, the only thing betraying his 47 years are the white hairs among his tight black curls.

We stand in the noiseless desert, the kataha ('sandy air') blowing softly around us until the sun rises above the horizon, lighting the pyramids like shards of honeycomb protruding from the sand. We're surveying the northern site, where the great Kushite queens and kings were buried. Ruled by the Egyptians for 500 years, the Kushites absorbed all aspects of Egyptian culture, including the penchant for pyramids, albeit with their own twist: making them steeper with smaller bases. In 760BC, when the Egyptian empire was weakening, these Nubian emperors invaded and ruled as pharaohs for nearly a century during a period known as the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty. Their empire stretched from Khartoum to the Mediterranean Sea, with Meroë as the capital. Only discovered by Europeans in 1821, the pyramids were looted a decade later by Italian explorer Giuseppe Ferlini, although all but one were empty.

Today, we weave between the pyramids whose bases have history scratched into the stone: from the outlines of elephants, giraffe and gazelles showing that this area was once fertile grassland, to the graffiti left by British General Sir Herbert Kitchener's soldiers passing by on their way to the Battle of Omdurman in 1898.

Several archaeologists, making the most of the cooler early morning hours, are painstakingly restoring the crumbling corners. They nod sagely as we pass, before returning to their work. One of the smaller pyramids, restored in the 1980s, bears a smooth rendered exterior. But it looks a little cartoonish and I veer towards the untouched structures. There's an air of defiance about them as they stand firm against the sands that are trying to swallow them up.

Indeed, it was an act of resistance that led to the pyramids at Meroë being built in the first place. "History tells us that Kushite King Arakamani (Ergamenes) grew tired of the power wielded by the high priests, so when they sent the order for him to kill himself, he responded by having them all murdered instead," says Hitam. The rebellion issued in a new era of Meroitic culture: the almighty Egyptian god Amun-Ra was downgraded in favour of the lion god Abedemak, the (still-undeciphered) Meroitic script was created and queens ruled the army. As we enter one of the narrow tombs, Hitam points to the walls. "See how the kings stand taller than the gods? You'll never see that in Egypt," he says. "The kings controlled everything, except death, so they built the pyramids for [their] immortality." We exit into the burgeoning sunlight.

Unharassed by touts or hemmed in by barriers, I get a genuine sense of exploration as we duck into different doorways and I run my fingers lightly over the ancient etching on the walls. Eventually, we come to tomb number six, which belonged to the warrior queen, Amanishakheto. It was the first one destroyed by Ferlini in his search for gold and the one in which he hit the jackpot, unearthing a stash of jewellery hidden near the apex. In brutish fashion, he crowbarred the cartouche of her face off the slabs of stone at the entrance — but it has since been replaced with a replica, and I trace my finger over three scratches raked across her cheek. "What are these?" I ask. "They're the tribal markings of Kushite women," Hitam explains.

The heat is rising fast. Here, the dry air doesn't just make you sweat; it blasts the moisture from you like a hairdryer, so we take a chance and make our way to the old Royal City of Meroë nearby. We find it closed for excavations, but at the gate meet Mawya, a third-generation guardian whose grandfather helped the first archaeologists unearth the site in 1909. I ask him for stories of the past. He leans on the door frame and looks far into the distance. "My grandmother told me that during the rainy season, they'd all run to collect the gold when it washed from the tombs to the surface."

It's time to return to Khartoum, but en route we stop at the home of Mr Hassan and his wife, Zakia. Sitting on weathered plastic chairs, we enjoy the cool shade of their whitewashed compound. Hitam looks at me to see if I've noticed anything, but he needn't have. As Zakia hands me a flute of piping hot coffee, I catch sight of a trio of tribal markings flowing, like dry riverbeds, towards her jaw. They're exactly like those marking the likeness of Queen Amanishakheto at Meroë. A true Nubian, Zakia's ancestors are direct descendants of the Kushites. All of a sudden ancient history doesn't seem so distant.

Jebel Barkal. Image: Getty

Sudan's other ancient sites

Jebel BarkalThe 'holy mountain' was believed by the Kushites to be the home of the god Amun-Ra due to its cobra-head pinnacle (cobras appear on the crown of Nubian kings). All Kushite kings and queens had their coronation here. El-KurruThe first royal burial site of the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty Kushite kings to make use of pyramids. While the surviving structures have lost their shape, the site's two open tombs are covered with exquisite wall paintings, featuring scenes from the Book of the Dead. NuriThe 60-odd pyramids at this royal burial site haven't weathered so well, but this doesn't diminish its beauty. The towering tombs of the great Napatan King Taharqa and King Aspeltaremain impressive. SolebThe best-preserved Egyptian temple on Sudanese soil. It was founded by Amenhotep III and visited by none other than child-king Tutankhamun, who inscribed his name on one of the Prudhoe Lions that now stands in the British Museum.

Explore offers a 12-day Ancient Nubia Explorer trip, from £3,349 per person, including return flights, accommodation, most meals, transport and the services of a guide, driver and cook.

More info: Sudan Bradt Travel Guide, RRP: £16.99. bradtguides.com

Published in Experiences 2017, published with the Jul/Aug 2017 issue of National Geographic Traveller (UK)

Source: Sudan: Africa's other pyramids

Eritrea: Can You Travel to Africa’s Hermit Kingdom?

