How Angola is reinventing itself as a safari destination

A vast, oil-rich country, Angola shares borders with the Democratic Republic of Congo, Namibia, the Republic of the Congo and Zambia. It remains relatively off the radar as a holiday destination, but that is beginning to change thanks to the Halo Trust, a British charity whose mine-clearing work in Angola is not only saving lives but unlocking the country’s tourism potential.

Princess Diana put Halo on the map in 1997 when she visited Huambo in central Angola — a province that has since been declared free of the impact of landmines. I am further south, in Cuando Cubango, which is home to some of the country’s most complex and dangerous minefields. 

“The challenge is to clear those landmines so that we can free up access for people to go where they want, have land to cultivate and allow development,” Dr Peter Coals, head of environment at the trust, says as we stand beside a minefield. Fewer than a thousand recorded minefields remain, though there are thought to be more hidden in remote areas. It is estimated that up to 88,000 people have been killed or injured by mines in Angola; this devastation stems from the 1975-2002 civil war that tore the nation apart after it gained independence from Portugal. 

Of the ten acres of scrubland that unfolds before me, one acre has been cleared so far. A few feet from me a deminer, Joaquina Cambingonjo, is on her hands and knees. Beside her a small red disc marks a potential mine, found using a specialised metal detector. Cambingonjo digs a hole a distance back from the signal before proceeding towards it, scraping away soil by hand until she reaches the source. It’s a painstaking process.

If the signal is a landmine her supervisor verifies it visually before it is destroyed using a small explosive charge. “I enjoy the feeling of being part of a team,” Cambingonjo says. “I am proud to be working to ensure safety for our communities and a better future for Angola.” 

That future is bright. Between 2019 and 2025 the Angolan government gave $60 million to Halo to clear minefields in Cuando Cubango. Over the past 32 years the trust has destroyed 125,000 landmines across the equivalent of more than 6,100 football pitches. A burgeoning tourism scene is emerging — wildlife is returning, lodges are being built, cities are coming back to life. “You’ve got connectivity to some of the best wildlife habitats on the continent, moving up from the Okavango Delta,” Coals says. “Halo provides pockets of safety to join up these wildlife corridors. Eventually you will have a whole landscape.”

Development has already begun. The new international airport in Luanda became fully operational in 2025. A German-built highway, connecting the Katwitwi border crossing between Namibia and Angola to Caiundo, along the Cubango River in southern Angola, will open in two years’ time. The luxury safari operator Natural Selection is opening camps in Cuatir Nature Reserve and the Iona and Luengue-Luiana national parks — all near the border with Namibia — in partnership with the conservation-driven tour operator Angola Uncharted Safaris.

In Luanda I meet Stefan van Wyk, the Namibian-born founder of Angola Uncharted Safaris. “Your well-travelled tourists have seen it all,” he says. ‘They don’t need to go and tick off the big five. More experienced people want to see restored areas. They want to see what’s happening and how wildlife comes back. That’s what we can offer.” 

On safari in Cuatir Nature Reserve

My first stop is Cuatir Nature Reserve, created by Van Wyk in 2013. The journey here involves a three-hour flight from Luanda then a four-hour drive along dusty rollercoaster roads, past towering termite mounds and clusters of thatched round huts. We take a shortcut to the Cubango River, one of the main headwaters of the Okavango Delta. The grass dwarfs our 4×4 as we drive on to a metal pontoon manned by a father and his two young sons. We glide across the sparkling river, landing five minutes later into raw wilderness. 

Cuatir covers an area of about 150 square miles, with plans to expand it to 950 square miles — which would make it the largest private nature reserve in Africa. We drive through wooded savanna to our camp. Scattered among the trees there are six stone terracotta-tiled chalets, each sleeping two guests, with either a double or twin beds, hand-built by Van Wyk and his team, alongside wooden benches, sturdy tables and a boma for dining. It’s rustic and charming. 

The reserve is a landscape of lush wetlands, grassy plains and riparian forest. Yet, despite these rich ecosystems, restoring wildlife has taken time. “When I arrived the animals took six years to show their faces during the daytime,” Van Wyk says. “They had to get the war out of their DNA.” During the war people hunted wildlife for meat, but Van Wyk put an end to the poaching.

Covid proved a turning point, and when Van Wyk returned in November 2020, cheetahs, leopards, wild dogs and kudus had returned. “They became accustomed to the place being safe,” he says. That year he reintroduced giraffes, zebras, impalas and elands. Four years later he brought in 26 elephants, relocated from Namibia; 100,000 elephants were killed in the war. This approach is working — there has been an increase in zebra and cheetah breeding and buffaloes have also been spotted. 

