Review: &Beyond Suyian Lodge, Kenya

So much of human history is built on the obsession with being first.  First man on the moon.  First person to break the four-minute mile, or to summit Everest, or invent Skittles.  But, more importantly than any of that, first to review Suyian Lodge.  I am now amongst the greats.

Let’s start with some context.  As I’ve said many times before, I’m not exactly an &Beyond fan.  So you might think mixing the characteristics of a company I don’t love with a property that only opened last week is the perfect mix.  Like mixing cyanide with Red Bull, and somehow expecting it to make it better.  Although now I think about it…

Yet Suyian Lodge was getting all the hype— and I played my part, a willing slave to the marketing circus. It’s on a private concession.  The same architects who designed the incredible Arijiju.  Oh, and the name literally translates to “wild dog”, the greatest animal to ever roam this earth.

Getting there

You, dear reader, have options.  Twice-daily light aircraft flights with Safarilink or Air Kenya will get you from Wilson Airport (Nairobi) to Loisaba Airstrip in around 45 minutes, followed by a further 45-minute drive to the lodge.  Or, if you’re allergic to spending time with other people, you can charter to the lodge’s private airstrip just 20 minutes away—small catch, it’s not finished yet.

I chartered in from Angama Amboseli in an hour and 40 minutes, but can confirm the 45-minute flight to Nairobi is accurate as I chartered on the way out.

Setting

Suyian Lodge sits on a 44,000-acre private concession in Laikipia where, gloriously, it’s the only lodge.  No other camps, just you, a few thousand cows, an inexplicable number of camels, and a whole lot of space.  A lot of space where, one day, wildlife might be.  It’s not like an apocalyptic wasteland, but it’s not going to get the juices flowing. It’s new. It’s going to take time. Don’t get mad at me, I don’t make the animals, I just report on their absence.

It was born from a partnership between &Beyond and Space for Giants, transforming former cattle ranch land into something close to a conservation dream—namely, a place where wild dogs occasionally make an appearance.  That’s how I view conservation, anyway.  The landscape is a proper mix: vast open plains that are windy, surprisingly cold, but perfect for cheetah and lion hunts; elsewhere, it shifts to rocky, rugged terrain with winding river valleys that feel completely different.

It may well be private, but the animals are not aware of the boundaries.  A river divides you from Laikipia Wilderness, best known for their claim to fame: the elusive black leopard.  Their entire business model is pretty much pinned on that cat staying alive. I’m sure in a few years, they’re spray-painting a regular leopard and insisting it’s the same one—just thriving at a miraculous 50 years old, nothing to see here, folks.  One afternoon we found ourselves peering through binoculars across the river, shamelessly following their game vehicles in the hope of spotting it from our side.  It was like flying first class but pressing your nose against the glass to see economy.  I assume there’s thick glass back there that separates them.

It’s technically not a Big Five area—there’s no rhino at present, though they’re planning a reintroduction—but you do get lion, cheetah, and all the Laikipia specials like reticulated giraffe, Grevy’s zebra, and the odd cameo from wild dogs or leopard.

Facilities

The lodge was designed by the same architect as Arijiju and, well, it shows.  Clean lines, lots of natural stone, that whole modern-kopje aesthetic.  The roads out of the lodge don’t follow the same principle – they’re a truly horrendous bone-rattling track that takes ages to descend.  I refuse to believe it’s accidental—having both the newly opened Wild Hill and Suyian with apocalyptically bad access roads feels less like coincidence and more like architectural sadism.  It’s a feature, not a bug.  Bit like having two children both turn out morons and saying it was just bad luck.  It bucketed down multiple times during my stay, completely ignoring the calendar.  Which, of course, makes the road even worse.

Pulling into the property, your first view is the back-of-house—solar panels everywhere—and for a moment you wonder if that is the lodge.  Charming. I’m told the landscaping will hide it eventually, but for now it’s gone full blown utility yard chic.

Once you’re past that initial impression, the second impression is realising that those architects, roads excluded, know how to make a gorgeous property.  Damn, this place is a stunner.  Truly beautiful, perhaps even more so at night.  Coming back to the lodge after a drive, you see it glowing on the hill, lit up softly against the landscape.  The pathways are lined with candles and warm lighting, and it’s just effortlessly stunning.  Money was spent here, that much was clear.  And it was totally worth it.