It's Africa's most secretive state and the source of tens of thousands of migrants who have fled towards Europe.

But Eritrea is also now home to a UNESCO World Heritage Site after the cultural organization added the capital Asmara to its list. Home to art deco buildings constructed by Italian colonialists in the 1930s, UNESCO described Asmara as an "exceptional example of early modernist urbanism at the beginning of the 20th century and its application in an African context."

The declaration has led to a slew of positive media coverage for a country that has been ranked as the world's worst place for press freedom in eight of the past nine years by Reporters Sans Frontieres. Commentators have dubbed Eritrea as "Africa's North Korea," and rights groups have accused the government of widespread repression and abuses.

Daily Emails and Alerts - Get the best of Newsweek delivered to your inbox

A Fiat car drives along a street in Eritrea's capital Asmara, February 20, 2016. Thomas Mukoya/Reuters

But given the new designation, there may be an increase in interest from potential tourists in the Horn of Africa state. So, what does it take to go to Eritrea?

Read more: "Eritrea is a mutant copy of North Korea," says a reporter from the land of no journalists

Firstly, several Western governments warn against traveling to the country. The State Department "warns U.S. citizens of the risks of travel to Eritrea," saying that the Asmara government restrict the travel of all foreign nationals within the country. The note is less strongly-worded than other travel warnings made by the U.S.—for neighboring Sudan, for example, the advisory simply "warns U.S. citizens not to travel to Sudan"—but points to the potential for obstacles to travel to, and within, Eritrea.

Obtaining a visa for travel from the U.S. to Eritrea is relatively straightforward: Asmara has an embassy in Washington; a tourist visa costs $50; and processing time is a minimum of 10 days. Dual U.S.-Eritrean nationals, or others holding an Eritrean ID card, are not required to obtain visas.

But according to an Amnesty International researcher who has traveled to Eritrea four times, foreigners are likely to face questioning when they arrive in the country. "You would need to explain yourself; the government is pretty skeptical of people coming," says the researcher, who asks to remains anonymous for security reasons. "If you're a foreigner and not Eritrean, they are going to ask you why you want to come, because they are skeptical of foreign influence in Eritrea."

A man walks past the Fiat Tagliero building designed by the Italian architect Giuseppe Pettazzi in a futuristic style and completed in 1938 in Eritrea's capital Asmara, February 20, 2016. Thomas Mukoya/Reuters

This skepticism is unsurprising given Eritrea's history. The country, which lies just across the Red Sea from Saudi Arabia and Yemen, was colonized by Italy, then Britain, then Ethiopia, until gaining independence following a bloody 30-year war in 1991.

And since the early 2000s, Eritrea has gained a reputation as an international pariah. The country cracked down heavily on private media in 2001, leaving only state-run media houses in operation, to criticism from rights groups. In 2009, the U.N. Security Council imposed an arms embargo and travel ban on Eritrean leaders after finding that the state had supported the Islamist rebels Al-Shabab in Somalia, an accusation Eritrea denied. More recently, the U.S. banned dealings with the Eritrean navy, after a U.N. body said it had evidence of Eritrea trading in military equipment with North Korea, which Washington is trying to isolate in a bid to neutralize its nuclear threat.

Once in Eritrea, Asmara is an impressive destination, according to Ahmed Soliman, a researcher for Chatham House, an international affairs think tank in the U.K., who has been to the city twice for business. "It's one of the most architecturally stunning cities that I've been to," says Soliman, who last visited in 2016 for 10 days.

Soliman says that the main street in Asmara's city center, Harnet Avenue, is lined with cafes, shops and restaurants that would be found in any Western capital. He particularly recommends the Spaghetti and Pizza House, a homage to the country's Italian influence.

A patron sits inside the coffee shop in the foyer of the Roma Cinema on Samatat Avenue in Eritrea's capital Asmara, February 20, 2016. Thomas Mukoya/Reuters

Besides Asmara, Eritrea has several other notable sites. The port city of Massawa was once called the "Pearl of the Red Sea" and hosts now-crumbling Ottoman, Egyptian and Italian architecture, while the nearby Dahlak Islands—a contested archipelago in the Red Sea—are home to a Qatari-funded luxury resort (as well as a secret prison, according to Human Rights Watch).

But according to the Amnesty International researcher, leaving Asmara is not a simple process for tourists. "There are travel restrictions but also checkpoints that increase in number when there are a lot of foreigners or diaspora in town," the researcher says.

Historically, tourism has not been a big industry for Eritrea: Western states advise citizens not to travel to certain parts of the country—for example along the volatile Ethiopian border—and the presence of landmines have deterred many foreign visitors.

An Eritrean soldier looks through a spyhole on the frontline in Badme, Eritrea, March 2, 2000, during a border war with Ethiopia. SS/CLH/Reuters

The designation of a world heritage site can result in an uptick in tourism, and the Amnesty researcher says the new label should prompt the government to restore the city's architecture. Soliman, the Chatham House researcher,  says he would like to return to Eritrea as a tourist to see more of the country. "Eritrea isn't a dangerous place, you don't see any danger, you don't feel danger in Asmara when you are there, it's very much the opposite," he says. Having not traveled outside the capital, however, he admits that his experience is only of a "microcosm" of the country as a whole.

