We like to hotel-hop to keep our inner hotelier gremlins happy and fed. A caveat: they do love a property audit, so whenever these recollections meander into an operational review, know that those parts were when the gremlins seized the keyboard.
The drive to our next stay takes us along the coast and up through the Al Hajar mountains.
Of the three distinct properties within Barr Al Jissah, Al Husn is the showpiece: an adults-only enclave set apart from bustling Al Bandar and the family-friendly lazy river and water slides of Al Waha.
The illuminated dome that rises high above Al Husn’s lobby changes hues throughout the day. When we arrive it is a radiant gold, gleaming benevolently upon the stylized birds that are captured forever in elegant stride through a placid tiled pool. The gremlins and I would dearly love to know if these are cranes, herons or egrets, and if the pool is meant to represent the aflaj.
The unmistakable scent of frankincense wafts into the air from a bronze burner. Large silver khanjars are framed on the marble walls. Beyond lies a stately courtyard with palm trees grouped along reflecting pools; the symmetry leads the eye to the bright blue waters of the Sea of Oman, precisely framed through a multifoil arch that blossoms like the roses we missed on Jebel Akhdar.
We are presented with familiar touchpoints: freshly brewed coffee, poured from a pristine dallah into a white finjan, and plump dates in a silver box. The check-in itself is less a process than a ritual of receiving the castle’s newest guests.
The gremlins approve of our classically palatial guestroom: carved lattice screens, tasseled lamps and striped cushions, a wide terrace. There are fruit and dates on the table, along with a signed welcome card. The amenities include a pair of binoculars for the possibility of spotting a dolphin pod.
Stays at Al Husn also come with a list of daily benefits: a replenished minibar, afternoon tea, and cocktails.
We enjoy our genteel tea time, and we do not skip our pre-prandial cocktail hour. We chat with other well turned out guests lounging in the courtyard while the team moves efficiently through the dusky light, ensuring every table is attended to and that flutes of champagne and plates of canapés are unobtrusively refilled. On one of the evenings, a violinist in a scarlet frock performs My Heart Will Go On, and indeed, the moment seems very much like being on the first-class deck of the Titanic.
Pre-iceberg, naturally.
***
Elsewhere, the Al Husn team continues to impress, and the gremlins note all of the synchronized efforts with collegial approval; it is no mean feat to run consistent service throughout a peak-occupancy week.
Hotel mornings can be notoriously difficult to get right. Al Husn has a polished cold and continental selection laid out, and we are invited to choose made-to-order hot items from a menu whose signature specials rotate daily. The gremlins are delighted to have pillowy pita bread, kibbeh and tahina alongside Eggs Royale.
We silently update our list of favorite hotel breakfasts.
During the day, the beach team lays our chosen sun loungers with towels and thoughtfully leaves an ice-filled cooler with bottled beverages and Evian facial spray.
Beach bar menus can sometimes be desultory; here, the souvlaki is excellent, as is the rosy Nizwa cocktail. At another seaside bar, the mixologists shake up potent nightcaps and the affable barman sends over a quartet of petite pours.
I have been meaning to try Michelin-starred Chef Rohit Ghai’s food, and so on our last evening we find ourselves seated outdoors at Aangan, having ordered both seasonal set menus. The gremlins prefer sharing plates.
Portions are carefully plated, regionally adventurous: shakarkandi kebabs with tangy Rajasthani chutney; Goan-Portuguese fish cafreal with crispy potato salli and smoked tomato garlic; and an aromatic prawn moilee in coconut curry with Amritsari lentils and flaky onion kulcha. The candlelit dinner ends with a fragrant rose shrikhand topped with petals and berries, served on a golden plate.
***
Our hosts gently suggest we should go up the coast to the Ritz-Carlton for the afternoon, or take a boat out for a swim, but the gremlins are perfectly happy to remain cocooned within Al Husn.
We do, however, work up the energy to explore the rest of the pink-walled fort. We wander into the library and notice a sumptuous gold and crimson coffee table book marking the group’s 50th anniversary. Published by Assouline, naturally.
The grounds also contain a frankincense garden, and a private car collection. I am not a motoring enthusiast, but I like to read the labels on these polished beasts, and they include: a 1952 Royal Daimler that belonged to a Saudi prince. A 1953 Land Rover Series 1. There’s a Dodge Charger with an ebony stripe, and a Ford Model T from 1925.
I’m unable to find a suitable time slot at the Luban Spa so I emerge from the fort, make my way to the garden villas and hydrotherapy pools of CHI, The Spa, between Al Waha and Al Bandar, and sign up for a rose and frankincense body wrap. A soft, lush embrace from the Omani earth, embodied.
There should be a Waldorf Astoria here, we say. It is a languid thought in a languid conversation on a languid day, but two years later, on January 1, 2026, Hilton took over the management of the Barr Al Jissah complex and announced that Al Husn would be rebranded into Waldorf Astoria following a planned refurbishment.
It seems the beady-eyed gremlins did read the tea leaves correctly.
It’s In Our Nature
The most significant thing that we are grateful for, though, is the warm embrace of longtime friends at Al Husn. Once they were my colleagues in another life, on the shores of another sea. Now they carve out time in their workweek for coffee and a smoky barbecue dinner; a site inspection; and a proper Shang gang farewell.
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