Walking down the steps, the property starts to reveal itself and does its best Arijiju impersonation by having the lobby open up, where the glass windows start to come into view, revealing that epic landscape.

To your left, naturally the first thing you encounter is the boutique, which doubles as a reception.  Then onwards into the main area.  Off to the left is a boot room—very classy, almost countryside manor—and to the right, a proper map room-slash-museum that has lots of animal skulls and looks like a serial killers wet dream.  Straight ahead is the bar, positioned perfectly to frame the view.  Did I mention it’s stunning? I’ll let the pictures do the talking.

Head to the left for a large collection of lounge areas, a black library (no, that’s not racist, it’s actually black), or go outside, where there’s the firepit, with pizza oven, where the chef was making pizza for snacks, just because somehow the eighteen meals a day they give you on safari wasn’t enough.

The main dining area wraps around to the right of the bar, with both indoor and outdoor seating.  Inside there’s a partially separate dining room with a chef’s table.  Scattered all around, including outside, there are these brilliant built-in fireplace right next to the dining tables, so you can linger outdoors properly without freezing.  I also liked the little row of bar stools outside—it’s a small touch, but it gives the space more flexibility and life.  On the path to rooms 7 and below, you’ll find a herb garden near the kitchen.

The pool area is only about a thirty seconds walk from the main area, yet it feels like its own little zone. There’s a long infinity pool (not heated – eurgh) stretching out towards the plains, surrounded by plenty of loungers, umbrellas, sunken sofas, and dining tables.  The design here is gorgeous and the space feels expansive, though there’s one odd detail—they’ve positioned the pool so that, from one corner, you end up staring straight into the terrace and private plunge pool of one of the suites.

Spa and Gym

The spa and gym are placed at opposite ends of the property.  The gym is closest to the main area, so let’s start there. It’s kitted out with TechnoGym equipment, all set up to face outwards so you can sweat your way through cardio with those glorious views.  There are two bikes, two treadmills, and a rower, alongside dumbbells ranging from 1kg to 22kg and a punching bag.  The equipment itself is pristine but definitely a couple of generations old; the bikes have no screens, only the treadmills do (which are tiny and don’t support Apple Fitness).  And I absolutely loathe working out without any metrics.  It feels like exercise that doesn’t count.

There’s also a dedicated yoga studio next door, which feels like a proper wellness space rather than the usual afterthought.  And the gym has air conditioning!  Actual air conditioning!  It wasn’t really needed during my stay since the doors were flung wide open and it wasn’t that warm, but what a joy that was to discover.

The spa is located at the opposite end of the property, which houses a plunge pool and steam room.  Lovely setting, though slightly confusing that you’re greeted by just a tranquil water feature surrounded by products. There’s no reception area, so I ended up awkwardly wandering around trying to figure out where to go, trying not to walk in on someone halfway through a happy ending.  There are two treatment rooms, both with fireplaces like the guest rooms and large windows that open up somehow giving the best views in the entire property.

Room

Wow.  And I don’t throw that around lightly.  Wow.  Not because it’s the best room I’ve ever seen, but because for a safari lodge, it’s damn impressive.

There are 14 suites—including family and triple options—each offering views across the valley.  Architecturally, it’s dope.  A seamless extension of the landscape—stone, wood and canvas blending into the granite outcrops, topped off with grass roofs that double as insulation and camouflage.

I was in room #4.  Room #5 is bound to be the “hero suite” because it’s set apart, but it’s the most exposed—everyone walking to the spa can look straight up into it.  And that is the biggest issue of the entire property: the rooms are so close to each other, and they lack privacy.  Ok, that’s two issues – maths is really hard.

Part two of that equation will partially solve itself over time, once the shrubs and trees grow in, but it won’t fix everything. They’ve run into what I call the beach dilemma, something that I’m sure Kierkegaard spent most of his time thinking about: how do you have a beachfront villa with ocean views and privacy?  You either surround it with trees and lose the view, or leave it open and lose the privacy.  North Island is one of the few that’s cracked it, thanks to the natural elevation of the beach.  Here, every room is angled for the view, which means I can’t see them ever fully solving it.