Asmara itself has welcomed the new designation. Eritrea's permanent representative to UNESCO, Hanna Simon, described it as "a symbol of pride and achievement for the Eritrean people and shoulders the responsibility to maintain its status," according to a statement from the Eritrean information ministry's outlet Shabait.

The statement also noted that the new status "will potentially benefit Eritrea in the tourism sector." Should that be the case, a little more light may be shed on Africa's outcast state.

Source: Eritrea: Can You Travel to Africa's Hermit Kingdom?

Sudan a Growing Tourism Destination - UN

Geneva — Sudan witnessed a 118 per cent increase in the number of tourist arrivals within three years. Four out of ten international tourists in Africa come from the continent itself.

The international tourism to the continent has more than doubled since 1990, according to a report by the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD). It expects that the rate will grow exponentially the coming years, turning Africa into one of the fastest growing tourism destinations in the world.

As for Sudan, the country attracted nearly 50,000 visitors in 2010 (numbers of South Sudan included) and 108,000 visitors in 2013.

International tourist arrivals

1995-1998 2005-2008 2011-2014 2015

Sudan 33,000 363,000 597,000 741,000

Africa Total 24,084,000 47,819,000 55,931,000 52,803,000

Sudan includes South Sudan up to 2011, of which no statistics were reported.

(Source: UNCTAD calculations, based on data from UNWTO)

Much of Africa's international travel has taken place within Africa. Almost four out of 10 international tourists to Africa originated from Africa in 2010-2013, but the numbers fluctuate significantly. In Sudan the share of tourists from Africa was less than 15 per cent, and unlike Morocco, Egypt, Gambia, the Seychelles and Mauritius it is not a major destination for European tourists.

Visiting relatives

Given the ongoing migration flows on the continent, international tourists from African countries visiting friends and relatives also account for these high volumes, the researchers stressed. Additionally migrant workers are likely to visit relatives at home periodically, thus contributing to the number of tourist arrivals.

Libya, for example, hosted more than one million migrants before the uprising against the former regime, and they came predominantly from neighbouring countries such as Sudan, Chad, Egypt, and Tunisia.

Political instability

In the report, Sudan is among the five African countries with the lowest scores in political stability and absence of violence. Countries affected by political unrest tend to experience a decline in the number of international tourist arrivals and tourism receipts. The social and economic consequences of political turmoil and a lack of peace can thus have significant effects on the growth of tourism.

The total contribution of tourism to Sudan's Real Gross Domestic Product as an average for the period 2011-2014 does not exceed ten per cent, meaning the economy is not dependent on tourism. UNCTAD calculated the contribution of tourism to the GDP at 5.1 per cent, but the share grew with 16 per cent during this period.

The UNCTAD used the states' annual change in the share of agricultural value as key indicator for economic development. In most countries, this indicator is negative without a fall in food production levels, indicating structural change caused by the growth of tourism arrivals and work in this sector. Sudan scores lowest of all African countries in this indicator, with an average 0.5 per cent increase in its agricultural share per year from 1995 to 2014.

Gender pay gap

Compared with other sectors, female leadership in tourism is relatively high, the researchers found. Women constitute 36 per cent of tourism ministers in Africa, the highest percentage seen anywhere in the world. There is a considerable gender pay gap in the tourism sector. In the hotels and restaurants sector, women earn on average 10 per cent less than men worldwide as well as in Africa. According to the report several factors may contribute to this, including direct discrimination against women and restricted working hours for women with childcare responsibilities.

Source: Sudan a Growing Tourism Destination - UN

Destination Madagascar

Written by: Jozef de Coster

Jozef de Coster (know more)

Madagascar expects the country's textiles and apparel industry to create 200,000 supplementary jobs in the next five years. The African country is among few in the world that has been seeing an acceleration in both textile imports as well as apparel exports. This is a country that has had cultural and trade ties with India since the early fourth century, and with the Indian government opening a $10 billion line of credit over the next five years for Indian companies wishing to invest in Africa, it is a land that beckons, Jozef De Coster, reports from Antananarivo.

 

While global textile trade continues growing at a sluggish pace, in some particular countries an impressive acceleration of textile imports and garment exports can be noticed. One of these countries is the Indian Ocean island of Madagascar. During the 7th edition of the annual event Origin Africa at Antananarivo last November, a number of Malagasy and foreign garment manufacturers testified they are strongly expanding or setting up new production capacities in Madagascar responding to fast rising demand.

Madagascar is no terra incognita for India. Cultural and trade relations between India and Africa go back to ancient times-from early fourth-century trade, through Britain's shipments of Indian labour to work on colonial projects, to political cooperation during the struggle for Africa's independence. Trade between the two countries is on the rise. Data from the Indian government and the African Development Bank show that bilateral trade between India and Africa rose from a very modest $1.1 billion in 1995 to $75 billion in 2015. Overall, since 2010, India's exports to Africa have increased by 93 per cent while imports rose by 28 per cent.

