92 visa requirements and new flight routes, all of this is starting to shift Wedged between a lagoon and the ocean, on a long narrow peninsula shaped like a witch’s finger, the easiest way to get to Sussurro (if not by helicopter) is by driving along a wide sandy beach, hemmed by towering cliffs, at low tide. Accessing something via the beach is not uncommon in a country where many roads aren’t tarred, and those that are, are punctuated with potholes so large they could swallow a small car. But it’s exactly this remote location that maintains Sussurro’s magic. That, and the owners’ fresh approach to an all-African aesthetic, which highlights craft in an unprecedented way. Designed by Birkett – who studied African material identity through local craft and has a background in design – the hotel is a masterclass in restraint. The six thatch standalone bungalows, built by local builders and craftsmen, have sandy cement walls, simple slatted wooden shutters to keep the baking sun out and king-size beds draped with woven bedspreads from Cape Town-based African Jacquard. On the patio, there’s an outdoor stone bath (some of which look onto the lagoon) and two simple Malawi cane chairs, ideal for morning coffee. Birkett sourced everything from the continent, especially neighbouring countries such as her home country of Zimbabwe, where she had spent time with small craft and weaving communities over a decade ago. “When we moved to the coast I was able to pull on these wonderful sources and relationships and further develop wares with groups of master craftsmen,” explains Birkett. At times, the hotel could be mistaken for a gallery with everyday objects that look like masterpieces. The sculptural wash basins are one-off stone bowls hand-chiselled by a third-generation Shona sculptor, Maxwell Sande, and the Ethiopian tray tables were hand-carved from a single trunk of wood and sourced by the late Bakary Sillah (who had a longstanding relationship with Africa Nova, which has been sourcing African objects since 1995). “Our north star through this project was to source hyper-locally,” says Birkett. “It was slower and often less economical in many ways,” she adds, “but it is the thread that runs through Sussurro’s heart.” Near the entrance, there’s a display of pots, hand-carved chairs and Mozambican fishing baskets. Even the light dances on the stone wall like some kind of installation. The main open-air dining room is set under a soaring thatched roof with an open kitchen and wooden tables and chairs, as well as a sunken bar area with woven bar stools. “In some ways, how we operate at Sussurro would seem counterintuitive,” says Birkett, adding that rather than using synthetic, high-traffic materials that are used in most hotels, everything they use is natural and therefore easily wears and tears. The maintenance is constant, with local artisans continuously repairing the roofs and furniture. As inefficient as it may sound, it’s entirely intentional. “It sustains our continued connection with the land and community and our sense of place within it.” The ilala-palm sunbeds were designed and crafted onsite with natural materials, and the thatched roofs are made from palm fronds and jekka (long grass), which they continuously reap and dry for weaving. “The bungalows themselves, as well as the outdoor furniture, maintain a life,” says Birkett. This abundance of natural materials also ensures an intense connection to nature. Throughout the property, everything is open-air, which means there is no air conditioning, also an intentional decision. The bungalows have been created with partially open CENTURION-MAGAZINE.COM
93 Coconuts grow freely on Sussurro’s grounds; left: a peek inside the property’s craft-filled library; below: the resort’s windswept beach, which frames a vast saltwater lagoon; opposite page: approaching Sussurro’s thatched-roof dining room aboard a traditional dhow
