journalism

Anthony Horowitz's Omani journey ends in an Arabian mountain retreat perched above a vast canyon.

Normally, when I go on holiday, I’m interested in monuments and museums, culture and ethnography. Why travel if you don’t learn something about the country you are visiting? I’ve never really been one to stretch out on a beach. It’s almost impossible, I think, to find a comfortable position when you’re on sand – unless you’re a camel. IPads overheat in the sun. Books get scorched. And what’s the point of acquiring a tan that will fade in two weeks and which, doctors assure us, is best avoided in the first place?

Hotels, therefore, are never my first priority. They just have to be pleasant, comfortable, and in roughly the right place. That said, there are “destination hotels” which are exactly that – a destination in themselves – and this Easter, worn out by Foyle, Bond, Alex Rider and all the other fictitious characters who employ me, I decided to visit two of them, both in Oman.

I have visited the Sultanate of Oman (its official name) before and liked it very much. It’s a remarkably peaceful place that has somehow managed to avoid the headlines we now associate with so much of the Arab world. It can’t be much fun having Yemen and Saudi Arabia as your neighbours – particularly with hundreds of foreigners crossing the border, seeking safety. But Oman has kept its head down. It is very safe. Tourism remains its fastest-growing industry.

^{The Grand Mosque in Oman (Fotolia/AP)}

Indeed, the first hotel I visited was almost brand new. The Alila Jabal Akhdar opened less than a year ago in an area that has only recently been made accessible to tourists. It is still, in fact, a military zone and as you drive up the new road that winds its way precipitously from Muscat – a journey of two-and-a-half hours, with four-wheel drive compulsory – you will glimpse fenced-off compounds, red flags and jeeps. The scenery is extraordinary. Jabal Akhdar translates as “the green mountain” but in truth there is not much greenery to see. The landscape is arid, harsh, almost cruel.

And then you come to the hotel which sits in quite simply the most astonishing position you could imagine, right on the edge of a vast canyon, 9,800ft above sea level. The building itself is low-rise, elongated, built of local stone and wood with a lovely swimming pool and a choice of 86 rooms, suites and private villas. Inside, the decoration is simple, almost monastic with long, vaulted corridors, low lighting and everywhere a sense of calm.

It may have something to do with the long drive from Muscat, the mountain air or the immensity of the landscape, but I was immediately struck by the spiritual quality of the Alila. This was somewhere to come to slow down. The hotel puts great emphasis on well-being. It has a fabulous spa. And the rucksack which I found waiting for me in my bedroom quietly hinted at the sort of activity on offer … they will arrange hikes that last three hours, or all day.

I did visit the little village of Al Ain and strolled among the thousands of roses tucked away on man-made terraces and grown for their oil. I walked along Wadi Bin Habib, surrounded by almond and peach trees and climbed up to a ruined village, truly ageless – it might have been there for centuries. But most of the time I lazed. I had a beautiful, spacious room and when the sun came down, throwing patterns of light and shadow across the rock face, my balcony was the only place to be.

^{The Serai pool at the Chedi Muscat (Alamy)}

One warning. When I visited, the Alila had not yet received its licence to sell alcohol. Nor was it permitted to light fires. Both are essential to its future. Guests need a reason to congregate on the terraces after dinner in the hotel’s single restaurant, and the evenings need the warmth and magic of a real flame. Make sure the hotel has them before you book.

From the Alila to the Chedi hotel in Muscat was downhill all the way – but only in the geographical sense. Opened 12 years ago, it is an Oman institution and a proud member of the Leading Hotels of the World.

It looks quite ordinary as you approach, with none of the in-your-face glitz and splendour of some Arabic hotels. The 158 rooms and villas are spread over 21 acres and everything is white and low-rise, separated by courtyards, ornamental pools, manicured lawns, palm trees and wild grass. If you’re feeling anti-social, you’ll easily find somewhere to be on your own. You can eat in nine different places, including a courtyard where a Lebanese buffet is served three times a week, and a fish restaurant on the beach. I’d go back simply for the sambal shrimp but all the food is exquisite: Indian, Arabic, Western, Asian, cooked in separate kitchens with chefs flown in from around the world.

It’s just as well there’s a choice of three gorgeous swimming pools, one of which – at 103m (nearly 340ft) – is the longest in the Middle East. The gym is so beautiful with its polished wooden floors, sofas, lacquered screens and state-of-the-art equipment that for a horrible moment I was tempted to use it. Instead, I had a massage – and although I’ve never been sure about the value of being squeezed and hammered by a young woman with iron knuckles, I loved it.

^{The hotel’s exterior (Alamy)}

Negatives? Well, the beach in front of the hotel is a touch scraggy – but then, in a way you don’t need it. You come to the Chedi to escape from the real world. There’s also the pricing which starts at expensive and rises to you-don’t-want-to-know. But with overnight flights and no jet-lag, you could come here for a long weekend and go back, say on Tuesday morning, poorer but happy.

So – I’m afraid I didn’t visit the Grand Mosque in Muscat, nor the opera house, the aquarium, the bustling fish market or the souk (which is not up to much). From the Alila, I should have toured the ancient capital of Nizwa, taking in the 14th-century Bahla fort and Jabreen castle. But I didn’t. I didn’t really do anything. And do you know what? I had a lovely time.