China and US far ahead

Though India is apparently successful in its relations with Africa, it's still no match for the US and China in terms of political and economic influence and foreign direct investment. Prime Minister Narendra Modi wants to do something about that. At the end of the 2015 India-Africa Forum Summit, a three-yearly event, he announced a $10 billion line of credit over the next five years for Indian companies wishing to invest in Africa. In July 2016, Modi made a four-nation African tour (his first-ever), on the heels of President Pranab Mukherjee who made a first-ever visit to Africa a month prior. At the opening of the Annual Meetings of the African Development Bank (AfDB) Group in Gandhinagar in May 2017, Modi said his government has made Africa a top priority for foreign and economic policy. Pitching for an Asia-Africa growth corridor, Modi said India's commodity trade with Africa in 2015-16 was higher than its commodity trade with the US.

In markets like the US and Europe, many Indian FDI-and trade projects greatly benefit from the market knowhow and business advice offered by the Indian diaspora. There's also an Indian diaspora in Africa. The Indian population in Africa, including people of Indian descent, was estimated to be about 2.7 million in 2015. More than half of them are settled in South Africa, and a third in Mauritius. Many of them are successful as manufacturers and traders. So, it was no surprise that people with Indian names and looks were conspicuously present at the Origin Africa event in Antananarivo, here Mauritian and South African companies dominated foreign participation.

Source: Destination Madagascar

It is the end of the world: Travel experts choose one last fantasy travel destination

Sok Kwu Wan Village on Lamma Island in Hong Kong.  Photo: iStock

of

The Mumbai Pune railway track in the Indian state of Maharashtra. Photo: iStock

of

Herod build this aqueduct in the first century BC in Caesarea, near Tel Aviv, Israel. Photo: iStock

of

Minarets of Sinan Basha Mosque and Al-Jazzar mosque, Acre, Israel. Photo: Supplied

of

View to Jerusalem old city. Photo: iStock

of

Waterfall with Mt Fitz Roy in the background, Los Glaciares National Park, El Chalten, Argentina. Photo: istock

of

The Perito Moreno Glacier in the Los Glaciares National Park in Patagonia, Argentina.  Photo: iStock

of

Standing over a crevasse on the Perito Moreno Glacier in the Andes, southern Argentina. Photo: iStock

of

Mount Fitz Roy, Los Glaciares National Park, Patagonia, Argentina. Photo: Supplied

of

Guanacos in Patagonia, Argentina. Photo: iStock

of

The Okavango delta, Botswana. Photo: iStock

of

Okavango Delta, Botswana. Photo: iStock

of

Afternoon at Khwai area in Botswana. Photo: iStock

of

Leopard in the Chitabe Concession, Botswana.  Photo: iStock

of

Tourists taking a break by the steps of the Arsenale, Venice, Italy. Photo: iStock

of

Burano, Venice. Photo: iStock

of

The canals of Venice, Italy. Photo: iStock

of

The Pulcino della Minerva, elephant sculpture, is the base of one of Rome's eleven Egyptian obelisks. Photo: iStock

of

Holy cow standing on the platform of a small train station in Phulad, India. Photo: iStock

of

Rome's Piazza del popolo at sunset. Photo: iStock

of

Max Mara shop on Via Condotti in Rome, Italy. Photo: iStock

of

Villa Borghese, Rome, Italy. Photo: iStock

of

The church of Santa Maria degli Angeli in Rome. Photo: iStock

of

Pantheon by night, Rome, Italy. 

of

The historic city centre of Zurich with famous Fraumunster Church and swans on river Limmat. Photo: iStock

of

Moron, on the way to the Lake Hovsgol in the steppe of north Mongolia. Photo: iStock

of

The city of Pompeii was an ancient Roman town-city near modern Naples. Photo: iStock

of

Rhyolite, Nevada, US. Photo: iStock

of

The ruins of Pompeii. Photo: iStock

of

Pyongyang, North Korea. Photo: Supplied

of

Korean Workers' Party symbol, Pyongyang, North Korea. 

of

You may also like these photo galleries

Travel experts choose one last destination before the apocalypse

Advertisement

Close

It should, of course, be cause for concern: the end of the world; the coming of the apocalypse; the impending doom of our last collective day on Earth. As world leaders trade 140-character insults and missiles soar through our skies, it should be reason to take to the streets in panic.

However, we're not doing that. Instead, we're planning a celebration. If the end of the world really is nigh, then the team at Traveller would like to go out doing something we love. You wouldn't like to spend your hypothetical final 24 hours on this wonderful planet in fear, after all.

Ideally, your last day would be one of defiance, of joy, of raging against the dying of the light, of exalting in the things you cherish about this life and this Earth the most. That's how we feel, and our fantasy final day would, of course, be spent exploring the world. We would pass our last hours doing the things we love best: travelling, discovering, tasting, viewing, interacting, gazing, wandering, and enjoying.

Jerusalem's old city is a fine place to contemplate the meaning of life - and death. Photo: iStock

We would make those 24 hours a celebration of all that's good about this planet, all that we've loved seeing in our time as travellers. Each of us has our own preference of how and where we would conduct this final fling. From eating dim sum in Hong Kong, to wandering the streets of Rome; from cruising the Med to going on safari, or attending the Biennale – the common thread here is one of celebration, of a fantasy last hurrah spent doing the things we truly love.

Everyone's last day should be spent like this. It's time to rejoice.

