It takes a special kind of place to remind us of what it is to be disarmed in our judgement, slightly debonair in our stride, and somewhat dissident with conformity. A place that has the ability to reintroduce ourselves to ourselves and our long-forgotten ways of a frolic, a flirt and a fancy with beautiful things.
A place that – as finely tailored and superbly stitched together as it is – still has the ability to let itself a little loose around the edges; urging others to do the same. When we do stumble across such a rare place and settle into its utopian existence, it becomes an old acquaintance who we’ve missed dearly and are more than ready to reconnect with.
Occupying land like a grand Provençal last century dame, Dorp Hotel furtively escorts you to a land far, far away, on African soil.
The living quarters of this boutique hotel hold centre stage to clusters of intertwining family suites and garden cottages, private pools and roof terraces. Luxury accommodation is offered in capacious rooms with shady stoeps and steam rooms, and dainty studios with back yards and old benches beneath almond blossoms.
Rugged gravel pathways meander a wild bedded oasis of ancient olive trees, overgrown grasses, lemon, fig, guava and verbena trees, potted succulents and creeping tomato vines. There’s even a Virgin Bloody Mary station on the spectacular roof terrace that juices up a hearty Sunday brunch tipple to accompany that view – a view that shall be deemed the greatest the city has to offer.
At the helm of this hideaway – if we can consider but one – a lively kitchen meets a long patio with outdoor dining space adjacent a little boutique for an extra dollop of Provençal lavender. Dishes of a culinary equivalence to cashmere are served in the tropical wonderland of a dining, reclining and entertaining space that’s held together with foliage, light and a familiar affection.
Let the music and conversation flow
Tall French doors, high ceiling fans, antique cabinetry, curious collectibles, wood-burning stoves, bridge tables and tea stations, age-old portraiture, books and more books. Old maps that map the places we’ve been or still yearn to go. A pool table, a grand piano and an eternal helping of the most wonderful staff you’re likely to encounter all beat to the same drum and flow in harmony with a music library that’s shuffling its way around nostalgia.
It’s as if you’re back at that table with that old acquaintance once again. Reminding you about all of your finer traits, just as they reveal theirs. Much like a country club, yet less of the country and more of the gritty city with sincerity. It’s become your village, your Dorp, your club.
With a little help from the people you meet and the ones that share this rather special place with you. You’re back to your good old self. And it takes a very special kind of place to harness that.
Reviewed by Colleen Ogilvie
Edited by Dawn Kennedy