Review: Magashi Peninsula, Rwanda

There are safari camps you book because they are legends.  There are safari camps you book because some idiot on Reddit told you it was the best place in the world, even if they’ve never been and consider a Sheraton to be luxury.  And then there are safari camps like Magashi Peninsula, where you go, cos the idea of going for a safari in Rwanda actually sounds mental.

Akagera is not yet spoken about in the same breath as the Mara, Sabi Sands or the Serengeti.  Nor should it be.  But dismissing it would be lazy.  And although I am lazy, I was curious to see whether Rwanda could do safari at a luxury level.  

Getting There

You can arrive by helicopter from Kigali in around 25 minutes, which is obviously the correct answer.  I did that, but please, try not to be too impressed by me. 

Then, they decided to “treat” me to a boat ride for the final stretch.  This added another 15 minutes.  Some people hear “boat transfer on a lake” and imagine romance and serenity, I hear “longer route to same destination.”  Maybe I would have appreciated it more if I hadn’t just flown from Heathrow to Kigali.  I would have preferred the “get me the hell there so I can sleep” route.  Even in business class, I sleep like someone who’s been told there’s a pervert on the loose that specialises in wet wellie’s.  

Anyway, if you arrived via car, it’s over four hours drive from Kigali.  Apparently an airstrip is one day coming, but for now it’s drive to the park gate, then you’ll get picked up in a safari vehicle for around the last hour.

When I arrived at the lodge, the welcome singing routine was handled well.  By which I mean: it was brief enough.  It lasted just long enough for me not to stand there in insufferable embarrassment wondering where to put my hands, questioning the sincerity of my smile, why I’m there, what’s happening, and oh god please make it stop.  Oh god, oh god, help me, save me.  

Let’s give them an eight out of ten.  

There wasn’t a giant welcome spread waiting in the room, no breakfast (which would have been nicer), no edible sculpture of my initials, chiseled chin and ripped abs.  Slightly surprising.  But they had clearly paid attention to preferences, going through everything with me.  No toothpaste, though.  Again.  I do not know why luxury hospitality globally has declared war on basic dental care.

Setting

Magashi Peninsula sits in the north-east of Akagera National Park on a private concession overlooking Lake Rwanyakazinga, one of the largest lakes in the park. And it’s alive. Hippos everywhere, crocodiles lurking, birds doing….ok, I’ve got nothing.  Tanzania is so close you could walk there if border control had a sense of humour. Magashi comprises 60 sq. km (14, 826 acres) and is the only private-access area in Akagera National Park.

Akagera is a bit of a comeback story. It was effectively rebuilt from the ground up around 2013, when electric fencing went up and wildlife began to be reintroduced. The numbers are now improving rapidly — in many cases already pretty good — but what surprised me most was the scenery.

In fact, I will go on record and say it may well be the prettiest safari landscape I’ve ever seen.  Even if you actively dislike animals, there’s an argument for coming purely for the setting.  Ideal for that very specific cohort who loves nature while simultaneously resenting almost every living thing within it.  And to be fair, I give you permission to resent parts of it. I left with cankles galore from bites that somehow penetrated directly through my goddamn socks. Tiny little bastards. But thems the pros and cons.

The landscape is a mix of lakes, wetlands, woods, swamps, mountains, savannah, and low-rolling hills. It is lush, green, calm, and genuinely beautiful. Mist and clouds touch the top of the hills, and it feels so close you try to reach out and touch it.  There is just something about being near a lake that immediately makes everything feel better.  Close your eyes for a moment and you can almost convince yourself George Clooney is massaging your back somewhere on Lake Como, rather than you sitting in Rwanda covered in insect bites.

A lot of safari lodges rely on one of two tricks: sticking you up high where you can technically “see forever” despite not actually seeing very much, or plonking you beside a river that turns out to be mostly dry and populated by one depressed heron.  But here, I could happily spend all day beside the lake. There is constantly something happening. The wildlife is in abundance and the hills nearby make it so calming.

The rainy season runs from March to May. I was here in March and somehow largely avoided it, minus one absolutely biblical downpour early one morning that sounded like God emptying his bladder onto the roof after one too many at Applebee’s, having downed his sorrows after losing a bet on Polymarket.  The weather was actually ideal for safari. Cool enough that it never quite became t-shirt weather, which meant the animals stayed active for most of the day rather than vanishing off into the shade pretending they had emails to answer.

Rooms

This certainly is not some colossal safari megaproject where they’ve bulldozed half the continent to cram in 47 suites and a lobby pianist murdering Elton John covers. There are only three rooms: two suites and one villa. Privacy was clearly at the forefront of everything.  The rooms are spaced so far apart that walking between them would feel like a side quest.  So you drive.

Each room sits right beside the lake. I could see and hear hippos directly from my room, sometimes barely 10 metres away. And at times even closer: giraffes, impalas, fish eagles — everything felt touching distance.  I was clearly very touchy on this trip.

I’ve been told that is as large as the camp will ever become. Now, safari history is littered with properties that started “intimate” before mysteriously discovering space for another four rooms once the invoices started rolling in, so we shall see.  But if they keep it this small, I almost sympathise. More people should get the chance to experience this place, and at some point availability is going to become an absolute nightmare.

