BREATHE INTO BLISS
Musandam. It’s a name like no other I’ve heard of. Until very recently, it wasn’t a place I’d been to either. I’ve been in Oman for 27 years, but had never had an opportunity to travel to this exotic sounding region. To me, the name ‘Musandam’ conjures up
When I did get the chance to go there, though, it wasn’t one I was going to pass up in a hurry, not, at the very least, when Oman’s most prestigious resort asks you to drop by. Because just like Musandam, Six Senses Zighy Bay is also a world like no other. Located on the far reaches of the town of Dibba, which is split, by the way, between three governments – Oman, Sharjah and Fujairah – Six Senses Zighy Bay named after the secluded village it is situated next to, over the daunting mountains of Musandam, on the other side of a wadi. Getting there may have been tedious, but I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, it was so, so worth it.
Six Senses Zighy Bay have earned their place as the best resort in the Sultanate of Oman because of the superb hospitality they are now known for, and are surely the gold standard in luxury tourism.
It’d taken quite a while for me to assemble this most memorable of journeys together, but as the old adage goes, nothing that’s ever worth doing is ever easy. Nurhayati Mohamad – SSZB’s super-friendly and awesomely lovely manager of communications – had developed an excellent working relationship with me since I had returned to Muscat from my two years in Dubai, and having heard so much – all of it good, I promise you – I couldn’t help but go all aflutter when invited to check out this awesome property.
My bestie (who after this point will be named bestie) and I piled all of our stuff into our four-wheel drive – lent to us that morning by the good folks at Sixt Rent-a-Car, part of the Travel Point tourism network in Oman – and we set off on this epic 400 kilometre journey, with the sun at our backs and hope (and our GPS system) pointing the way forward.
As evening turned to night, we’d had to navigate the dangerous hair-pin bends and precipices of the mountain path into Zighy Bay, negotiating it at no more than 20kph, with no guardrail and only the occasional light to guide our way, but as we trundled into the welcoming gates of the resort, there was a certain intangible, excitable rush we felt at what we’d accomplished, and what lay ahead.