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By: Chris Kohl
Each journey we undertake is a gentle alchemy—people, geography, culture, weather, travel companions—all folded into the fabric of new experience. In my youth, I listened wide-eyed to stories from my Danish grandfather, a man of the world who spun tales with wit and a humorous sense of wonder. His stories painted maps in my mind, lit with connections and unexpected adventure and friendships. Inspired by him, I graduated from college with a single burning goal: to live and work abroad, to gather stories of my own.
For 15 years, I roamed—over 50 countries, more than 7 I called home. But when our two children were born, the compass turned inward. I became a teacher, not out of retreat but for expansion—of time with my children, and space for my wife Gisele, also a seasoned traveler, to grow her work. For over a decade, she collaborated with the government of Seychelles in tourism strategy. Each return from her travels carried a note of longing: that I might one day share in the rare, shimmering energy of this Indian Ocean archipelago.
So when Gisele devised a plan for a family journey—ourselves, our 10-year-old daughter Giovanna, and 12-year-old son Thomas—I knew instinctively it was more than a trip. It was an investment in memory, in presence, in us.
Seychelles lies far, but not impossibly so. We left our home in Maryland on a mild Monday evening, driving the 90-minute stretch to Dulles Airport in Virginia with four small suitcases and carry-ons. Tropical destinations favor lightness—no coats, fewer shoes, only anticipation.
Our route would take us across three continents: a 10-hour Turkish Airlines flight to Istanbul, followed by a generous 9-hour layover, and finally a 9-hour stretch southeast to Mahé, the largest of Seychelles’ 115 islands. Gisele’s luck—or perhaps the karma of travel well earned—shone on us: an upgrade to business class. Turkish Airlines delivered with attentive service and space enough for my 6’1” frame.
The Istanbul lounge was its own experience, a rich cultural prelude: olives in countless hues, simmering Turkish coffee, the sesame twist of simit, and the briny tang of ayran ladled from a wooden barrel. We considered a city tour—free to transit passengers—but the chill of 36°F and our beach-bound wardrobes convinced us otherwise. The second flight passed in a haze of dreams and soft anticipation, and at last, Seychelles emerged below like emeralds scattered in sapphire.
Mahé International Airport is compact but functional—an apt metaphor for the island itself. We were greeted by Creole Travel Services and Bryan, our driver, whose knowledge and warmth mirrored the welcome of the land. He guided us via the scenic route into Victoria, one of the world’s smallest capitals, tucked in lush hills and framed by sea.
Our final stretch to North Island was an adventure unto itself: van, ferry, dive boat, and finally, an inflatable dinghy. The 40-minute ferry ride to Silhouette Island gave way to a brisk transfer across sparkling waters aboard North Island’s dive boat. Tired yet euphoric, we slid barefoot into the dinghy, timing the waves with our pilot, and landed—ceremoniously and soaking—on the sunlit beach.
North Island, just 2.01 square kilometers in area, was once ravaged by colonial-era plantations and invasive species. Now, it’s a model of ecological restoration. There’s no dock here—intentionally. Arrival is by sea and by spirit. We were met by Nicolas and the North Island team, as well as our first encounter with the Aldabra giant tortoise, a living relic endemic to the Seychelles, often living well past 150 years.
A buggy whisked us through the foliage to our villa, where Kiki, our butler and guide to the island’s subtle rhythms, welcomed us. The villa felt both elemental and refined: open-air showers, rich local hardwoods, a sea-view gazebo beside a soaker tub, and a kitchen where Kiki and Dougles would craft our morning meals.
Dinner that night was at Sunset Beach: our table set on the sand, waves as background music, passion fruit mojitos (virgin for the kids), and a spread of red snapper, wagyu filet, and local Creole dishes. North Island’s culinary ethos blends luxury with locality. Later, we roamed in the buggy, spotting ghostlike tortoises under moonlight before retreating to our plunge pool. We swam under the stars, laughter echoing as flying foxes streaked across the dark canopy.
Morning brought yoga atop a hill overlooking the Indian Ocean, the kids feeding tortoises below. Rain arrived, warm and rhythmic, deepening the island’s verdancy. At the Environmental Centre, Matilde, head of the island’s ecological program, shared the island’s remarkable transformation: invasive rats removed, endemic birds returned, and critical nesting grounds restored.
That night, the island delivered magic—twice. Two sea turtle nests hatched. Green and hawksbill turtles nest on North Island, laying hundreds of eggs per clutch, though few hatchlings survive. Our presence, it turned out, kept crabs at bay and increased the odds for these tiny voyagers. To witness them scrabble across sand to meet the ocean was transcendent, and I like to think some may return here one day.
A Creole tasting followed the next evening, hosted by Nicolas and Mark from the island’s management. North Island hosts only 11 villas, emphasizing preservation over population. Privacy is paramount; Honeymoon Beach, for instance, is reserved daily for a single villa. We had breakfast there: alone, shipwrecked in paradise but for a stocked bathroom and deck. A massage followed, overlooking a turquoise panorama.
From Mahé, we ferried to Praslin, Seychelles’ second-largest island at 38.5 square kilometers. Bryan from Creole Travel escorted us once again, and the transfer was seamless. Praslin struck a different chord—softer, slower.