THE INDULGENT TRAVELLER 

Julietta Jameson

My last day will be spent walking in beauty, to quote the poet Lord Byron who loved Rome like I do. I rise from the plushest of beds at 4am, huddling myself into a fluffy white towelling robe before stepping out onto my private terrace on the top floor of Rome's Intercontinental De La Ville. From one of the highest points in the city, I gaze across the analogue street lights, darkened verdant hills, glowing blue domes and terracotta villas and fall into a sacred moment of gratitude that my last day can be spent communing with such splendour.

"Buongiorno signora Jameson! You are up so early!" I engage with the doorman and the wonderful theatre of five-star life before stepping onto the quiet pre-dawn cobbled lanes alongside the garbos and street sweepers to see my Roman friends one last time: Bernini's Elephant and Obelisk, the basilica of Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Martiri, Michelangelo's wonder of symmetry and sequence built within the old Roman baths near Termini, and the ancient Pantheon, a symbol of stoic endurance amidst the fleeting moments of history, much like the city itself.

By now Rome is awake and I stand at a busy bar alongside the suits and perfectly blow-waved women, savouring a strong black coffee, a simple cheese and ham panini and a sip of prosecco – no one cares – before walking via the dazzling elegance of Piazza Navona to admire the buskers and street artists. On I walk, to Piazza del Popolo to pop a coin into a slot so the light comes on to illuminate the Caravaggio in the church there. His brilliance, as always, moves me to tears. 

I lunch on one of the sunny terraces that line the square, surrounded by designer sunglasses and linen shirts on impossibly good-looking men. I flirt with the waiter as I order an extra glass of wine to wash down my silky tortellini.

A post-prandial doze ensues, in the city's particularly golden sunshine, on a cool, thick lawn dotted with daisies in the Villa Borghese gardens. I might ride the carousel before wandering Via dei Coronari to try on heirloom jewellery and fondle exquisite antiques.

How did it get so late in the day with no gelati? Perhaps I should have had some for breakfast. Lucky the famous Gelateria del Teatro is here. Two scoops, in a cone; classic flavours of strawberry and maybe lemon. Today, it is not wrong to go back for seconds.

I buy a crazy expensive dress on via Condotti, head up the Spanish Steps to my hotel, and open a bottle of soave to sip as the sun begins to drop. I do my hair and make-up, slip on my new frock and take my time getting to that little family-owned trattoria I know on the square off the beaten path, with the al fresco seating that faces a grand church and where the whole host family, bambini included, welcome you like one of their own. 

Fresh crusty bread, antipasti, pasta, wine, tiramisu and the box seat as the setting sun paints the church's facade – I toast this day, this city and this life, that has been full of beauty and splendour when I have been open to it like this, and as I have always been when in Rome. 

THE ADVENTURE TRAVELLER

Andrew Bain

If I'm confronting the end of the world, I want to do so at one of the geographic ends of the world: Patagonia, the place I consider the most naturally beautiful and wild at once. Here, wind, ice, rain and glaciers have carved a startling landscape that has an undeniable sense of fury and finality.

From the ever-expanding Argentine town of El Calafate, I'll set out early for Moreno Glacier, boating across Lago Argentino beneath the 70-metre-high terminus of the glacier. Almost certainly, seracs will be calving away from its snout, tumbling into the lake in powerful eruptions of water and ice.

On rock shelves across the lake, I'll don a set of crampons for a guided hike up through the glacier's magical maze of ice. Crunching along ridges of compacted ice, we'll wander up to the final bend in Moreno's frozen journey, where its surface fractures like broken honeycomb, creating spectacular fins and towers of ice.

I'm hoping the world ends in the southern summer, so that the long days allow me time to dash from Moreno Glacier to the climbers' haven of El Chalten, don my backpack and set out on foot through the lenga beech scrub towards my favourite mountain in the world: Monte Fitz Roy. 

It's a place as suitably end-of-the-world as I know, for the winds here are often apocalyptic – I've hiked in 160km/h winds in Patagonia that had locals blithely shrugging their shoulders as if to say "just another day". The walk into the base of Monte Fitz Roy is a simple one, following the Chorrillo del Salto upstream and finally to the incomparable Laguna de los Tres. This small lake, pooled in a barren hollow ground out by a long-gone glacier, sits at the foot of Monte Fitz Roy and a glacier that spills from around it. 

The mountain looms large from its shores, its tip rising about 2000 metres overhead, with a wall of summit rock that is itself more than a kilometre high. Little wonder it's considered one of the world's great climbing challenges. But I'll be content to sit by the lake and watch sunset do its artistic thing across the range and the typically moody Patagonian sky.

In darkness, I'll switch on my head torch and wander back down the valley as far as Laguna Capri, where I'll pitch my tent among the wind-blocking lenga, because if by any chance the sun should happen to rise again, there are few views that make you feel as good about being alive as the glowing dawn image of Monte Fitz Roy from beside your tent at Laguna Capri.

THE INTREPID TRAVELLER

Ben Groundwater

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack. This would be the soundtrack to my last day on Earth: the staccato beat of wheels on rails. It would be the screech of metal as brakes are applied. It would be the trill of a conductor's whistle, the slamming of doors.