But the bigger one is how close the rooms are to each other.  I know that if someone else was involved in this project – like Singita, Wilderness or Great Plains  – there would not be 14 rooms here and definitely not so close to each other.  The proximity of the other rooms is noticeable; I could see straight into the terrace of #6, and it kills the sense of seclusion.  If I’m looking at them, they’re definitely looking at me.  I don’t like leaving my room and staring at the entrance of another room.  This isn’t a very safari experience, where often the rooms are so spaced apart that you forget mankind ever crawled out of caves.

Your neighbours should be made to wear camouflage.

But let’s focus on the inside, after all, isn’t that where beauty is found?  Inside, it’s properly striking.  You walk into a cloakroom that opens into a huge living area with a fireplace smack in the middle, soaring ceilings, and a sunken sofa to the side. It’s fully open plan, with no internal doors except for the toilet, but every area has glass doors leading outside, flooding the space with light—and behind those, proper windows, so it all feels bright.  The design reminded me a little of Kea Island—just with less marble.

Down the corridor there’s a mini bar to the right, another drinks area to the left, and then the bedroom opens up with a dome ceiling that makes everything feel bigger.  The mosquito net is beautifully designed, easy to use, hides away properly during the day without looking like a collapsing parachute. There’s a desk behind the bed, though the chair is about as comfortable as being trampled by elephants.

Then you hit what’s arguably the best part of the suite—the bathroom.  Huge, elegant, with a shower placed dead centre, gorgeous stone baths, double sinks, proper vanity area, and more views.  Outside you’ve got a shower, a plunge pool (also not heated) directly in front of the bedroom, a sunken lounge off to the side, and loungers plus a little table setup for dining privately.  And the view isn’t half bad either.

There are loads of plug sockets—including US, UK, USB-A, and USB-C—including on both sides of the bed.  And I love that it’s all solid walls and windows—none of this tent-flap nonsense.  They even open the windows during the day while you’re on game drive so you come back to a beautifully breezy, fresh-feeling room.

Now, for the annoyances.  Lighting, my favourite.  There are switches everywhere—yet somehow none of them make sense.  The ones behind the bed had me faffing around like I was defusing a bomb just to turn a light on.  What happened to a simple master switch besides the bed?

They put in an electric heater/fan next to the bed, which is never a good sign.  It needed to be on because it rained the first night and was so humid.  The ceiling fan could only do so much – but most of that much was making a maddening click noise.

Bathroom taps are the classic “hot on the left, cold on the right, enjoy wasting half your water supply and 30 minutes of your life trying to find a decent temperature” setup.  The sinks are also impractical—almost impossible to use because the tap is placed too close to the edge.

Curtains are another “feature” of an interior designer believing their own hype—deliberately short, leaving a big gap at the top.  Light pours in first thing, so don’t expect any proper lie-ins.  Also, there’s no door between the living room and bedroom, so sound carries.  Everything echoes slightly.  Not ideal if you’ve dragged your partner here on a last-ditch attempt to save your marriage.  Farting echoes like rolling thunder (so I’m told), and the acoustics will turn chewing into grounds for divorce.

To be fair, other than the heating, all of these are part of a new opening and will get fixed in the coming weeks and months.  Or so I’m told.

Service

Look, it’s a new opening, so everyone’s wandering around like they’ve just survived a three-day stag do in Slovakia, accidentally killed a prostitute, and are now trying to sober up in time for their own wedding, whilst reeking of guilt, shame, and the creeping fear that the prostitute’s father has a particular set of skills and is already en route.

But everyone is lovely, few more so than the GM, Pixie.  And my amazing guide, Denzol, but we’ll come to him later.

A few days before arrival, I was informed they don’t provide toothpaste and I’d need to bring my own.  Da fuck.  I was already mentally drafting a 4,000-word thesis on the absurdity of luxury lodges failing at basic dental hygiene.  Yet I show up… and there it is: a full-sized tube of the ol’ shiny teeth paste waiting for me, along with everything else I’d requested.  Even the memory foam pillows, even my beloved cordial that is a nightmare to get hold of.  Talk about downplaying expectations.

