Review: Perivoli Lagoon House, South Africa

Perivoli Lagoon House is another entry into my favourite category of travel: exclusive-use properties. Four bedrooms, your own team, no other guests — just you, the landscape, and an all-inclusive, full glutenous setup that will eventually give you diabetes.

They opened in 2019, which, timing-wise, was impeccable. Like opening a strip club staffed entirely by geriatrics, and then immediately setting the place on fire for good measure. And then developing an obsessive habit of licking lampposts and dying from covid.

When we arrived, my first impression was fairly straightforward: it’s nice enough.  Not spectacular.  Not especially luxurious.  Just… nice.  And given the price point compared to the rest of this trip, that made perfect sense.  This wasn’t trying to be La Residence.  Immediately, I assumed it would be a fairly forgettable couple of nights.

Turns out, completely wrong.

Pre-arrival

Pre-arrival communication was minimal.  A message arrived asking for passports, contact numbers, and an indemnity form.  But that was it.  An ideal time to ask “anything we should know before you arrive?” or even casually question what we may want to for lunch.  For a sole use property with only two guests staying, they could have easily done more.

Getting there

This place is properly isolated.  If I were asked to design the perfect setting for a horror film, it would look something like this: an unnervingly long driveway that keeps going just long enough for you to realise there’s no turning back, the occasional snake appearing like some sort of biblical omen, and a level of remoteness where any group of friends arriving for a “relaxing getaway” would realistically last about 12 minutes before someone’s head shows up in a freezer.

Perivoli ticks all of those boxes.

In other words: it’s over a two hour drive from Cape Town.  A road was closed off on our day of arrival, taking it closer to three hours.

Setting

It sits surrounded by vast open landscape, mountains in the distance, and the lagoon and ocean stretching out nearby.  With a 140-hectare private reserve, it feels extremely isolated; completely cut off from the world.  Just down the road, there’s the beach.  Miles of it.  Well, 18km to be precise.

The nearest town, Stanford, is about half an hour away.  Hermanus — famous for whale watching — is also within reach.  But standing on the deck looking across the lagoon, civilisation feels very far away.

We came in January — peak summer — and yet the mornings were properly chilly. The wind sweeps in, clouds roll over, and suddenly you’re rushing to shut doors and light the fire as it goes from pleasant to Arctic in about thirty seconds. I was half expecting a few frost giants from Game of Thrones to wander over the ridge.  But then the sun starts to creep over the mountains and everything warms up again and life doesn’t feel all too bad.

The House

The architecture leans heavily into a modern, open-plan glass-and-concrete aesthetic.  Wave-like ceilings, vast open spaces, and full-length bifold doors create that seamless indoor–outdoor feel, framing the lagoon and surrounding landscape from almost every angle.  It’s undeniably beautiful.  Just… not quite Franschhoek levels.

The main area is centred around a combined lounge and dining space, with a small wine cabinet, a desk tucked into the corner beside yet another fireplace, and — because no property is complete without one — a boutique awkwardly placed next to the toilet. Sonos speakers and music playing give the place a vibe. Unfortunately, the internet was not so modern, and was pretty dire.  And there’s no TV, by default.  They got one in for my Dad to watch the rugby.  

Outside, a deck runs the full length of the house, so every room spills out onto it. There’s a heated pool lined with loungers, plenty of space to sit and stare out at the landscape, and a barbecue for those brave enough to stomach the weather. Otherwise known as South Africans, who will inevitably be doing it in shorts.

The one thing I struggled with was the kitchen. It sits right beside the dining table and lounge, fully embedded into the open-plan layout. Some guests may enjoy that sense of openness, but those people are technically and clinically insane.  Don’t make eye contact with them, just politely smile, walk away, and lock yourself in the bathroom until help arrives.  I prefer kitchens slightly removed, like Arijiju, so staff aren’t constantly hovering. It makes the house feel much less private. I’m not so precious that I can’t see the staff, but when there are only a handful of you staying here, it does feel like everything you say has an audience. And historically, that’s not worked out well for me.  Has anything nice ever come out of my mouth?