The soundtrack to my last day on Earth would be conversations in 20 different languages. It would be the shuffle of a thousand feet, the hum of humanity on the move. 

I would spend these precious final hours on a train in India with a second-class sleeper ticket to nowhere. It wouldn't matter where the train was going. It wouldn't even matter where it had begun. The experience is what counts, the experience of being in those carriages, of crossing that land. 

It sounds strange, I know. Your last day on Earth and you'd spend it sitting in a train? In second class? In India?

Hear me out.

Everything that's great about travel is wheezing along those Indian railway tracks 24 hours a day, every day, slowly making its way across the great subcontinent. Everything that we as travellers crave, everything we love, is being carted around on those rattling wheels.

A train ride in India is people; it's so many people. It's the best and worst of humanity, a microcosm of the world, a glorious mix of every type of human imaginable (and at least one of them is probably sitting in your seat, or asking you to move over so they can share it). It's the kindness of strangers who offer to share their lunch. It's the frank stares of people who've never seen anything like you before. It's the yell of touts selling snacks. It's the funk of sweat and spice.

But it's not just what's inside that counts. The attraction of an Indian train ride is what you see outside as well, a million snapshots of everyday life, a highlight reel of houses and rickshaws, people and animals, fields and trees, gone as fast as they appear. There's never a dull moment when you stare out from a train in India, never a second when that grubby window isn't framing something incredible or horrible or fascinating.

So yes, I would spend my last day in an Indian train. I would eat great food and chat to strangers and lie there on the top bunk and just watch as the world went by.

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack. On into the night. 

THE FOODIE TRAVELLER

Larissa Dubecki

The good news about the end of the world is that it's no time to diet. Quite the opposite – what better excuse to pig out with no heed for tomorrow? On a mission to eat your way to the end of the world, the choice of location is obvious. Hong Kong. The compact island with the highest concentration of restaurants in the world (last estimate: one restaurant for every 600 people) it's an endless feast where one can indulge in gluttony from morning to midnight at any budget. 

The last day on Earth does not begin at the hotel breakfast buffet. Don't waste good stomach space on the Esperanto of food when you could head to Sang Kee, a no-frills canteen in Burd Street, Sheung Wan, where the cloud-like pork ball congee will set you up for the day. Nix the Chinese doughnuts (we are pacing ourselves) but maybe double down on the ginger slivers (they calm the stomach, and there is an onslaught ahead).

Your congee appetiser done, it's time to turn thoughts to yum cha, one of the things that make life worth living (oh, the irony). Today we're heading to the luxe Golden Leaf in the basement of the five-star Conrad Hotel. Embrace the service, embrace the slick interiors – hell, even embrace the champagne despite it not being midday yet – and certainly say, "hang the expense".

Order the braised abalone and the steamed birds' nest with gold leaf, as well as the excellent har gau.  Mutter a prayer of thanks for choosing pants with an elasticised waistband and take a breather on the 45-minute ferry heading to the lively restaurants lining the waterfront at Lamma Island. Try Lamma Rainbow: it's touristy but it's also super fun. The  live seafood from the tanks, simply cooked (don't be greedy, have just one lobster) is your best bet.  Back on the ferry, this time to Wan Chai, where Hong Kong institution Under Bridge Spicy Crab serves the famously spicy typhoon shelter crab in an atmosphere that's much like the end of the world, every day. Then catch a taxi to the last stop of the night, China Club. Housed on the top three floors of the original Bank of China building in the financial district, it takes its style from the days of Rule Britannia (gents are expected to wear a jacket, ladies something that swishes).

Opened in 1991, it is members-only (although they might relax protocol, seeing as it's the end of the world and all) but any self-respecting Hong Kong concierge should be able to commandeer a booking to this extravagant vision of Old Hong Kong. Here, a Canto feast of crystal prawns, suckling pig and Peking duck is just a formal waiter away. When the tea ceremony is over there's only one thing for it, old chaps. Take a martini onto the rooftop terrace and enjoy the show. 

THE NATURE TRAVELLER

Julie Miller

Noah, at least, must have been given ample warning to gather his wildlife flock in the face of impending doom. But without the luxury of time or ark-construction chops, this animal lover contemplating my last day of existence has little choice but to teleport to where I'll get the most bang for my four-legged buck in terms of volume, scale and biodiversity.

Let's face it, under these grim circumstances, I want as many "Oh, my god!" moments as possible with minimal effort. And for that, there's no more accomplished lover than Botswana's Okavango Delta.

From the air, the marital bed is laid out before me, a parched dustbowl dotted with clumps of stunted trees and the occasional muddy waterhole where herds of elephants, buffalo and tail-twirling warthog can be clearly spotted. But look! Here comes the flood, trickling like a leaky hose, creating a maze of lagoons and islands as the annual miracle transforms the scrubby landscape to a watery wonderland, exultant with leaping lechwe and wallowing hippos.

Africa's final dawn makes a statement, red ball piercing the mist as a sole giraffe bobs its head to an unheard rhythm, an iconic silhouette reflected in an ever-expanding pink lagoon. Time is clearly of the essence; by 7am we are in the saddle, setting off on what I believe it the ultimate way to view game – a horseback safari.