We stayed at Raffles, perched above the coast with views of Curieuse Island, a nature reserve rich in mangroves and the endemic coco de mer palms. The Raffles villas cascade across the hillside, each with private pools, echoing the gentle hum of nature.
After a welcome reception, we dined on local and international fare, and retired to our villa, lulled by the sound of waves. Morning began with a visit to the Tortoise Park where, even before we arrived, one enthusiastic male made his intentions loudly known. The Aldabra tortoises here, as on North Island, evoke awe with their prehistoric dignity.
Later, we planted coconut trees—a symbolic act, considering these trees may outlive us all. It sparked a reflection: longtermism, the belief in acting with future generations in mind. What legacy do we leave?
In the Vallée de Mai, a UNESCO World Heritage Site just 19.5 hectares in size, our guide Derek revealed a palm-draped world teeming with life: the famed coco de mer, endemic geckos, and rare Seychelles black parrots. The valley, mythically linked to the Garden of Eden, felt sacred.
Before returning, we visited Anse Lazio, often ranked among the world’s most beautiful beaches. With its sweeping curves and palm silhouettes, it felt more like a dream than a location. We then returned for massages in the Raffles spa, each room its own sanctuary, before snorkeling as a family in calm waters.
Dinner was at the Arabian restaurant, where a Lebanese chef served fish kebabs fragrant with Mediterranean spice. The next morning, we enjoyed a floating breakfast—coconut, mango, pastries—on our villa pool. A misplaced wallet nearly delayed us, but became a family joke instead.
To reach Alphonse Island, we boarded a 15-seat propeller plane. The last time I flew in one this small, I had to jump out of it—on purpose, during a skydive. This time, no parachute was required. Sitting next to Giovanna, we watched as coral atolls stitched themselves into the sea below. Alphonse is a coral island in the Alphonse Group, about 1.7 square miles in area, a speck of paradise 400 kilometers southwest of Mahé.
Upon landing, we were met by the Blue Safari team and brought to a breezy beachfront restaurant. Over the next few days, we met an international cast: fly-fishing guides like Sean from South Africa, conservationists, and a host of friendly Seychellois.
The island has its own organic farm, and meals were nothing short of exceptional: wahoo ceviche with lime and passionfruit, lamb carpaccio, tropical smoothies at dawn. For the first time, Thomas and Gigi had their own bungalow—steps from the beach, with tortoises occasionally lounging in the gardens.
Guests get bicycles to explore, and we cycled everywhere: to breakfast, to snorkel, to the beach bar hidden in palm groves. Excursions included dolphin-viewing (where spinner dolphins danced around us), marine eco talks, and reef safaris. One afternoon, we snorkeled straight off the floating dock and spotted sea turtles grazing, eels curling through coral, and Giant Trevallys patrolling the reef.
On another occasion, we kayaked with a guide and met siblings from Mahé. Stand-up paddling followed, then an afternoon alone at the beach bar—just us, hammocks, and horizon.
A memorable outing was the flats lunch: tables set on a sandbar in the middle of the sea, grilled fish and salads served as water lapped our ankles. There, we met other families, each with stories drawn to this remote place.
The island has a medical clinic, where Dr. Kevin from Nigeria treated Gigi’s scraped toes and Thomas’ earache. Competent, kind—one of many reassuring signs of Alphonse’s thoughtful hospitality.
Our last morning was a fly-fishing lesson with Thomas. Under Sean’s guidance, we cast for bonefish and caught several before attempting to hook the elusive GTs—Giant Trevallys. While they remained hidden, Thomas landed a bluefin trevally after a spirited battle.
One night on Alphonse, after dinner, the four of us biked to the runway. We lay back on the warm concrete and stared up. More stars than I had ever seen filled the sky. The hush was complete, the moment vast. We held hands and breathed it in.
These are the gifts Seychelles offers: not just beauty, but stillness. Not escape, but presence.
As Lawrence Durrell once wrote, “Most travelers hurry too much…the great thing is to try and travel with the eyes of the spirit wide open, and not too much factual information. To tune in, without reverence, idly — but with real inward attention. It is to be had for the feeling…you can extract the essence of a place once you know how. If you just get as still as a needle, you’ll be there.”
In Seychelles, we were there.
A special thank you to Turkish Airlines for making our trip to Seychelles comfortable and smooth. With efficient connections from North and South America, Turkish offers one of the most practical and enjoyable ways to reach this remote paradise.
The layover at Istanbul Airport was a highlight in itself—modern, spacious, and full of amenities perfect for both short and long connections. Flying with Turkish was more than just transportation—it was the start of our journey, with hospitality, ease, and care from the boarding gate onward.
We are also extremely grateful to Creole Travel Services, the local team that ensured all transfers and ground arrangements in Seychelles were seamless, safe, and enjoyable. From ferry connections and ground transportation to warm welcomes at every stop, Creole Travel brought efficiency, local knowledge, and Seychellois hospitality in every detail.
Together, Turkish Airlines and Creole Travel Services made sure our experience was effortless from start to finish—and every moment in between.
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