I’m up early to meet Calunga, a bushman from the Nganguela tribe. We walk along a path lined with leopard prints. Malbrouck monkeys scamper overhead while two kudus study us. A fallen tree blocks our way. Elephants are close. Our 4×4 collects us and drives slowly along the road and 14 elephants come into view; five approach us, not aggressively but inquisitively. They’re so close that I can see their brushy eyelashes. They troop off, leaving a squadron of dragonflies in their wake. 

Over the next few days we see a warthog, roan antelopes, sables and spectacular birdlife, including a saddle-billed stork stalking slowly through shallow wetlands. On our last drive the skies darken, the wind picks up, thunder booms and lightning flashes across the horizon. We rush back to a hearty dinner of gamey, slightly sweet Namibian giraffe sausage, accompanied by macaroni with tomato sauce.

A stay in Angola’s first luxury lodge

Lily pads float on the water as we ferry back over the river and fly to Mumba Lodge. Considered the country’s first luxury lodge, this former tobacco factory shows the potential of Angola. As Agostinho Julante, the general manager, puts it: “Angola can’t always lead with oil; if Portugal can lead with tourism, why can’t we?”

Surrounded by rushing canals, the lodge opened in May 2025 on a 350-square-mile working farm. It’s the third property of the ambitious Angolan-owned Flow Hotels group, with another launching in Luanda this year. 

The interiors at Mumba have been beautifully renovated, with high ceilings, leather and wood, African antiques and bold artwork. A spa with a Turkish bath and Technogym overlooks a hippo-filled river. Dinner is a farm-to-fork feast of tomahawk steak with fungi (a cassava mash) and black beans, followed by “camel spit” (a Portuguese caramel mousse). I turn down a cigar afterwards, but it’s an elegant nod to the building’s history.

The next day we fly southwest to Iona National Park, at the northern tip of the Namib desert, which stretches seamlessly into the Skeleton Coast. Against the backdrop of a pure blue sky, rolling dune fields give way to lush expanses, green after heavy rains. The Atlantic sparkles ahead. Sixteen giraffes stride between the trees. Two ostriches sprint across the sand. Thousands of cape fur seals wallow in the sea. Green turtles course through the Cunene River, where a huge crocodile slips in from a sandbank. 

On landing we are greeted by João Lopes. Born in Angola, he fled to Portugal with his parents when war broke out. He has returned as manager of the park. “Iona has an appeal that you cannot find everywhere,” he says. “This mixture between the communities and the cultural values, the people, the wildlife and landscapes is peculiar and unique here.”

Dusk is falling. We stop for a sundowner. I balance on a shard of rock jutting up from the ground to have a gin and tonic. Bullet casings lie scattered in the grass — a haunting reminder of the past. The silhouettes of two impalas stand in the burning sunset. 

Over the next few days we camp across the desert, rising early and leaving no trace. There are no official campsites yet. Instead we set up on the shores of the rushing Cunene, dwarfed by Namibia’s majestic orange dunes on the far bank, and bed down among arid rock formations. Our camp comprises canvas tents, a porcelain loo and a bucket shower. It’s spartan but fitting amid the solitude and stark beauty. 

Each day we head deeper into Iona, pausing at the herds of springbok and oryx, their horns rising like spears. The land appears limitless, interrupted only by thorny acacia trees. A zebra trots across the plain. Around the campfire we tuck into feijoada, a Portuguese pork and bean stew, cooked over a makeshift stove. The vivid streak of the Milky Way splashes across the sky.

There is more to come in Iona. This year the park is translocating 100 zebras and a group of giraffes. The long-term goal is to reintroduce rhino, elephant and lion species that historically lived here. Three lodges are also under way. But Lopes remains very aware of the nearby human communities. “We don’t want to change their way of life,” he says. “We just work with them in this process.” 

It’s Sunday as we drive to the airport, past women carrying their plastic chairs back from church. The urban bustle of Luanda is a shock. Before I fly home I meet Coals, who is heading off to do safety training with Iona’s rangers. “When you get NGOs, action organisations and government working together, then you get real change,” he says. “We’re at the beginning of something.”

I agree. One of Africa’s greatest recoveries could be right around the corner. 
Harriet Compston was a guest of the Ultimate Travel Company, which has 11 nights’ all-inclusive from £17,570pp, including flights, transfers, private guiding from Stefan van Wyk and park fees (theultimatetravelcompany.co.uk). For each booking a £250 donation will be made to the Halo Trust programme in Angola (halotrust.org)