I will say: it’s smaller than I imagined. Not small, just… smaller.  But Perivoli did grow on me, even if I kept coming back to the same issue — the kitchen. It just doesn’t work where it is. Add in a few bits that feel randomly thrown together, and it’s clear there’s room for for improvement.  The main living area is good. It’s nicely designed. But the whole house would benefit from more space, and more importantly, more places to disappear to. You’re never more than a few metres away from someone else, which is fine in theory, less so in practice when that someone is your family.

The Bedrooms

There are four bedrooms, two facing directly toward the mountains and two facing out to the sides.  Structurally they’re almost identical, with only the artwork changing between rooms.  They’re simple.  And sometimes they occasionally feel like it was designed by someone who has never actually slept in it.

For example:

• Curtains only go about 80% of the way up because of the curved design, meaning light pours in at sunrise whether you like it or not.  Be prepared for an early rise.
• There are no plugs beside the bed.  They’re all behind it.
• Light switches have impossible to read labels on, and there are not even any besides the bed, so you need to get out of bed to turn them on/off, which seems nuts.  Only switches besides the bed are the reading lights.
• The bathroom windows are fully exposed by default, requiring you to manually wind down wooden shutters using a slow crank system that feels like you’re operating Victorian industrial machinery.

There’s air conditioning, a fan above the bed, and a wood fire, so you’re covered for all scenarios. Or, in our case, all within the space of about four hours.

What’s missing is space to retreat.  Because the house is small and open plan, there isn’t really anywhere to “hide”.  I do get the purpose of this place is to enjoy it with everyone else, but it’s too small that you’re all really in the same place.  The bedrooms could have benefited from a proper sitting area.  Instead you get a single chair beside the bed that appears to have been designed specifically to punish human backs.  Even Frankenstein’s monster wouldn’t put up with this.

There was a strange smell in the room at times.  I’d come in and find the AC on, but it wasn’t hot enough so I’d turn it off, then come and find it on again.  On the final morning, I could smell what smelt like my own terrible sweat glands – maybe that was it.

Spa & Gym

For a four-bedroom house, the gym is impressive.  In fact, it might be the best gym I’ve ever seen in an exclusive-use villa.  Someone fact check that and tell me otherwise.  There’s an assault bike, a skier, a proper weights station, dumbbells, battle ropes, and enough equipment to do a workout that my personal trainer would call “perfectly adequate”.  Two of the machines looked like they might have been purchased during the early days of the human civilisation, but overall it’s a fantastic setup.

However, there’s no spa.  Instead they bring in freelance therapists if you want treatments.  They mentioned a “German couple” providing the massages, which I interpreted as a female therapist arriving.  Instead a German man appeared at the door. He turned out to be excellent.  I just wish they’d mentioned it in advance so my brain had time to recalibrate and get over all my prejudices.  

Food

Perivoli comes with a full set of staff, including a dedicated chef. The food is good. Not mind-blowing, not something you’d fly across the world for, but solid, home-style cooking that does the job well. My only real issue was the lack of consultation — you’re largely told what you’re eating, rather than asked.

Lunch on the first day was a large sharing platter of fruit, cheese, bread, and meats.  Not especially exciting. Dinner follows a fixed three-course format with no choices. The chef appears, tells you what’s coming, and then the first course lands about ten seconds later.

Breakfast is a spread laid out on the table — fruit, yoghurt, granola, juices, cheese and meats. There’s also a daily dish (pancakes one day, fritters another), plus a hot option if you want something more substantial.

After repeatedly pestering the chef with my ever-growing list of preferences and ridiculous requests – that would make a lactose-intolerant fruitarian blush – he eventually started checking in ahead of each meal to run through what was planned. I think my stance on smoked food finally broke his spirit and was the moment he realised this wasn’t going to be a straightforward few days.

And then things really started to improve.  One evening my dad had lamb and declared it “the best meal of the trip”, before immediately requesting a second portion after complaining the night before that the portions were too big.  Consistency has never been his strength. Make up your mind, man!

Activities

This is the secret sauce of the property.  

You’re looked after by a small team consisting of Marcelino (the lodge manager), his wife, a chef, a housekeeper and a house manager — all dedicated to you.  The staff are a big part of why the place works, but ultimately the atmosphere here is set by Marcelino.  His personality carries the place.  Without him this would probably just feel like an odd architect-designed house in the middle of nowhere.  With him, it feels more like an adventure playground.