Apparently Wilderness are trying this new concept of ultra privacy, which on one hand I like, as you’ll know from my obsession with exclusive-use properties and avoiding humanity wherever possible.  On the other hand, it’s a few minutes’ drive to the lodge, and I’d much rather just walk.  Somehow I’ve spent years searching for total seclusion, only to become irritated when I actually get it.  I really am going to die miserable, aren’t I?

But back to the rooms.  I really liked the design.  The touches of green, the African feel, the materials, the elegance of it. The decor just pleases me.  The waves for the chandeliers, the bathroom tiles, the fabric for the curtains.  Well done, Wilderness.  Bravo.  I may be biased and still be thinking “perhaps not quite Singita level”, but this is not one of Wilderness’ top-tier priced lodges either, so the comparison is unfair.  Bu life is unfair, so suck it.

It has a very Mombo type feel to it, but before I go on, did I mention they have air conditioning?  Proper glorious air-conditioning.  Hoorah.  I believe a first for Wilderness.

It’s open planned, but intelligently so.  There’s no actual doors between each area, but there are door frames, giving it more of a separate feel and a sliding door to the bathroom. Storage is decent, with a dedicated area between bedroom and bathroom and a useful cloakroom by the entrance.

Tech has moved onto Starlink internet, motion sensor light in bathroom, even light switches that mostly make sense. Yet the thing that doesn’t make sense is no single master switch besides the bed and also that they still put in one lamp that you have to go bend down and fiddle around with to turn off.  We’re still not at the stage where we’re trusted with a phone though, so instead you have a Walkie Talkie instead.  But you’re trusted with your own phone, so get connected via WhatsApp with your guide.

You enter into the cloakroom, which leads into the living room that contains a kitchenette and swirling chairs with foot stools to stare out.    Of course, the bedroom also offers lake views, and is home to that single, glorious, air conditioning unit.  The bathroom is the real design piece. The shower with the glass window is the focal point – it looks cool.  Sadly, the showers use separate hot and cold controls, one of hospitality’s most stubborn crimes.

Outside, there is a shaded sofa area, plunge pool, outdoor shower, and all of it faces the lake because they are not idiots.  The roof has a sky bed, which I naturally did not ask them to turn into one and sleep there, I’m still recovering from that fucking huge spider I saw in Amangiri over 10 years ago.  It was so big, I thought it was going to abduct me.

Facilities

The main lodge is surrounded by trees, the deck built around it and it forming part of the shade and atmosphere.   The design works well, and the layers are helped by the steps that lead down to either the outdoor dining area or the firepit.  Besides outdoor dining are chairs facing out onto the lake, or a sofa.  It’s all very much built for a place of relaxation. It’s quite basic in theory, but I like it.

Here you’ll find an indoor lounge, bar, dining area, outdoor dining, firepit, lake-facing seating, and decking built around the surrounding trees.  For a property with a maximum of 8 guests, it’s certainly not cramped.

I think this might be the first Wilderness camp which has wifi in the main area.  Praise Jesus.  Strangely, it has a different password to your room, but it works.  And I’m proud to say they have managed to get a tiny boutique into this open planned area.

Spa / Gym

No spa, though treatments can be done in-room.

There is, however, a separate gym.  Credit where due: many camps would have shoved a treadmill beside a laundry cupboard.  Here you get a proper standalone, large space with treadmill, bike, rower, bench and dumbbells.  Unfortunately, the bike seat was loose enough to create trust issues and give you a very different kind of saddle sore.  But it just feels a bit empty like some of the equipment didn’t make it or the budget went AWOL.

Give me a TechnoGym bike — better still, a Peloton bike — a rack, and I’m happy. Also, air conditioning.  None.  Nothing to see here.  This is apparently where they decided enough was enough. Bedrooms? Air-conditioning. Lounge? Lovely breeze. The room specifically designed for sweating? Two fans and God’s wrath.

Activities

Magashi’s position in the north is a big advantage. You’re closer to the open plains up there, which feel more like the classic Serengeti/Mara safari feel, but without any traffic. Between the private concession and the general lack of crowds, you’ll rarely see other vehicles.  To be precise, I saw only two vehicles. There’s not full radio coverage so the communication is rather convoluted with guides having to use phones but there’s not 100% coverage of that either.

You have boating, night drives, off-roading on concession, and far more flexibility than many parks allow.  There are camps that advertise night drives, and there are camps where you finish dinner at 9pm and head straight back out.  This is the latter.

Night safari was superb. There is just something exhilarating about elephants surrounding the vehicle in complete darkness. Everything feels more tense, more unpredictable, more capable of killing you. The lions, meanwhile, were being lions. We found two males at 7am, returned at 5pm, and the lazy bastards were still in the same spot at 8pm. Pricks. Yet somehow the moment they start roaring into the night, all is forgiven. It sounds epic out there.

And the hippos. My god, the hippos. There are more here than anywhere I can remember. Half of them standing outside the water in little clusters looking like they’re holding some Illuminati summit.

