It’s 6:30 a.m. on the Grumeti Game Reserve, and the sun is rising from behind the just-visible hills on the horizon. As far as the eye can see, pockets of scrub and golden grassland dot the savannah; above it, streaks of gray cloud begin to glow with the dusty pink and purple of the morning sun. Looking closer, I spot a cluster of trees rippling far in the distance; the telltale wobble meaning lions are on the prowl, making their final go-around after a long night of hunting. It is about as picture-postcard a view of the East African wilderness as you’re likely to get, and I’m taking it all in—this bigger-than-an-Imax-screen window onto nature at its most primal—under a cozy woolen blanket on the sofa of my own private terrace, a mug of freshly brewed coffee in one hand and a pair of binoculars in the other.
I had traveled to Tanzania, to a 350,000-acre reserve on the northwestern corner of the Serengeti, to visit Singita Milele. This new, exclusive-use lodge promises to offer what is about the most private—and luxurious—safari experience you can have. But I had also traveled here partly to find out what all the fuss was about regarding Singita: numerous trustworthy sources had told me that there are safaris, and then there are Singita safaris. That isn’t merely because of all the bells and whistles (and wellness treatments and swimming pools and chef-prepared meals—and those cozy, cozy blankets), but also due to their pioneering, passionate commitment to conservation. The family-owned company bills itself as a “conscious hospitality” outfit first, and a portfolio of luxury African lodges second.
My journey began with a long flight to Kilimanjaro airport, where I was greeted with the predictably delightful chaos of customs at a remote East African airport—but within moments of being greeted by the Singita team at the baggage claim and being plied with homemade snacks, the experience had begun. Before I knew it, I was whisked away to the charming Legendary Lodge—a cluster of cottages scattered around elegantly landscaped gardens, the silhouette of Kilimanjaro looming in the distance—on the outskirts of town, where four-poster beds, an outdoor massage, and a hearty three-course dinner awaited us.
The next morning, it was back to the airport to fly Grumeti Air out to the reserve. As we approached our landing, the landscapes of this idyllic corner of the world unfolded: lush grasslands, tendrils of river snaking their way across the plains, clusters of animals feeding and watering that appeared, from above, like toy figurines on a Warhammer board. The “airport terminal” out here was an elegant tent tucked away beneath the shade of a sprawling acacia tree, and upon entering, cool scented towels and iced tea were served to us as we filled in the necessary paperwork and watched our luggage be carted off up Sasakwa Hill in open-top Land Cruisers.
All of this, clearly, was to ensure as theatrical as possible an entrance to Singita Milele—and it had the desired effect. As we pulled up to the entrance and walked through the doorway, those expansive views revealed themselves, leading to more than a few audible gasps: the vast plains and pastures, the rolling hills in the distance, and, if you squinted a little, a herd of elephants trundling through the undergrowth. The only thing that could rival the view was Milele itself: to our left, a sweeping infinity pool lined with sun loungers and a firepit that juts out over a rocky outcrop; to our right, the expansive villa-within-a-villa that serves as a master bedroom—all geometric slabs of wood and glass.
While the buildings are a study in cutting-edge contemporary architecture, they’re artfully integrated with the topography of the hill, appearing to flow gracefully over the clifftop. The diligent attention to design—much of which comes courtesy of artisans from across east and southern Africa, whether ceramics from Cape Town or hand-woven textiles from a fair-trade social enterprise in Tanzania itself—meant I was pausing at every corner on my property tour, just to ask: “Who made this? Where is this from?”
After a welcome cocktail (well, a cold non-alcoholic beer after that long journey) and a whistle-stop tour of all the amenities—a glass-walled state-of-the-art fitness center, an open kitchen for cooking classes, a 10-person cinema room for rainy days in the bush—it was time to take in my room, where the running theme of modish African design continued. I was booked into the Dazzle suite (along with Crash, Pride, and Coalition, the suites are named after groups of safari animals), which featured a muted grayscale color scheme as a nod to its zebra namesake, with sumptuous jet-black vessels artfully scattered across blackened wood surfaces and sculptural artworks hanging on the walls.
Most importantly, though, it was seriously comfy: waking up here every morning, I kept thinking how extraordinary it was to be enjoying this level of luxury at a place so remote. Here, in the bush, hosting a late-night screening in the cinema room of The Substance over freshly made popcorn, then heading to my bathtub and soak in Himalayan salts while watching the stars twinkle more brightly in the sky than I’ve ever seen in my life. (Stargazing sessions are on offer, too.)