On a horse, you are more than just a casual observer in this ecosystem; unencumbered by glass and steel, you become part of the landscape, at one with the wildlife. We sneak within metres of a near-sighted bull elephant, before its inquiring trunk registers the scent of humans and we bid a slow retreat; while on other occasions we are grateful for our mounts' speed, cantering among a herd of giraffes, poetry in slow motion, or flanking a stampeding herd of buffalo at full gallop.

The afternoon brings more relaxing contemplation as we explore the mirrored waterways in a traditional dug-out canoe, or mokoro, manoeuvred stand-up style by our handsome guides. As we drift past lily pads, wary of the log-like snouts of crocodile and gaping jaws of hippos, we watch mesmerised as the sun dips over the horizon, absorbing the magic in appreciative silence.

Botswana continues to deliver to the bitter end; under the beam of a spotlight, we spot a leopard dragging a carcass into a tree; while an African wildcat sits unperturbed in the middle of the road, looking extraordinarily like a fat domestic tabby. Then, as the clock strikes midnight, I hear the roar of a lion on the prowl, echoing across the empty expanse. Perhaps I should throw caution to the wind and face that call of the wild – after all, I have nothing to lose.

THE CULTURAL TRAVELLER

Katrina Lobley

If it were the last day on Earth, I hope it falls in an odd year. For that's when the Venice Biennale – a prestigious international art fair – transforms the already magical city into something that can make you quite forget that the end of the world is nigh. The biennale, which sprawls over almost six months, is focused around two hubs – the Giardini and the Arsenale, a hop and a skip from St Mark's Square on the vaporetto. But the best part about the biennale is that it spreads beyond these official venues, turning Venice itself into one big art gallery. You round a corner, expecting nothing more than photogenic alleyways, canals, bridges, churches, palazzos and piazzas, to be taken aback by something sitting there in the name of art. A map helps you track down these surprises or simply let yourself stumble upon them.

The current biennale, which kicked off this month, runs until November 26. This year, Tracey Moffatt has become Australia's first Indigenous artist to have a solo show there, with an exhibition of photographs and video works titled My Horizon in the Australian Pavilion (a black brutalist cube in the Giardini). Another stand-out work comes from American artist Sheila Hicks – she has covered a wall in the Arsenale with a fibre installation resembling giant pom-poms. The biennale might sound as kitschy as a world expo – showcasing works from dozens of countries, including first-time participants Kiribati and Nigeria – but to me it's an extra sprinkling of fairy dust over one of the world's most compelling cities. 

If it is, indeed, my last day, then hang the expense of a gondola ride. I'd go crazy and book a whole hour with a good-looking gondolier, admiring how he keeps his vessel's paintwork scratch-free with a deft kick against the canal walls every now and then. Many gondoliers have amusing nicknames – ask around for Bei Capelli ("Beautiful Hair"). 

Take time to notice the little things that make Venice so transcendental. Peer at the street lamps, noting the glass that's a subtle shade of amethyst. Need time out to smell the roses but don't know where to find them? If you're staying at the Bauer Palazzo, hop into the hotel's chic speedboat and zip over to sister property, Bauer Palladio, on the island of Giudecca, to find the slightly wild secret garden of the former convent. Hungry? Cruise to Burano to feast on seafood at a homely restaurant tucked between the island's technicolour houses. 

If you're lucky, you're in Venice during the acqua alta when the water that both defines and threatens the city gurgles up through St Mark's Square, flooding the place, reflecting the lights and doubling its charm. Speaking of impending doom, how best to bow out with a flourish? There's only one way, really, and that's at Harry's Bar where the bellini was invented. Cheers, cin cin and all that. It's time to go out with a peach-scented bang.

THE CRUISE TRAVELLER

Brian Johnston

You couldn't fit a cruise into a day, but a week or two before the world's end I'd want to go back to where a lot of our world began. A cruise in the eastern Mediterranean would be my way of saying farewell to thousands of years of history and some of the civilisations which have had the most impact on our cultures and thoughts. Its archaeological sites are a who's who of history: Etruscans, Greeks and Cretans, Romans and Ottomans. Its religions, political thought, architecture and literature have, even unwittingly, affected us all.

Many cruises sail this region, but Viking Cruises' Cities of Antiquity itinerary manages to link several of the lands of great emperors and philosophers alike. It sails from Rome to Athens by way of Jerusalem in a culture-dense region where Alexander the Great led conquests, St Paul gave sermons, Anthony and Cleopatra smooched on the shoreline, Aristotle pondered and Saladin battled.

On a day in Haifa I could take a shore excursion to Acre, one of the world's oldest continuously inhabited cities: perhaps that's a good place to face the end of civilisation. Perhaps I'd be comforted in other destinations to think that other people have faced the end of the world too: the Roman inhabitants of Pompeii engulfed in volcanic ash, the Knights of St John booted out of Rhodes, the palace of Knossos now just a forlorn ruin picked over by shore-excursion enthusiasts.

Of course, there are few places more powerful for contemplating the meaning of life and your imminent extermination than Jerusalem, troubled city of three great religions. I could hedge my bets for the afterlife by visiting the Western Wall (Jewish), the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (Christian) and the Dome of the Rock (Muslim), or just join one of the many mystics and cranks who wander the streets and whose prophecies may finally be about to come true.

