Tag: Simon Lepasiele

There’s a good chance you haven’t heard of Saruni Samburu. I hadn’t either, at least not until I found myself bouncing up a steep rocky track in northern Kenya, half-convinced we were lost. The road twisted up the side of a cliff, dust swirling behind us. Our driver grinned and called it “the Saruni Highway,” promising the climb would be worth it.

It already had a lot to live up to. My husband and I had just come from Giraffe Manor in Nairobi — the hotel where giraffes poke their heads through your window at breakfast. It’s the kind of place that floods your Instagram feed, the one everyone recognizes. I didn’t think anything could top it. Then we reached the cliff’s edge, and the land fell away beneath us.

Saruni Samburu revealed itself slowly: a handful of villas built into volcanic rock, perched above 200,000 acres of untouched wilderness in the Kalama Conservancy. The heat shimmered, and the sky stretched forever. For the first time that trip, everything went quiet.

A Lodge on the Edge of the Wild

Saruni Samburu is small — only six villas, each folded into the cliff as if it had grown there on its own. My husband and I stayed in Villa 3, a short, uphill walk from the main lodge. “Short” is relative when it’s already pushing ninety degrees before breakfast, but once we stepped inside, the heat didn’t matter.

The villa opened to the valley. There was a separate bedroom, a sitting and dining area, and a terrace that looked over miles of untouched land. A small fridge held cold drinks, and a jug of filtered water sat beside reusable bottles. Laundry service was included — a small mercy when your bush-plane allowance caps at 33 pounds per person (and my camera gear is pushing 20 pounds!).

The bathroom felt like an outdoor spa with twin sinks, a deep tub, and a shower open to the sky. The water pressure was perfect, and the handmade soaps smelled faintly of cedar and herbs. I’m still annoyed I didn’t buy them from the gift shop.

Between Drives

Afternoons moved in slow motion. The heat wrapped the lodge in stillness, and most guests drifted toward the infinity pools. One sits near the main area; the other is higher up, with a view that looks straight into forever. Monkeys sometimes lingered by the water, watching us as if we were the novelty.

There’s a small spa as well. My husband used our complimentary massage while I sat by the pool with a book, too lazy to turn the pages. At Saruni, doing nothing feels like part of the rhythm.

When evening came, the staff set out beanbags by the open-air bar for stargazing. Benson, the headwaiter and resident stargazer, pointed out constellations with a laser, his voice low and steady. It’s hard to describe how vast the sky feels that far from city light — like someone turned the world upside down and let the stars spill out.

Meals Worth Remembering

Food wasn’t something I expected to care about here. You’re hours from the nearest grocery store, but every meal felt thoughtful and fresh. The lodge leans Italian with handmade pasta, crisp salads, and warm bread. Lunch and dinner were three courses but never heavy. (I am still dreaming about the food from Saruni.)

Each morning, we were brought coffee and cookies to our door before sunrise. Later, we’d stop by the river for breakfast: pancakes, bacon, fruit, yogurt. Once, we watched elephants graze as we ate. I remember thinking that this was what quiet happiness felt like.

One night, the staff surprised us with dinner under the stars. They set up a bonfire and invited a few Samburu dancers to sing. The fire crackled, the night was warm, and it felt like the world had shrunk to that circle of light.

Guides Who Bring the Land to Life

Our guide, Simon Lepasiele, grew up in this region. His tracking skills seemed impossible. He could spot a leopard through the brush while telling stories about his childhood here.

The first afternoon of our stay, we saw a lioness calling out for her lost cubs, her haunting voice echoing through the hills. On our last morning, Simon suddenly stopped the jeep, pointing to a few small paw prints, no bigger than a house cat’s. He followed them until we found her again — this time with her cubs tucked beside her in a dense bush.

It was an emotional moment that made me realize how much these guides read the land in ways we never could. The joy of the other Saruni guides crackling over the radio at this news is also something I will never forget. The guides in Samburu truly care about the land and its animals.

Each villa also has its own host who handles every meal and drink. Ours, another Simon, seemed to appear whenever we needed him — coffee at dawn, cold water in the afternoon, wine at sunset. His kindness made the stay feel personal, not polished.

A Different Kind of Safari

Samburu doesn’t compete with the Maasai Mara; it tells a different story. While animal sightings aren’t as plentiful as in the Mara, you will have to work a bit for them. There also aren’t hordes of safari vehicles crowding around animals, like in the Mara. This is a place that feels untouched by mass tourism, a place that is truly wild.

It’s home to the “Samburu Special Five” — animals you won’t find farther south: the reticulated giraffe, Grevy’s zebra, Somali ostrich, gerenuk, and beisa oryx. We saw all of them, plus herds of elephants so large it felt like the land itself was moving. Samburu has SO many elephants. It is just amazing.

How We Booked It

I planned this trip through Go2Africa, a travel company that came recommended by other travelers I trust. Lauren, our consultant, paired us with Saruni Lodges and made everything seamless.

We visited in February, the mid-season. At that time, rates started around $700 per person per night, including meals, game drives, drinks, and transfers. Sundowners — those cocktails you sip while the sun dips behind the hills — come standard, not extra.

For what it offers, it’s worth every cent.

What Stayed With Me

On our final morning, I stood on the terrace watching the light shift over the valley. The air was still, except for the faint sound of birds waking somewhere below.

Giraffe Manor had been unforgettable, but Saruni Samburu left a different mark. Samburu is not about theatrics or photo-ops. It’s about space — the kind that stretches your sense of time and leaves you a little quieter inside.

I rarely go back to the same destination twice. There’s too much world left to see. But I’d climb that rocky road again without hesitation.

You can see more from our stay at Saruni Samburu in my full YouTube video below.

If you’re planning a similar trip, you can read my post on what to wear on safari in Kenya for practical packing tips and outfit ideas. And if you’re curious about another unforgettable stay, here’s my full story on Saruni Rhino — where we tracked endangered black rhinos on foot.