As we gathered beneath the lantern-lit canopy, the air was thick with warmth and a sense of belonging. The design spoke in layers rather than statements. Inky green, black, and restrained gold folded into one another. Colours chosen not for trend, but for memory, lineage, and land. Leopard motifs appeared and vanished like sightings in the bush, echoed in sculptural forms and flowering leopard orchids.
The food, like the design, was layered with story.
Each place setting held a beautifully crafted booklet, part menu, part time capsule, guiding us through Londolozi’s unfolding journey from 1926 to 2026. Five courses, each anchored in meaning a menu through the ages.
The dishes themselves were exquisite and intentional: a silken Cauliflower Parfait, Malay Curried Lobster rich with warmth and spice, a perfectly executed Fillet of Beef, and playful Homemade African S’mores that drew smiles around the table.
But the pièce de résistance arrived in the form of Impala Wontons – slow-braised, shredded impala wrapped delicately in wonton pastry, deep-fried to crisp perfection, and served with a deep, glossy impala cherry jus. A dish that honoured the land not as a concept, but as a relationship.
This extraordinary culinary narrative was the work of Executive Chefs Chane Davenport and Kelly Taylor, whose mastery lay not just in flavour, but in storytelling, reminding us that food, when done with reverence, becomes memory.
The design was somatic storytelling – shaping how we felt before we ever had a chance to think. Old memorabilia surfaced softly within contemporary forms, while new logos emerged like modern signals: grounded in legacy, yet alive with evolution.
The space didn’t explain the story; it held it. And beneath the Elder Tree, wrapped in light and quiet symbolism, we found ourselves no longer observing Londolozi’s story, but standing inside it.
New Year’s Eve at Londolozi has always held its own kind of magic.
The music, the laughter, the bushveld sky stitched with stars – it’s a night that lingers long after it’s passed. But this year, something deeper pulsed beneath it all.
]]>
Duncan MacLarty, Londolozi’s General Manager of 18 years, stepped forward to open the evening. He spoke of the rarity of this moment: a pause between what has been and what is still becoming.
Duncan shared the following:
On this special night, during the course of the evening, we hope to take you back in time – provide a sense nostalgia, a sense of context and of course a sense of fun. Telling stories has always been an important part of our experience and tonight is no different. What a wonderful opportunity this is for us to punctuate each of the five carefully considered courses with stories, poetry and song in an attempt to acknowledge Londolozi and it’s century of life.
But before we get going with any of this, perhaps the most important acknowledgement of the evening is to you our Guests. Without you, and the many others who return year in and year out, Londolozi – quite simply – would cease to be. It’s amazing to think that on this same night 19 years ago – 31 December 2007 – 12 of our guests seated on this deck had been before. Tonight 52 of you are here again – back for yet another visit – and I cannot tell you how honoured we are that you continue to choose us. To those of you who are visiting us for the first time, we deeply appreciate your choice to come to Londolozi and we hope that your stay on this special occasion will also be the first of many.
The other important acknowledgement that bears mentioning is to the 290 staff who make up the wider Londolozi family. Some of you are here tonight, many are not and others still left a long time ago, but not before adding their important and valuable brick in the wall. Londolozi’s people make Londolozi what it is – a melting pot of ages, cultures, backgrounds and beliefs and the Secret Sauce that is the Londolozi Experience.
And finally, we honour the co-founding families of Londolozi, the Varty and Taylor families, whose generations of stewardship, courage, and care have protected this place and its people. Through their custodianship, Londolozi has been held not just as land, but as a living, evolving campfire story, one that continues to unfold, illuminate, and connect all who gather here.
He did not recount the well-known history, the gin and tonics at a tennis party, the pioneers who bought a bankrupt cattle farm, but rather he invited us into something far more intimate.
He began by introducing himself simply: as the great-grandson of Charles Boyd Varty, who bought this land in 1926, and the son of co-founders Dave and Shan Varty, who dared to imagine something radically different here.
Then he turned our attention to the great ebony tree beneath which we sat.
An elder.
A Lowveld giant.
He explained that trees are aged by measuring their diameter at chest height, an imprecise science when dealing with beings that live in a different dimension of time altogether. The best estimate places this ebony between 270 and 420 years old.
Even conservatively, Boyd said, this tree was already nearly two centuries old when his great-grandfather first arrived here and slept beneath its branches.
And suddenly, time rearranged itself.
This tree has watched Londolozi rise from nothing.
It has seen elephants and leopards pass by in their numbers.
Baboons feasting on ebony fruit at the top of its branches.
People fall in love on the deck and sometimes fall apart.