In short, my final cruise would be a sail through the centuries, wandering in the wake of Odysseus – a fine way to celebrate some of the greatest achievements of the human mind and the ornaments of human culture. On the final day I'd sit on deck in the warm Mediterranean sun, among a scattering of ancient islands, and probably conclude that for all our many faults and evils, we humans managed to create plenty of wonder and marvels and beauty. That's a good reason to travel, and a good thought to take with you as you sail into the final sunset.

GIMME SHELTER: FIVE PLACES TO SURVIVE THE APOCALYPSE MOSCOW, RUSSIA

If you need to take cover during an apocalyptic event, you could certainly do worse than cowering in Moscow's "Bunker 42", a 7000-square-metre Stalin-era hideout buried 65 metres below the capital city's streets. Given it was designed to function as a command post during wartime, where 30,000 people could live for up to 90 days, you would have to feel pretty safe.

ZURICH, SWITZERLAND

There's nothing like a little neutrality to make you feel comfortable, and Switzerland has long been at the forefront of fence-sitting. Just in case the country is, however, caught up in global warfare, you could always take shelter in one of Zurich's bank vaults, which are surely more secure than almost any location in the world.

ALBERTA, CANADA

According those who know – and we use "know" in a very loose sense – the best place to survive a zombie apocalypse would be Canada's Rocky Mountains. A team of statisticians from Cornell University decided that, given the rate and direction that zombies would be likely to spread, you'd be best taking shelter in the snow-capped hills. 

BAKKAGERDI, ICELAND

Ain't no one going to find you in this isolated village in north-eastern Iceland unless you really want them to. It helps, of course, that the population is only a few hundred, and Bakkagerdi is surrounded by cold seas and inhospitable land. But how would anyone even ask for directions to find you? Bakkagerdi is in the municipality of Borgarfjardarhreppur, on the coast of Borgarfjordur Eystri. Good luck with that. 

PYONGYANG, NORTH KOREA

Let's face it, the person most likely to trigger an actual apocalypse is either playing golf at Mar-a-Lago, or fiddling with missile launchers in Pyongyang. Our thinking is that if there's going to be a weaponised worldwide disaster, it's probably safest to be in the place where the rockets are launched, rather than the place where they land. 

BEN GROUNDWATER

GAME OVER: FIVE PLACES THAT MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE THE WORLD IS AT END GATES OF HELL, TURKMENISTAN

You'll be scanning the horizon for four horsemen as you approach this freakish, fiery natural wonder, a vast cauldron of flames that burns eternally in the Turkmenistan desert. The crater was formed when a Soviet drilling rig collapsed into a massive natural gas cavern – the volatile fuel was set alight in 1971 as a way to control it, and it's been burning ever since. 

POMPEII, ITALY

There's no doubt the citizens of Pompeii were convinced the world was ending when Mt Vesuvius exploded almost 2000 years ago, burying their city in more than 10 metres of molten mud and ash. The ruins that remain are a chilling reminder of the power of Mother Nature to destroy as well as to create. 

RHYOLITE, US

This good old-fashioned Wild West ghost town looks exactly the way you imagine the whole world would, come the apocalypse. It's all faded facades gradually crumbling into the dust of the desert; tumbleweed blowing through long-deserted streets; wind howling in ruined eaves. Creepy, and yet fascinating.

TA PROHM, CAMBODIA

While many of the temples of Angkor have been restored to their former glory, Ta Prohm has been left in the charming, dilapidated state in which it was found, having been engulfed by the forest around it, blurring the lines between foliage and foundations. The Earth, you realise, always wins in the end.

MORON, MONGOLIA

The average winter temperature in this Mongolian outpost – during the day – is minus 21 degrees. That's the warmest it ever gets in January. At night it's usually about minus 30 degrees. The coldest it's ever been is minus 47 degrees. That goes some way to explaining why the dusty streets of Moron are deathly, apocalyptically quiet during winter.

Listen: Flight of Fancy - the Traveller.com.au podcast with Ben Groundwater

To subscribe to the Traveller.com.au podcast Flight of Fancy on iTunes, click here.

Source: It is the end of the world: Travel experts choose one last fantasy travel destination

What Makes the Seychelles the Best Islands in Africa and the Middle East?

"It is like you are in the Garden of Eden," said one Travel + Leisure reader about the Seychelles, an archipelago of 115 islands in the Indian Ocean.

Exotic plants and wildlife, including indigenous Seychelles black parrots and towering palms, also make this destination a standout. It should come as no surprise that travelers gave the Seychelles top marks for natural attractions and beaches. (Many of the secluded, pristine stretches of sand are accessible only by private yacht.)

In our annual World's Best Awards survey, travelers consider a number of factors when voting for the best islands on the planet, including activities and sights, food, friendliness, and overall value.

And the Seychelles also wowed T+L readers with its celebrity visitors (Prince William and Kate Middleton honeymooned here, as did George and Amal Clooney) and the islands' off-the-charts luxury resorts.

It's hard to improve on the 30 massive villas at Six Senses Zil Pasyon, all of which have private infinity pools, or the forthcoming Four Seasons resort on the private Desroches Island, which will have a mix of beach suites and villas.

Source: What Makes the Seychelles the Best Islands in Africa and the Middle East?