ABU Dhabi sounds like a heady jum-ble of car, construction and human.In the daytime, the air is thick withnoise as it is thick with the pervad-

ing haze of dust blown in from the sand-lands to the south and thrown up by thenever-ending construction. It softens theotherwise relentless sunshine, render-ing everything (including the sky) asedate pastel shade.In summer, one must wade

through air sodden with 100 percent humidity, scuttling fromplace to air-conditioned place orcollapsing (with soaked t-shirt)into the back of a taxi. The idealtime to visit is somewherebetween November and March,when temperatures drop to a nippy20°C and a cool breeze can be foundsnaking through the backstreets.Then one can explore the city in both its

guises, day and night. Ramble on the dunesof the artificial Lulu Island opposite AbuDhabi’s 39-year-old skyline, or along itsnewly landscaped beach road, theCorniche, with its regimented leisure facili-ties, patchy grass and dreamy seasidestrollers. Then at night, head indoors to oneof the gargantuan shopping centres, gleam-ing hubs for the Armani-clad local youth, orsplay out on the plastic chairs of a pave-ment shisha café while dubbed Turkishsoaps play out on a massive projection TV.At least, once you could. The laws have

the strange habit of rearranging themselvesunannounced. Many of the seedier shishajoints have been ordered to move indoors,cooping up noisy young men, their mobilesand their perfumed smoke in clandestinenooks. Even street food is a rarity nowadays,

with the bustling Lebanese restaurantsserving shawrma (chicken, chips and pick-les wrapped in pita bread -- kebab of thegods) and falafel losing their chaotic out-door serveries to the very Western spectreof health and safety.It’s this modernisation in law, architec-

ture and indeed in vision that’s erodedsome of the city’s frontier charm. Beachesare kept free of lecherous labourers andadvertising has cropped up on every lamp-post and bus stop in the city. Glorious,crumbling 70s eyesores covered in eerietiling and decades of grime have given wayto glistening skyscrapers in metallic pinksand purples (pastel, of course). The work-ers who built them can be found star-ing from the clapped-out schoolbuses that take them to and fromthe remote labour camps they’vebeen confined to.

But with this renewal comesthe subtle purr of refinement, thesound of a young city getting togrips with its own potential. AbuDhabi is beginning to assert agreater presence on the world stagethan its glitzy neighbour next door. New Dubai rose out of the desert in

a few short years, leaving in its wake alegacy of traffic jams, property scandalsand empty space. Abu Dhabi chose to wait.To learn from Dubai’s mistakes, and tospend time crafting a master plan that isonly just coming to fruition.

KING OF HOTELS:THE EMIRATES PALACE

THE city is dotted with swanky hotels,fully booked with international holi-daymakers and businessmen (we are

assured). Indeed, hotels have been a fixtureof expatriate life in the Emirates fordecades, perhaps because of their near-monopoly on the provision of alcohol. It’s alifestyle where five-star luxury becomes

Rhodri Karim, an Abu Dhabinative, charts the city’s rise andenjoys a symbol of its opulence

Above: Abu Dhabi’smagnificent, sterileskyline. Below: theEmirates Palace.

Lifestyle | Travel

Intelligent luxuryunder a hot blue sky

CONTINUE ON PAGE 20

SUMOSANTHE MAYFAIR INSIDER’SFAVOURITE SUSHI PLACEIN TOMORROW’S LIFESTYLE

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casual, where everyone is a member of abeach club and a regular salary can buyyou drinks at the Hilton, dinner at theSheraton, and the occasional champagnebrunch. So far, so colonial. It would take awhole lot of hotel to impress this jadedpopulace.So, at the head of the island, far from the

grime and bustle of the centrum, liesalmost a square kilometre of well-tendedverdancy. Sat in the middle of it like KublaKhan’s wedding cake is the astoundingEmirates Palace resort. It has no precedentin the chaos of the city, instead choosing tosprawl along the edge of the Gulf.Groundsmen pray towards Mecca in themidday sun, while behind them a mono-lith in pink granite commands a view of itsown private highway approach, the cityproper and the sea.Inside, the blistering intensity of day-

light gives way to muted shades of gold.The lighting is as in a dream: gentle, ubiq-uitous and without source. TessellatingIslamic motifs work their way into thedetailing, every surface either marble orfine fabric. This is certainly the EmiratesPalace, a far cry from the pleasant interna-tional interiors of the inner city hotels. Iwould even say the decor was understatedif the ceiling wasn’t covered in goldleaf.After a straightforward check-in, I’m

