Your Ultimate Guide to Solo Travel Across Africa

God, no. And I mean that. Some of the most incredible solo travellers I've met on the road in Kenya and Namibia were women in their 40s, 50s, even 60s. If anything, travelling women over 40 tend to have a massive advantage — you've got life experience, you don't panic as easily, and you're way less likely to do something stupid for the sake of a story. I started travelling solo in my late 30s and I wish I'd done it earlier, but I also think I appreciate it more now. Age is genuinely not the issue. The only thing stopping you is the voice in your head, and that voice is usually wrong.

You'll be fine. English gets you very far in Kenya, Tanzania, Zanzibar, Namibia, and South Africa. In Nairobi I never had a single conversation where language was a real barrier. In Zanzibar most people in tourism areas speak English plus bits of Italian and French from years of international visitors. Do I recommend learning a few phrases in Swahili? Absolutely — even just “jambo” and “asante” will change how people respond to you. But you don't need to be fluent in anything to get around, order food, or find your way.

This one was my biggest worry before I left, and it turned out to be the easiest part. In Kenya, matatus go everywhere. Literally everywhere. Nairobi to Mombasa, Nairobi to Lushoto border, across town — there's always a matatu. They're chaotic and loud and sometimes packed beyond what seems physically possible, but they work and they're cheap. In Namibia I rented a car and drove myself, which sounds intimidating until you realise half the roads are empty and the scenery is so ridiculous you forget to be nervous. Zanzibar is small enough for dala-dalas and taxis. Each country has its own system and once you figure it out on day one, you're golden.

Zanzibar solo is one of the best things I've ever done. Full stop. The island is small enough that you feel safe but big enough that you don't run out of things to do. Stone Town is chaotic in the best possible way — spice markets, rooftop restaurants, narrow alleys that lead to random beautiful doors. The beaches on the east coast are stupid beautiful. And the food — Zanzibar food deserves its own blog, honestly. I went there expecting to stay four days and ended up staying much longer. Solo travellers are everywhere on the island, so you're never really alone unless you want to be.

I'm not going to tell you to “just be brave” because that advice is useless. I was terrified before my first trip. Like, couldn't-sleep terrified. Here's what actually helped me: I booked the first three nights in advance so I had somewhere to go when I landed. That's it. Just knowing I had a bed waiting took the edge off everything else. After those first three days I was already a different person. The fear doesn't disappear — it just gets quieter, and then one morning you wake up in Windhoek or Zanzibar and realise you haven't thought about it in days. Start small. Book the flight. Book the first hostel. The rest figures itself out faster than you think.

Nairobi has a reputation that's about fifteen years out of date. Is it a big city with big city problems? Yes. Should you wave your phone around at night in certain neighbourhoods? No. But I walked around Nairobi solo during the day without any issues. I took Ubers at night. I ate street food in downtown areas. I visited markets alone. The people I met were curious, friendly, and genuinely helpful — one guy walked me twenty minutes to a bus stop I couldn't find and refused to let me pay him anything. Use common sense like you would in any major city and you'll be absolutely fine. Nairobi actually became one of my favourite stops.

Lushoto was one of those places I almost skipped because nobody was writing about it. I'm so glad I didn't. The Usambara Mountains are gorgeous — green and misty and quiet in a way that makes you forget your phone exists. I stayed in a tiny guesthouse, went on a walking tour with a local guide, and had some of the most peaceful days of my entire trip. Places like Lushoto feel intimidating on paper because there's less tourist infrastructure, but in my experience the less touristy the place, the warmer the welcome. People in small towns are curious about solo travellers and usually go out of their way to help you. Just bring cash — ATMs are rare.

This varies wildly depending on where you go and how you travel. In Kenya and Tanzania I spent around 40 to 70 dollars a day including accommodation, food, and transport — sometimes less when I stayed in hostels and ate local. Zanzibar was a bit cheaper for food but accommodation adds up in peak season. Namibia is more expensive if you're renting a car and staying in lodges, but you can cut costs with camping. South Africa depends entirely on the city — Cape Town can burn through your budget fast if you're not careful, but the wine regions are surprisingly affordable. My honest advice: budget more than you think you'll need, then enjoy spending less than you planned.

Because I actually went. That sounds obvious but you'd be shocked how many “Africa travel guides” are written by people who visited one resort on a press trip or just rewrote someone else's article. Every single thing on Travel Africa Solo comes from my own solo trips. I paid for my own flights, my own hostels, my own overpriced taxis when I was too tired to negotiate. Nobody sponsors this blog. Nobody tells me what to write. If a place was disappointing, I'll say so. If a bus ride was a nightmare, you'll read about it. I started this because the blog I needed before my first trip to Africa didn't exist. So I'm writing it — one country, one honest story at a time.