Hidden gem on Denis Pritt Road

You won’t find Seraph if you’re bad with directions and the truth is, most people are lousy when it comes to directions: Did you say left or right turn? I don’t see a blue gate! Oh, sorry, you meant a green one? Please spell the name of the road for me again.

Seraph is at the very end of Denis Pritt Road - assuming you’re coming from the State House side. Follow the tarmac right up to the end and some small dusty beaten path starts. The gate is to your left.

Seraph means a heavenly being. Not to worry, this place is not a church. But come to think of it, nor is it a bar in the proper sense of the word.

The place started out as spa where high society ladies went to have their nails and hair done. Or where they met for those chama (group) meetings and hen parties (they still do all that).

Then it must have occurred to the owner to set up a bar because most of the women loved to have a drink while they waited for their session to start or soon after they were done. What happened was, they set up a few gazebos in the garden.

As you would have it, the men found out about this place and decided to join the party. Inside there is a cigar lounge for the men, somewhere they can catch a smoke and a tipple as their women get Brazilian waxed upstairs.

To accommodate the men’s whims, they also set up Wednesdays as men’s night where nyama choma is roasted on the spit and cigars are passed around.

I hope this sounds highbrow enough, because it is. House wine comes in these fancy glasses beaded at the stem.

The house wine itself isn’t much to write home about (you might want to pick a bottle from their menu though) but the service overshadows everything else.

The waitresses are very courteous and – to use a girlie terminology – “sweet”.

Parking is a nightmare though. Inside, the compound can accommodate only four Mercedes Benzes and maybe leave enough room for a Vitz. But there is parking outside the gate, where the uniformed guards will keep an eye on it.