Sequoia Lodge, Adelaide Hill, SA
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Pulling our bags, chatting excitedly, our four voices spilling over each other, we headed straight towards Mount Lofty House’s reception. It was nice to be back and feel already connected to the place, greeted by the familiar dark wood and glow of Stephen Trebilcock’s paintings. The light coming through the large windows in the bar area pulled me towards the view they framed of the valley. It was both a familiar space but different, not quite as I remember it. Do our different moods, the weather, the people we are with, make a space slightly new or is it because significant time has passed between this and the last visit?

A personal concierge, dedicated exclusively to Sequoia Lodge guests, like a smartly dressed magician whisks our bags away somewhere, and suddenly we are holding long champagne flutes. We sip, feeling the bubbles dance in our mouths, and walk out with him and down through the gardens, listening as he recounts the history of the gardens and its pièce de résistance, a majestic 150-year-old sequoia. This Californian redwood was one of the three planted by Arthur Hardy, visionary, statesman and planter of trees. The enormous tree stands strong, embracing, holding the yard and buildings together, all safe under its canopy.
The entrance is nicely secluded and private, a celebration of the famous South Australian sandstone, both inviting and hinting at a glamour and sophistication I am eager to discover and savour.

The concierge led us towards our suites where, moving with the ease and lightness of a dancer, he points to and where necessary demonstrates the many luxury features, the special buttons, nooks and crannies of a two-level suite designed for pure indulgence.  We are mesmerised once again by the view over Piccadilly Valley, spreading in many colours down and up towards the horizon. It’s hard to focus on the instructions when the view captured by the clever design allows every area, bathroom, bedroom, lounge and the balcony, to rejoice in the glorious valley. We don’t even notice when the magical dancer disappears like a genie, leaving the bottle of champagne behind. Keen to see their own suite, our friends disappear almost as swiftly, whisking the bottle of champagne away with them.

I head into the ensuite, turning taps on, filling the large bathtub and adding glorious, aromatic salts. I soak in the bath, looking through the large window. The bath energised me for a game with the shower’s futuristic buttons and many shower heads, which involved working out which one does what. The shower area has a view too, of a small, private courtyard with plants, rocks and a gigantic urn, inviting your eye and mind to wander.

After their own relaxing private intermezzo, our friends joined us in the cosy lounge area, where we sat on soft brown leather couches next to the large fireplace framed by a stunning frozen waterfall of veined sandstone spilling from the ceiling. But the main attraction is the view of the valley, with its trees, hills and hovering clouds, pouring into the lounge.
Conversation flows easily in between sips of wine, strawberries dipped in chocolate, and gourmet cheese. Drunk on good company, gorgeous surroundings and champagne, one of us becomes a little bit too engaged and spirited, pushing a point.

We agree to leave to refresh ourselves and meet again at Hardy’s Verandah Restaurant for dinner.

It’s nice to walk into Hardy’s again. I cherish the comfort that comes with knowing the place, of being there again. This surprises me, because normally my preference is for finding a new place, of discovering something and not coming back, not retracing my steps, not repeating. But Mount Lofty is somehow both the same and new.

We sit at the dinner table waiting for our friends to join us, and it is a little bit too long. It becomes uncomfortable. Should we order now or later? Should we stay or go?  After some time, eventually they join us at the table.

But the air is charged and heavy. We are unsure how to treat the situation. Politenesses fly between us, wine and menu ordering distract us. Then our friends generously admit that they argued, comfortable to be uncomfortable. The mood shifts, the energy becomes lighter and we are deep into another good conversation: discussing viewpoints, differences, disagreeing, agreeing and laughing, building a solid and steady friendship further.

And Mount Lofty House holds us in its experienced and professional embrace. The silent and efficient waiters in their starched white shirts serve wine and food onto the long white clothed tables pushed against large windows with views. Warmth came from the dark brown wooden paneling and the glorious painting on the walls. The setting supports a civilized and kind discourse.



I am looking forward to coming back soon and checking out parts of Sequoia Lodge that were not complete at the time, like the communal lodge area and spa baths, to sharing it with friends and clients, and wishing that it brings them joy, connection and comfort.