Wildlife in March came with caveats.  Grass was tall, some drives were quieter, and the opening session was more “distant elephant and buffalo” than BBC trailer.  But over time the quality improved: lions, buffalo, leopard killing an impala beside camp, huge numbers of hippos, and open plains in the north where rhinos seemed to be multiplying in front of our eyes.  I’m still of the view that this is not somewhere to come for your first safari, but it’s certainly somewhere to consider, especially if you’re already in Rwanda.

The park’s story is reintroduction.  Lions from South Africa.  Rhinos from South Africa.  Others from European zoos.  You can react in two ways: despair at what humanity broke, or admire the effort to repair it.  Both are fair. Does feel a bit like FarmVille though. Which I never played, so maybe that’s right.

Yes, it’s not the Mara/Kruger etc in terms of wildlife, but it’s actually quite impressive for such a “new” park.  It’s certainly not somewhere to be ignored.

Guide

Let me let you into a little secret about these reviews. I am writing this nearly two months after leaving. I have a horrific backlog at this point, so these pieces are stitched together from notes, photos, and whatever fragments of sanity remain in my brain.  Normally, time smooths things out. You calm down. You become more balanced. The rage fades. This would have been the perfect opportunity to quietly tone this section down and move on with my life.

Apparently not.

I struggled to build any rapport with my guide because he explained absolutely everything as if I had never been to Africa before.  Or seen an animal. Or ever left the womb.  No matter how many times I had to explain it, every point was repeated multiple times, like how you’d speak to a particular dense toddler – the kind destined for a Darwin Award.  In return, I showed the interest of a dead porcupine.  He desperately needed to learn to read the room. We would stop for long explanations about things I had shown precisely zero interest in. He could have spent 30 minutes explaining how 1+1 = 2.  And 30 minutes later, checked in afterwards to explain it once more, but this time using sock puppets.

Now, perhaps this says more about me than him. Maybe if I took the Myers-Briggs test it would come back with personality type: WANKER. Entirely possible.

And to be fair, he was clearly a nice person. Enthusiastic, well-meaning, passionate. I can absolutely imagine guests loving him.  I, however, wanted the mute button.

Food

Good.  Mostly very good.

Lunch starts with a no-choice starter of soup, followed by a tapas-style spread brought to the table. No choosing, no pretending luxury is about choice, just “here’s lunch, crack on.” It worked well enough, though.  Dinner choices are selected during afternoon tea, with two starters, three mains and two desserts offered each evening.  The second dinner was excellent.  The lamb risotto was superb, the cheesecake excellent, and even the tomato carpaccio starter — which sounds like the sort of thing you tolerate as the chef stares are you, rather than actively enjoy — was very good.

Breakfast on the first morning was already waiting on the table when I sat down: overnight oats, Greek yoghurt, granola, fruit sticks, muffin, plus eggs cooked to order.  The only preference they got wrong the entire stay was including watermelon on the fruit sticks.  I finally caught them out. The second morning brought a far more substantial cooked breakfast, which I suspect was partly because I arrived later and looked ready for carbs.

Afternoon tea was hilariously sparse. One snack option. Singular. That is not afternoon tea.  That is a pantry the morning of the delivery, which should have arrived two days ago.    Easily the weakest afternoon tea I’ve ever seen at a luxury lodge. Annoyingly, it was also quite tasty.  As was the bread.  Whoever handles the bread deserves recognition.

They also arranged a full lunch setup during a boat outing after I had specifically told my guide I find boats boring.  So naturally they responded by making the boat experience really impressive.  Bastards.

There was also clear attention paid to preferences throughout. There is kindness, but sometimes not entirely in the right place. Like when someone asked if I wanted more chicken with dinner, I said yes, and what they actually meant was, “excellent, we’ll spend the next 30 minutes preparing an entirely new chicken course for you.”

And the poppyseed cookies in the room were excellent.  Important journalism.

Service

Selma, one of the managers, was an absolute delight.  The chef himself kept checking in to make sure I was having the “best stay.”  Bless him.  Very nice man.  Snacks were replenished while I was out.  Preferences were remembered.  Everyone was warm, genuine, and trying hard. I dislike that it’s so much easier to write long slabs of text when it goes wrong, but when it’s so good, it feels like a passing note.  Hence just adding a few more words to this section to pad it out.

The Good

• Facilities
• Accommodation
• Gym

The Bad

• Getting there
• My guide

The Luxurious

• Setting
• Activities
• Wildlife
• Privacy

Conclusion

Magashi Peninsula is Rwanda’s way of saying, “we can do proper safari too, not just gorillas.”  It is the first luxury safari camp in the country, and if this is the proof of concept, I can’t imagine it’s long before more and more companies enter.

This is a stylish, highly private, beautifully positioned camp in a park with upward momentum.  The lake setting is superb, the rooms are excellent, the activities are strong, and the overall sense is of somewhere still getting better.

It is not flawless.  Access is a faff unless you helicopter in.  Service can be eager in slightly the wrong direction.  My guide and I were never destined to write each other poetry.

Once (if) they get that airstrip, I think this is going to prove much more popular and become something genuinely considered as part of the Rwanda trip.