But of course, you don’t come to the Serengeti to watch horror movies, or to spend the day working out in a glass-walled gym, or even to stargaze: you come here to see the wildlife up close. And the wildlife was, across the four countries and seven camps I’ve had the privilege of visiting on African safaris, among the most extraordinary I have ever witnessed—not least because you’ll barely ever see another vehicle, as Singita is the only company allowed to operate across that enormous reserve. You’ll be up at the crack of dawn to head out and spot a male and female lion languidly rolling from one side to the other as their cubs prod and poke and play around them—just you and the pride, merely feet away from each other—before meandering through a forested area to track a leopard nestled in the branches of a tree, chowing down on its latest catch. A highlight was a night safari, where the headlight beams of our 4x4 lit up the piercing eyes of a pack of hyenas, whooping and rustling their way through the undergrowth to scavenge, and owls and nightjars pattering around in the trees above.
Arguably the most important thing, though—especially after a long day of tracking animals and being bounced around the backseat of a 4x4 like you’re on an hours-long rollercoaster—was the eye-popping array of food that was always ready and waiting back at Milele for our group to dive into. You will not go hungry here. Breakfast runs the full gamut, from fresh eggs to homemade granolas and yogurt, while lunch will offer a spread of everything from perfectly charred BBQ chicken skewers to homemade mozzarella salads, and spreads of fresh fruit and delicate pastries for a dose of something sweet before heading back out into the wild. (Another highlight was an evening spent partaking in a cooking class whipping up local dishes, specifically East African-style chapatis to dip into a perfectly spiced sweet potato stew following a local recipe.)
As a fellow journalist on the trip and I reclined on an umbrella-shaded daybed, gazing across the evening haze of the savannah as we sipped sundowners, we were in full agreement: this really is about as good a safari experience as it gets. The word Milele is Swahili for “forever,” and I, for one, could have stayed there for a very, very long time indeed.
But the way in which Singita operates—with a handful of properties scattered around the reserve, of very different shapes and sizes according to their surroundings—means that it would be remiss of you to come all this way and spend time in just one lodge. So, after a few nights of unabashed luxury, we headed down the hill and into the depths of the wilderness to “rough it” (rest assured, this is still roughing it Singita-style) at their Explore camp, which consists of six roaming tents that can only be rented by a single group at a time, making for the ultimate in safari seclusion.
Here, the emphasis is on more adventurous safari pursuits: guided walks to spot zebra, or bird watching, or visits to the local community. (After a few days of game viewing, there was also a well-timed afternoon of games, including archery set up on the endless lawn and board games by the pool—yes, there’s still a pool all the way out here.) If anything, I was most impressed by the food at Explore, simply because all the family-style meals were being rustled up from a kitchen tent, with dinners typically followed by a spot of stargazing through a telescope set up by a guide with a passion for astronomy.
Then, it was on to the Sabora Tented Camp, a mere 20-minute drive from Explore, but another world entirely: set in the middle of a seemingly boundless plain with panoramic views from every corner of the property, it’s a study in design-forward safari style, with every space decked out in the classic textures of earth-toned linens and buttery brown leathers but with plenty of contemporary flair. Each room is technically a tent, sure, but you’ve never seen tents quite like these: all nine suites feature fully equipped bathrooms with tubs overlooking the waterholes where animals gather every morning and afternoon, as well as every mod con you could possibly think of, from well-stocked pantries to coffee machines, and meditation decks with daybeds.
The game drives here are as spectacular as any in the Serengeti, with the team paying particular attention to tailoring each drive to the wildlife you specifically want to see. Back at base camp, there’s an emphasis on relaxation, whether that’s a visit to one of the wellness treatment rooms for a massage to work out the knots from a morning bumping around the 4x4, cocktails and snacks from the 24/7 “guest deli” to enjoy by the pool, or a yoga session at sunrise.
Relaying all this pampering may come across a little obscene, and yet, it never felt that way. You can chalk that up partly to the genuine enthusiasm every staff member I met—from chef to safari guide to housekeeper—seemed to have for the Singita project. And if there were any remaining vestiges of skepticism, they were quickly dispelled after visiting the main hub operated by the Grumeti Fund, Singita’s non-profit partner in Tanzania, and witnessing what they do up close.
Here, we were taken through the various programs run by the fund to protect the wildlife—like their anti-poaching units, whose movements across the park are displayed on a floor-to-ceiling monitor like you’re in the White House Situation Room, and their ongoing efforts to reintroduce the critically endangered Eastern Black Rhino to the local ecosystem—as well as to support nearby communities. The vast majority of staff come from local villages and come up through Singita’s conservation and hospitality training programs. It’s all wildly luxurious, sure, but it also has a conscience.
Despite having only gone on safari for the first time just over three years ago—not coincidentally, soon after I started working as a travel editor—I quickly discovered it was my favorite form of travel, and have spent the past few years sampling (and writing about) as many different approaches to the art of the safari as I’ve been able to. (It’s a hard job, but someone’s gotta do it.) And without wishing to sound too breathless or gushing about it all, Singita really is the ne plus ultra of African safaris—its unique blend of luxury, genuinely impactful conservation, and mind-bogglingly attentive levels of service sets it in another league. It may not be the cheapest—well, it certainly isn’t the cheapest—but my goodness, if you can afford it, this is an experience that is worth every single cent.
