A lodge takes shape slowly, and we'd rather you saw the whole of it. Here is the story so far — the land, the stone, the water — as it unfolds.
Before a single stone, there were lines on a map. Weeks of walking the shoreline, marking where the land meets the water, and where Ituze would one day stand.
Seen from the air, the site tells its own story — terraced hills folding down to the lake, the quiet peninsula that will hold the lodge.
Before anything is built, we're researching the most natural and locally available materials — volcanic stone from the surrounding hills is one fine example, alongside valley timber and thatch. Whatever the lodge is made of, it should be of this place, not hauled in from far away.
We stood on the shore at dawn and understood, again, why we chose this water.
Roofs, gardens, the first fires lit. We'll write to the waitlist before anyone else when a date is set.
We'll send a quiet note as each chapter arrives — and the first word when we open.