assigned a guide and we set off towards theroom. Even the staff are exquisitely clad ingold and black. It’s a long walk, past court-yards and gunsmiths, salons and musi-cians, down a spiral staircase with views ofthe turquoise Gulf, along corridors dottedwith tiled fountains and informationscreens. We arrive at the room, and after alengthy induction I’m left to explore.The room itself is large and airy, contin-

uing the themes of gold, fabric and marble.There are plenty of places to lounge, fromthe generous king-size bed to the softottomans and chaise-longue. The balconyopens onto courtyards studded with foun-tains and walls of bougainvillea, andbeyond that the beach, and then the sea.The climate is exquisitely controlled, and a52-inch TV dominates the wall opposite thebed, backed by hardwood panels. A singleflaky touch-screen remote controls theroom’s electronics. Needless to say, thebathroom is palatial.Going out for a stroll, I come across a

pristine set of pools, jacuzzis and foun-tains, all surrounded by springy deckchairsdraped with fresh towels. I’ve foolishly neg-

lected to bring my speedos along, but as Imake my way across the kilometre ofbeach reserved for the hotel’s guests (I meetjust two others) I make good on an impulseto roll up my jeans and splash into thewarm turquoise surf. It’s only then that Inotice the gentle clunking of cranes andconstruction wafting in from across thegulf.

NOW FOR DINNER: HAKKASAN

LATER on, I pick up my dinner guestand we head through the palace corri-dors until, tucked into an alcove

between a tailor and the gift shop, we findthe royal blue doors of Hakkasan. This isthe latest outpost of the Michelin-starredhaute Chinese, having made a suc-cessful foray into the Americanmarket with a Miami branchlast year. It comes from themind (and the rumblinggut) of Alan Yau, alongwith the vacuous, deli-cious and ubiquitousWagamama.Hakkasan couldn’t

be more different. Itsrich electric blues andpurples, dark hardwoodand -- in a decidedly localtouch -- marble cutouts ofIslamic motifs render it theperfect place to plan a billion-dollar heist. It’s monolithic, andimposing. We step up to the ludicrouslywell-stocked bar for a few cocktails beforeour meal.Rippling projections dance slowly over a

slate back wall, while the in-house DJ layson some rather intense beats that wouldn’tfeel out of place at the Buddha Bar. Next tous, a couple of sharply dressed individualssmoke outrageously cheap cigarettes...indoors!Deciding to try a couple of signature

cocktails, she orders a Hakka and I aChinese Mule. These are blended with sake(and other spirits), and are delicious. TheHakka is chock full of passion fruit pipsand coconut cream, while my Mule bristleswith ginger and coriander.After ordering more outlandish drinks –

the exceptionally named Bitter Fortune,featuring a hunk of fresh grapefruit, and aKumquat Mojito -- we head to the tablewith what remains of them. The diningroom is criss-crossed with wooden lattices,

allowing the steady hum of our fellow din-ers’ conversation through. Each table isgently spot-lit, and the staff vanish into thenetherzones between tables.The crispy duck salad is astound-

ing, with vibrant pomelo, pome-granate and shallot playingwell off the sumptuous nut-meg overtones of the duck(this same dish excels inLondon). Our fried soft-shell crab is tender, hid-den with a few curryleaves in a heap of deli-cious chilli moon-dust.The fried dim sum aresimple, well-executedand full of flavour, myonly criticism beingreserved for the venisonpuff, which dims the qualityof the meat with lashings ofhoney.The mains arrive, and here Hakkasan

becomes more of a dream Chinese restau-rant than a whizz-bang fusion eatery. It isexpertly cooked, hearty and (for the mostpart) flavoured to perfection. The stir-fryblack pepper rib-eye beef more than livesup to its cut, the sauce rich and liberallyapplied. The gai lan fried in garlic and themorning glory in bean curd and gingersauce provide crunchy and slurpy veg-etable counterparts (respectively).The only disappointment is the ham-

mour (a local white fish) in black beansauce, which while perfectly cooked plopsthe usually vibrant meat in a dull andstodgy sauce full of distracting mush-rooms. A bowl each of fluffy steamed jas-mine rice rounds the course off.The DJ seems to sense our engorgement,

and lays on a brace of the most stylish cos-mic disco he can dig out. It gels perfectlywith our delicate and delicious deserts, alight and natural pomelo and mango con-sommé, and a trio of fresh sorbets. Afterthe heady rush of flavour that preceded it,dessert is a relaxing and refreshing affair.We risk one more set of cocktails, a sooth-ing Lychee martini each, before I pack offmy guest in a taxi and retire to the room.