When I arrived, Pixie showed me around and knew I didn’t drink, making a proper effort with preferences.  My butler, however, had no clue and kept offering me wine pairings like I was on a tasting menu.  They did restock my minibar jelly babies within minutes of me mentioning it, which frankly I resent because now I have no self-control and they knew it.

Then there were the classic new-opening blunders: housekeeping leaving my laundry behind, towels half-folded, stools abandoned in the middle of the hallway.  They returned my laundry but forgot to replace the request sheet for the next day.  No one showed up to collect me on day three, I called reception, no answer… then five minutes later, they called me back like nothing had happened.  Maintenance wandering past my suite at 3pm with my doors and windows wide open—love that for privacy.

That said, I have this love-hate relationship with new openings.  I always warn people about them, but in some ways they’re a great time to go.  The lodge is dead quiet, and corporate sends their A-team to launch it properly.  When I gave feedback to the GM, half of what I mentioned they were already aware of and fixing—things like the absurdly stupid taps.  Everyone wants your feedback.  Not the “how did you sleep?” pointless questions you always get asked, but genuine feedback on how they can improve.  And then you often see it implemented immediately.

A lot of the team here are from the local community, and with this being the first luxury lodge in the area, it’s many people’s first proper step into a completely different world.  Sure, I can complain—complaining is basically my main personality trait, asking me to stop is like expecting Nick Cannon to suddenly believe in contraception—but they did a good job.  It only takes a few people to truly make your stay, and Pixie and Denzol did that.

Suyian isn’t there yet—but at least they know it.  And if you show up to a new opening, you kind of waive the right to complain to anyone but yourself.  I signed up for the chaos.

Food

Breakfast was pleasant enough—a small buffet table with fruit, yoghurt, and a few other bits, plus a short à la carte menu.  I prefer, however, the setup at other lodges, where it’s all served to the table, feels less like an airport lounge and more like you’re being looked after.  They did offer me a milkshake, though, which is proving they know their shit and knew my preferences.  Yes, if you’ve read this far, I have never grown up and have the palette of a child who just discovered Lucky Charms.  Bryan Cranston once referred to men as “boys who shave”, and we know that’s true.

Lunch is tapas-style, with just three dessert options.  In fairness, it was absolutely delicious.  Sometimes.  I sat out on the deck with the view, which was lovely, though bafflingly, they sat me right next to the only other guest at lunch despite having a whole empty deck to work with. I didn’t think I’d be keen on lunch having no choice at all, and served family style, but they were mostly good.  Mostly.  I wouldn’t complain about the concept, more the implementation.

It became clear desserts were not going to be a highlight.  Dinner on the second night was painfully slow, though credit where it’s due: the duck main was excellent, but there was always a but, always a fine, unmemorable starter or desert to go with it.  That felt like a common theme – some good, some bad.

The snacks on drives were consistently disappointing—some biltong was the only thing I remotely enjoyed.  The cake at afternoon tea didn’t do much for me either, and pastries needed a rethink.  Dinner menus were simple, with a choice of two starters, three mains, and only one dessert.  The selection is very limited.  It’s early days, and it shows.  I met the executive chef for the entire &Beyond brand, who was training the new team.  My conclusion: he needs more time.

Activities

Things started off strangely—I was picked up from the airstrip by Denzol, who wasn’t allocated as my guide, which, in staying in over 100 safari lodges, has never happened before.  There was no real reason for it either; it’s not like the lodge was busy.  I asked to swap back to Denzol, and from that moment, the trip came to life.

I spent the whole stay sat up front, chatting for hours, laughing, occasionally looking at an animal, and just having a brilliant time.  He asked me at the end for feedback on what he could do better, and I had nothing.  Me.  Absolutely nothing.  He was fantastic.  Well… except for his fishing skills, but no one’s perfect.

Activity-wise, Suyian has plenty on offer: cow ranching experiences, camel walks (you can drink the milk, though apparently it turns your insides into a pressure hose, so I politely declined that kind offer), horse riding, fishing, nature walks, yoga, and community visits.  I tried fishing, only to be humiliated by the fish.  But Denzol was equally useless, and misery loves company.

Vehicles are either four- or six-seaters, with centre storage boxes for cameras, which I always appreciate.

