After a 12-hour flight from Amsterdam, we arrived in South Africa at nearly midnight. My first impression of South Africa? The air smelled different, earthy and humid. It was a rejuvenating change from the winter we’d left.

We only had a couple days to explore Cape Town, so we packed in the sights tightly. We spent our first day with a group of Jason’s coworkers and their spouses exploring the Cape of Good Hope and Simon’s Town. At the Cape of Good Hope, Africa’s most southwestern spot, we stood on the edge of the continent surrounded by craggy splendor. We hiked to Cape Point, a dramatic cliff topped by the Cape Point Lighthouse and cuffed by the ocean. While the area was crowded with tourists, the agitated water and battered slopes still gave a sense of the tempestuousness of this wild headland. The wily chacma baboons thieving items from sightseers added another layer of unpredictability to the setting.

In Simon’s Town, we visited the 2,000 African penguins that call Boulders Beach home. Yes, Africa has penguins; they are probably called African penguins for that reason. I didn’t let those waddling waiters have all the fun at Boulders. I splashed into the Indian Ocean in that sheltered cove too. Well, I thought I did. As it turns out, the Atlantic and Indian Oceans meet without much fanfare at Cape Aghulas not Cape Point. Most of the Cape Town locals don’t even have that straight. Yup, I just waded unwittingly into the exotic Atlantic.

The next day, a group of the spouses sought the top of Table Mountain while our significant others put in some work hours. Table Mountain is an oddity among peaks. Its nearly-flat crest extends for two miles. It forms an unmistakable backdrop to Cape Town’s cityscape.

That morning was gloriously clear, so the view-hungry tourists swarmed the Table. We waited about 45 minutes in the queue for the tram to the top. Although I expected Table Mountain to be level, I was surprised by how far its flatness stretched. Its summit wasn’t just scenic though, it was uncomfortably warm. My feet decided this heat was their cue to expand further. Did I mention that my feet swelled up as soon as I crossed into the Southern Hemisphere? They remained bloated until they arrived back on their own side of the planet. Then, they magically deflated. Is that a regular thing? Or are my feet just melodramatic homebodies?

After Table Mountain, we had just enough time before dinner to see a bit of the Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden and stop in the Bo-Kaap district. The Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden is widely regarded as one of the best in the world, not only because Table Mountain cooperatively postures behind it but also because it features the wealth of plants unique to the Western Cape. Our pause in Bo-Kaap was brief but gave us time to snap some vibrant shots. Bo-Kaap’s colorful streets seemed a little worn between the weight of visitors and the hardships of residents.

Thus, our quick interlude in Cape Town ended. The following day, we were off to Sabi Sand Game Reserve by way of a couple flights and one propeller. I will cover that surreal experience next week.

Moab is a place unlike any other. Despite the dozens of times we’ve traveled to its crimson outcroppings, Jason and I are still enamored by its resilient magnificence. We took a monumental escape to that enigmatic countryside last fall, as we do every autumn. Hidden art, architecture, and arches abounded, along with a little vengeance.

On this trip, we decided to seek out Natural Bridges National Monument. Natural Bridges is two hours south of Moab, far enough away that we never realized it was that close. Better now than never.

In Natural Bridges, we decided to hike the 5.6-mile loop that twists through the Cedar Mesa sandstone cliffs in White Canyon to Sipapu and Kachina Bridges. What a terrific trek! The canyon was peaceful and vibrant, filled with gilded sunshine filtered through golden leaves and reflected off bright canyon walls.

Sipapu Bridge, the second-largest natural bridge in the United States, was the first span we encountered on our path. Ladders, handrails, and staircases guided us to this remarkable 268-foot arc. After we passed its worn bow, we didn’t see another human being until we emerged from the canyon miles later. That’s my kind of hike!

Between Sipapu and Kachina, we nearly missed our favorite part of our trek. Horse Collar Ruin, a seven-hundred-year-old group of buildings constructed by the Ancestral Puebloan, was a highlight of the day. Jason went on a side trail looking for the ruin in the area we thought it was probably located and came back shaking his head. He had, in fact, been gazing right at it, but it blended into the background quite effectively, as its builders intended. Luckily, I noticed one of its stone structures thanks to both happenstance and my attention to detail. When seeking Horse Collar Ruin on your own hike, be aware that there isn’t a sign directing you to it. You will have to pay careful attention to the canyon ledges to find these fascinating edifices.

Kachina Bridge, our last stop in route, was a chunky contrast to Sipapu. Its 44-feet girth is bulky and rough. Maybe it just needs the seasoning of another 30,000 years in nature’s finishing school.

By the time we completed our loop through Sipapu and Kachina, the sun had set in a moonless sky, and blackness was rushing in to fill the void. Yet, we still set out on the short path to Owachomo Bridge, determined to see the last span in the monument. The bridge’s slender shape was impressive silhouetted against the deepening heavens. Good thing we lack the common sense to stop hiking when night falls.

The next day, we scheduled an activity that is typical for Moab but atypical for us in Moab: jeeping. Robert Mick, son of legendary Dan Mick, took us on Hell’s Revenge. Vengeance is sweet! Hell’s Revenge starts out intimidating with the aptly-named Intimidator, a thin fin of sandstone that doesn’t look fit for a vehicle. The rest of the trail keeps the adrenaline pumping, the eyes popping, and the giggles erupting. Robert did some crazy stuff I would never, ever, ever have tried. Not only did we ride along the Abyss and Black Hole, we also took the optional plunge into Hell’s Gate. Hell’s Gate is nearly vertical and skewed in every direction. It looks completely unpassable. One guy watching us said, “I just pooped my pants” as we crested over the last of the Gate’s twisted inclines.

After jeeping, we hiked to Pinto Arch. Never heard of Pinto Arch? How about Corona Arch? Yes? Pinto Arch can be reached by taking an offshoot from the Corona Arch Trail. Even with the many times we’ve been to Moab and the multiple times we’ve hiked to Corona Arch, we didn’t realize Pinto was right there. It is visible from Corona’s path if you know where to look. It reminded me of a squatter and portlier relative of Bowtie Arch. We hit it just around sunset, which made for some great photography.

Our last day in Moab, we hiked to Jeep Arch. Online reviews said this trail was super hard to follow and getting lost was practically guaranteed. We did not think that was the case at all. Tracking cairns was necessary in many spots as the path wound over stretches of rock, but these sections were well marked. The route was scenic and the arch’s jagged opening curious. If you undertake this hike, the left side of the loop is the better side. The surroundings are prettier and afford a finer perspective of the arch. It took us about three hours to complete this nearly-four-mile jaunt. Driving back from this excursion, we discovered something new. Although we’ve gone down State Route 279 many times, we never realized there are hundreds of petroglyphs along this road. If you want to find yourself similarly surprised, look for a sign on the south side of the byway near the climbing routes. The petroglyphs can be viewed from the road easily, but binoculars are nice.

After over a decade of biannual trips to Moab, that desert wonderland still holds mysteries and marvels, along with a few of Hell’s hurdles.