It has witnessed healing, heartbreak, wild celebrations, and unforgettable storms where its branches were shaken, but its roots held firm.
It has stood quietly as the Sand River flowed, as small camps were built, as Londolozi was mandated by Nelson Mandela to become a blueprint for conservation in southern Africa.
And on New Year’s Eve, it bore witness to the beginning of Londolozi’s 100th year.
Trees, Boyd reminded us, put time in perspective.
They humble human urgency against nature’s patience.
As Boyd spoke, it became clear that Londolozi’s story is not something finished or neatly told. It is still unfolding, shaped by every person and animal who arrives, every story shared, every moment of care and courage.
Boyd’s Sister, Bronwyn, closed the evening, offering deep gratitude
As we begin to move from ceremony into celebration, may I ask you to raise your glasses,
To long swims in the river and warm granite rocks beneath our backs.
To dusk — and the sound of lantern handles hitting glass, nightjars calling, hippos breaking the dark.
And to that great silence… the kind that reminds us who we are.
To the first lion tracks in soft earth, to exhilaration that goes beyond excitement.
To big spaces, old paths, tired legs, metallic water, and stories told by firelight.
To grief and birth, doubt and beginning, dreams held together by friendship and faith.
To the land — not just knowing it, but being known by it.
To marula trees heavy with fruit, leadwoods standing watch, elephants returning.
To the moment a leopard turns and meets your gaze, and time forgets itself.
To simplicity that feels like luxury.
To firelight, moonlight, and anything but neon light.
To patience, presence, and the quiet wisdom that runs through all living things.
To those who came before us, and those still to come.
To ancestors and descendants who swim in the same waters, under the same stars.
To service, to family, to a life’s work shaped by love.
To Londolozi — protector, teacher, home.
A hundred years held gently in dust and light.
And as the night settles, may we remember this:
The light endures, so let us hold the light.
On her last word, we hear the African drum and the Londolozi family began moving quietly under the tree, carrying golden lanterns and sparklers flickering like fireflies.
The Varty Deck glowed not with spectacle, but with intention.
It felt as though we were standing inside a living African mandala.
Then the Londolozi Ladies Choir began to sing.
Their voices rose into the night air like prayer, like remembrance. One by one, members of the Londolozi family stood and joined them.
And when the first notes of Jerusalema by Master KG rang out, we were all on our feet – swaying, singing, holding that sacred pause between centuries.
I don’t think I will ever forget it.
Most excitingly, Londolozi announced a landmark commitment to the Good Work Foundation — a bold, meaningful investment
R10 million donated to the Good Work Foundation, One million rand for each decade of Londolozi’s journey. This gift honours the belief that conservation and community upliftment must always walk hand in hand. It was met with audible delight and deep resonance across the gathering, a reminder that legacy is measured not only in years, but in lives changed.
Many have asked how to celebrate our centenary with us. And so we invite you to reimagine education alongside us, a gift that lives far beyond a hundred years.
The evening also marked the launch of a bespoke Londolozi Centenary Sparkling Wine, created in partnership with Graham Beck. Aptly named Bottled African Stars, the cuvée felt like a celebration distilled, crisp, luminous, and quietly confident (with a hint of honey). A true meeting of shared values: excellence, patience, craft, and a profound respect for land and time.
And last – but certainly not least – came the unveiling of the Londolozi Alumni Alliance Craft Gin, a spirited nod to the enduring “Family Spirit” of Londolozi. Crafted in collaboration with the Jordan family, this custom gin carries the essence of gathering, storytelling, and connection. It speaks to the campfire moments, the friendships forged, and the many paths that continue to circle back to this place.
These beautifully crafted tipples will sit at the heart of celebrations and sundowners throughout the centenary year – raised in toasts under African skies, shared in moments of reflection and joy, and woven into 365 days of gratitude, memory, and belonging as Londolozi will not celebrate this milestone with this one single event of tonight, but every single day of 2026.
As the night drew to a close, and the lanterns flickered their final golden glimmers, I couldn’t help but feel the weight and wonder of this moment – a hundred years held gently in dust and light, a legacy woven from land, wildlife, family, and every soul who has walked these paths, each adding their log to the never-ending campfire story.
Londolozi, you are more than a place; you are a story still unfolding, an African village of consciousness, a ripple that reaches far beyond your borders, a teacher of patience, presence, and care. This is only the beginning. Across the year ahead, there will be more stories to share, more celebrations to live, and more moments when the land itself whispers its wisdom. Stay with us as we honour the past, celebrate the present, and step together into the next century of wonder, connection, and light.
Londolozi, Happy 100th Birthday!
Source link