Game viewing is promising but still developing.  Roads are pretty rough, some genuinely dreadful, which means getting around can be slow and bumpy. I’d love to see them arrange an agreement with neighbouring concessions like Singita or Londolozi do, because at the moment, it’s very much luck of the draw as to where the animals are.

I had some great moments: five lions early evening, where I got cocky, went for a bush break at 6:30 thinking they’d settle for the night, only to return and find them vanished—haunting me forever.  This felt personal.  They were hungry; I know they went off hunting.  I felt like my mates went out and didn’t invite me, and then I saw it all over social media the next day.

I also saw a heavily pregnant cheetah, and there are lots of antelope around, plus elephants, buffalo and apparently lots of leopards, who must have all been on holiday.  I became the first ever guest at Suyian to see wild dogs, which felt fitting, as I’m their biggest fan.  My guide had never seen them before anywhere, and I have never seen them in East Africa before.  We ended up watching them lie around doing absolutely nothing for hours straight.  Classic dogs.  Until they suddenly get up and start hunting, which brings the absolute joy followed by the inevitable post-chase adrenaline crash.  Classic dogs.

This isn’t the Mara. It’s not the Serengeti.  And it’s not sold as such. It’s not far from Borana—home to some of my favourite lodges—which, years ago, had a pretty terrible reputation for game viewing.  But with consistent conservation efforts (and a bit of luck), Borana turned into a great safari experience.  Suyian feels like it’s at the very start of that same journey.  For now, just like Borana once was, this is a post-Mara experience—something quieter and more relaxed.

But I had an absolute blast.  I would have happily stayed another few days to try some of the activities I didn’t get to do, as I was so set on finding those lions.  Which we never did.

Kids Friendly

There is a two-bedroom family room.

The Good

• Gym – for a safari lodge
• Activities

The Bad

• Rooms too close to each other, making privacy an issue
• 14 rooms – feels too large for a safari lodge
• Wildlife not in abundance

The Luxurious

• Beautiful rooms
• Stunning design
• Great facilities
• Spa
• Private concession
• Guide

Conclusion

When I used to run a software company, my team hated handing anything over to me.  As a former developer, I didn’t just know how to build things—I knew exactly how to break them. I’d spot flaws in seconds. That’s basically what it’s like walking into a brand-new property.  You notice everything.  Service issues that lack all common sense.  Design flaws that wage war against common sense.  The decorative plug covers that prevent actual plugs from fitting.  Those sinks that make hand-washing an act of athleticism.  Activities you can’t go on because the guide hasn’t finished training.

I was the only guest for parts of my stay, because not everyone is deranged enough to visit a brand-new lodge during soft opening.  So the flaws in this review, a lot of them can be accepted they will improve in time.

As far as new openings go, I was very, very impressed. None of the usual guff where half the facilities aren’t finished and nothing actually works. And definitely a step up from that place Richard Attenborough opened where the dinosaurs ate some of the guests.

The issues here are mostly minor details—except for the three fundamentals you can’t design your way out of: the number of rooms, how close they are to each other, and overall privacy. Whether those are deal-breakers is something only you can decide.  I can’t tell you how this place will feel with 28 people in camp, but I’m fairly certain the answer won’t be, “incredible—if only it were this crowded all the time.”

But this is a truly beautiful lodge.  The architecture, the design, the rooms, the facilities—they’re world-class.  The views are spectacular.  The wildlife?  Not so much.  Not yet. It’s a work in progress.  Yet let’s take into consideration that I experienced zero mosquitoes or at least zero bites, an actual miracle.  And later this year, they’re starting construction on Suyian House, a five-bedroom villa managed by &Beyond but privately owned, set well away from the main lodge with its own fully private facilities, so you never need to set foot in the main lodge if you don’t want to.  Another excuse to come back and see how things evolve.

I left with the full send-off—half the team turning up to sing me out. They’d even prepared a takeaway snack box, where the pastry chef finally cracked it with some excellent white chocolate cookies.  Shame they forgot the jelly beans, though.

Suyian is not perfect; that is an impossible ask for a property that’s been open for two weeks. It’s off to an incredible start, though. There’s a hell of a lot of promise.  I suspect the competition is paying close attention.  And give it a few years, and I imagine people will be banging down the door to come here.  Just hopefully by then, with heated pools, cooler rooms, a few more animals and sinks that work.