Back to one of the best hotels we have stayed at. There was, of course, a but. There always is.
We had stayed at Delaire Graff years ago, back when Indochine was still Indochine and the lodge count was smaller. We loved it then. One of the best massages I have ever had at a spa, pre-dinner snacks delivered to the room before dinner, the kind of stay that lingers.
A lot has changed since. Indochine is now Hōseki, meaning “jewel” in Japanese, a nod to the estate’s owner, the diamond magnate Laurence Graff. Same head chef, Virgil Kahn. Same swallows in the roof. The lodges have been refurbished, six new Superior Lodges added. The estate now has 16 lodges and a villa across five categories. Still intimate. Still up on the hill.
We booked three nights over a weekend. No agenda. Just the pool, the view, and perhaps a vineyard visit or two.
Arriving from our previous hotel in Franschhoek, the difference was immediate. More people, a pulse. Not too much, just right. Almost like returning to civilisation.
A member of staff was waiting outside when we pulled up. Check-in was smooth, drinks offered. Behind reception, a wine wall stretches across the room, with the new wine room tucked in just beside it.
We were shown to our lodge in the last row on the hill. A Superior Lodge, an upgrade from the Luxury Lodge we had booked. The view was beautiful. The room, genuinely lovely.
But.
The main road runs along the bottom of the hill. On a Friday afternoon, with local traffic in full swing, the noise carried. Lorries huffing and puffing up the pass, motorcycles blowing off steam on a winding road, making sure everyone knew it was Friday. We were there to sit by our plunge pool, getting some sun and doing nothing. This was not nothing. This was a soundtrack we did not ask for.
So I walked back to reception. They showed us another room further up. Also no. We asked if there was something available where we had stayed last time, the Garden Lodges. A downgrade from what we had originally booked, but we knew it was quiet.
The woman at reception insisted on showing us room six. I was the Swede trying to downgrade us, and she was having none of it.
Room six turned out to be Presidential Lodge 2. Two bedrooms, 130 square metres, a 12-metre heated pool, views across the vineyards toward Simonsberg.
Not a Toto, the Japanese toilet that spoils you forever, but a Geberit. “It’s European!”
Almost the same, but not quite.
I cannot say whether they had few guests that weekend or whether this is simply how Delaire Graff operates. I think the latter. And they proved it so many times over the three days that followed.
Delaire Graff Estate is built on two levels, and it helps to understand this before you arrive.
It is one road up the hill. To the left, you turn in to the Delaire Graff Restaurant, Lorenzo’s, the wine lounge, the Graff Diamonds boutique, and a handful of other shops. All open to the public. Popular. On a sunny afternoon, busy.
Continue up the road and you reach the hotel. Past the last staff member who waves you in like a ground crew directing a fighter jet to its runway.
The estate sits on the Helshoogte Pass, “Hell’s Heights” in Afrikaans. Sounds like something out of Lord of the Rings. Looks nothing like it.
The tension between the two levels is the balancing act of the place. Hōseki cannot survive on hotel guests alone. To keep the standard, they need outside visitors. But it means there are moments when the tranquillity breaks, and you are reminded that Delaire Graff is also a destination for anyone driving the pass with a credit card and a lunch or dinner reservation.
Lorenzo’s sits a little further down the hill, outdoors and under a timber pergola. The view is stunning. If you are feeling lazy, too hot, or it is raining, the hotel will send a golf cart. We were lazy.
Good honest Roman style pizza from a wood-fired oven clad in 250 bronze panels and shaped like a diamond, because of course it is. Good wine, shade, mountain views. Exactly what you want from a lunch that is not trying to be anything more.
Delaire Graff Restaurant is a beautiful room. Stunning, even. The service was excellent. The food, however, could improve. I had the lamb, a little chewy with too much fat. The flavours went in different directions and never came together.
Hōseki was a restaurant highlight. Not just of Delaire Graff, but of the trip.
Walk in and the staff burst out with “Irasshaimase!”, the traditional Japanese welcome. It sets the tone immediately.
We have never been especially drawn to Japanese food. We have eaten at Single Thread in Healdsburg, set in wine country much like this. Hōseki changed how we think about Japanese food. I think this was the turning point for us. Perhaps that is why we are going to Japan in October.
We had dinner there twice. The dishes were outstanding. Here we could try different cuts of bluefin tuna, from akami to toro, learning the fish rather than just eating it. The chicken yakitori were light, perfectly succulent, and the flavours came together with that gentle charcoal note.
The only letdown was one evening when a large group of 15 to 20 people arrived for some kind of celebration. The atmosphere shifted immediately. The service stayed excellent, but the feeling disappeared. We escaped to the small lounge just inside the entrance, what I think is a quiet nod to the old Indochine.
Chef Virgil Kahn has been at the estate since 2010, first at Indochine and now at Hōseki. Whatever the name on the door, the kitchen knows what it is doing.
On our last evening, we were told to be at reception at five o’clock sharp. They said they had a surprise for us. I thought perhaps a wine tasting in the wine room, which we had turned down earlier, or a sundowner next to the pool, watching the sunset.
We were shown outside to an off-road buggy.
They drove us up a steep hill, vineyards on both sides, to a grass plateau at the top. A table was set. Two waiters were waiting. Bites from Hōseki, a bottle of Delaire Graff sparkling. They poured, they served, and then they left.
I felt tears in my eyes. The view made me feel small in the best possible way. Endless view and mountains all around.
I do not know why, but I started thinking about the people I have known who are no longer alive. I missed my mother and father, but I felt them there, looking down, nodding with a smile.
They told us many people have proposed on that plateau, and the answer has always been yes. Of course it has.
That is what Delaire Graff does. It does not just meet expectations. It goes past them, quietly, without making a fuss, until you are standing on a hill with a glass of sparkling wine and tears running down your face and you get the urge to propose to your wife once again.
The hospitality across the estate was exceptional. Not performed, not rehearsed. Natural. When people love doing this, it tells.
We saw the general manager, Werner Wentzel, around the property several times during our stay. The staff just call him Werner. That says something. At the end of our stay, I went to find him. For once, it was not to complain. I told him I was flabbergasted. The staff, the gestures, the instinct to make things right before you even have to ask.
Delaire Graff Estate is tranquillity with a view that is hard to match. It can get a little busy with outside guests, depending on when you stay. But the DNA of this place is its own.
The setting, the art, the 400-piece collection scattered across the grounds, the lodges, the food at Hōseki. All of it matters. But the people are what make it tick.
We returned because the first stay stayed with us. This one will too.
Second time
Late March 2026
3
Presidential Lodge 2
Excellent
95%
Room service or one of the breakfast restaurants.
Do not remember, so probably fine.
Yes
Yes, a Garden Lodge next time.