A TASTE OF THE EMIRATES

IN the low light, and overwhelmed bythe hospitality, I fall asleep quickly inthe large, cool bed and wake up just in

time for breakfast. I wind my way throughthe palace corridors (it really is quite a longway) to the Vendome brasserie, a slightlygarish and ornate hotel restaurant. Here agrand spread is laid out, of pastries, cereals,fruits, meats, eggs and preserves.Afterwards, while nibbling – poolside –

at a stick of melon, I contemplate this drystate. The Abu Dhabi branches of theLouvre and the Guggenheim have alreadyhad their foundations laid. I really do hope

it all succeeds, but it begs the ques-tion: what part do the

Emirati artists, archi-tects and visionariesplay in all this?

In the tangentialhope of findingsome answers, Iwangle an audiencewith the chef atMezlai, theEmirates Palace’straditional Emiratirestaurant. Despitehaving lived in Abu

Dhabi for the best part oftwo decades, I’d never been

offered Emirati food (evenwhen eating with my Emirati

friends). It’s billed as the first Emiratirestaurant in the UAE, and it certainlylooks the part, its airy lounges opening outonto the beach.Chef Ali, star of his own cooking show

on a national station, explains (in brokenEnglish) how Emirati food reflects the orig-inally nomadic nature of the people. Itdraws on meals common throughout theArab world, adapting them to the meatsand distinctive spices indigenous to theregion. There are no vegetables in Emiraticooking, he assures me, only dates andmeat. Knowing this, I had to try it. We head to the kitchen, where I get a

forkful of some delicious slow-roastedlamb encrusted with local herbs, full ofzing and earth. Apparently Kraft cheese is astaple food for the Emiratis, and I try a thinpancake stuffed with it, drizzled with anorange and saffron sauce. Then in savourymode, khobz rigag, thin pita bread sand-wiching Kraft, egg and a blend of herbscalled zattar. To finish, a palate-cleansingglass of aseeda, a curious dessert of car-damom and saffron. It’s fantastic, originaland above all unique.On checking out, the golden hum of the

lobby is disrupted by a procession of diplo-mats. The Emirates Palace is a statelyvenue, for sure, but it’s also one that offerscomfort and a brace of sumptuous experi-ences, from eating at a world-class Chineseto lounging about on a kilometre-longbeach. Perhaps the sea views aren’t quite asstunning as Egypt’s, or the dining as fault-less as London’s. But I would say it offersluxury at its most natural. Rooms from £330per night incl breakfast. ITC Classics (www.itcclas-sics.co.uk) offers 5 nights at Emirates Palace from£989pp. Includes daily half board, flights withEtihad from Heathrow and private transfers.Book by 15 March 2011 and save £545 per person.Valid for travel until 28th December 2011.

Dukan Diet’s idyllLet us hope the troubles in Tunisia are oversoon. The year’s must-do diet has launcheda residential programme in Tunisia at theidyllic Residence Tunis. The three-part planwill see you drop pounds through reducingcarbohydrate and fat, gorging on 28 dif-ferent vegetables and eventually, resumingyour normal diet. One for later this year,hopefully. From £2,370 for programmeresidents, excluding flights. 01244 202000; www.seasons.co.uk.

TRAVEL NOTES | by Zoe Strimpel

Five-star luxury is thenorm, andeveryone is amember of abeach club. Itwould take alot to impressthis jadedpopulace

Lifestyle | Travel20 CITYA.M. 17 JANUARY 2011

Ultimate facial escapeIf you feel your skin needs a break after astressful or indulgent Christmas nothingwill do the trick more effectively than the“Better than Botox” ultimate facial bootcamp package at the super-luxe COMOShambhala at Parrot Cay in the Caribbean.The seven-day programme includes GuinotHydradermie Lift treatments, massagesaplenty, daily yoga and pilates, and specialmeals. From $787 per night. +1 649 9467788, res@parrotcay.como.bz.

Mexican haven opensNestled in the mountains north of MexicoCity in a town founded in 1542 by aFranciscan monk sits the new super elegantboutique Rosewood San Miguel de Allende.With just 67 rooms, five restaurants, animpressive spa and the option to go hikingand riding, the resort is a delicious mixtureof fine dining, luxury, intimacy and activity.Colonial Rooms start at £189 includingbreakfast, a 25 per cent discount on spatreatments and valet parking.

...and the hotel that says it allCONTINUED FROM PAGE 19 Above: the Emirates

Palace at night andone of the emirate’sarteries. Right, Mezlai,the hotel’s traditional Emiratirestaurant.