Because the house is meant to feel like your own home, the staff disappear in the evenings and return from around 7am the next morning. During the day, Marcelino will take you out and act as your own Entertainment Concierge, exploring the nearby area.  They have a nine-seater vehicle, which is vaguely safari-style, except the driver sits under a covered section that makes conversation while driving like screaming into a washing machine that’s in space.

We drove down to the beach several times. Sandboarding on the nearby dunes was an absolute highlight and far more fun than it has any right to be. Although if my arse could talk, it would disagree with that statement and instead beg for mercy.  We drove along the shoreline for what felt like an eternity and didn’t see another person the entire time.  Just waves crashing in from the Atlantic and, on one occasion, dolphins cruising along the edge of the surf.  Even a few whales were spotted.

My dad spent one afternoon tearing around on the quad bikes, clearly living his best life.  We took a river cruise, which admittedly was extremely tame, and didn’t even come with at least a bit of adrenaline as there’s no crocs down this part, but the views are spectacular.  They also have a speedboat, although during our stay the tide was too low to use it.

The list of all the activities is extensive.  And enough to keep you entertained even during a long stay. Which is why the place works.  Better still, activities are included in the rate, so you’re not left to pick between them and instead can combine everything into one.  Sandboarding on a dolphin whilst having a drink?  You bet.

Service

The service has a lovely warmth to it. I do find it strangely endearing, like the handwritten note with some corny quote for bedtime, with a cheap looking sleep mask and a single Lindt chocolate.  There’s something budget chic about it that works. I genuinely like it and found it all oddly charming.

They really seemed to pay attention to the details, like perfecting the room setup, and having some really bespoke welcome drinks and noting preferences.  But other times would somehow completely forget it.

You’re constantly being offered drinks or snacks whenever you return from activities, or sometimes even a spa treatment. Chef casually asking what my favourite chocolate is, and it just showing up as a snack the next day.   Frequently being offered food/drinks, really well looked after.  They just need to pay more attention to the preferences, especially when there’s only two of us here – like being offered olives for a pre-dinner snack.  Even when they sent the laundry to the wrong room, when there’s literally 50/50 odds of getting it right, do I somewhat find it part of the personality of this place.

The lodge works because of the staff, not because of the building.  These are some details that make a place feel a bit DIY rather than perfectly run.  But that too starts to feel like part of the charm.  This place isn’t perfect, but it’s trying, and that gives it character.

Bit strange in such an intimate environment that only Marcelino came to say goodbye. I don’t need some fake ceremony, but having not even a chance to say thank you was weird.

Kids Friendly

Yes. This is exactly the sort of place I’d come back to with kids.  They have plenty on offer, and it’s just a nice place to hang out and do things.

Conclusion

My first impression was simple: it’s ok.  The price explained a lot.  It’s not spectacular, but it’s certainly not bad either.  But slowly, it started to win me over.  I began to understand what Perivoli actually is.  This isn’t hyper-luxury.  It’s selling space, nature, privacy, and above all the experiences.  And, more specifically, it’s selling Mancelino — assuming personal ownership of lodge managers is legal.

For the price point, I very much approve.  It’s a fun place to do some activities, enjoy yourselves and chill.  They’re not trying to compete with Royal Portfolio or any of the luxury properties nearby, and that’s perfectly fine.  It’s something different.

Yes, there are issues.  Some elements feel a little amateurish.  And I will continue my campaign for the removal of the kitchen from the middle of the living room.  But over the course of the stay something slightly unexpected happened: we had fun.  Proper fun.  Sandboarding down dunes, empty beaches stretching for miles, dolphins cruising along the shoreline, sundowners beside the ocean, bike rides into town, and crashing drones into trees.  When I arrived I thought we’d be counting down the days.  By the time we left, it felt like there still wasn’t enough time.

Perivoli Lagoon House isn’t a world-class luxury property.  It’s a remote, charming, rough-around-the-edges villa that ultimately wins you over.  And the surprisingly good value for money is part of that proposition, especially if you were looking to go to Grootbos instead.

And in terms of pure enjoyment, it ended up being the most fun place we stayed on the entire trip — at one of the least luxurious properties.