Where untamed luxury meets Omani soul. Some places feel like an escape, others feel like a revelation. Six Senses Zighy Bay is both.
By Misbaah Mansuri
Hidden between the dramatic crags of the Hajar Mountains and the endless expanse of the Gulf of Oman, this remote sanctuary is where the world slows, silence deepens, and time feels almost suspended. Arriving here is not just a transition from one destination to another—it is a journey into another world.
Setting the scene
The road to Zighy Bay is not a typical luxury resort arrival. It winds through raw, untouched terrain, the rugged cliffs of Musandam rising on one side, the sea stretching infinitely on the other. The journey itself sets the tone—one of isolation, of grandeur, of anticipation.
And then, suddenly, the resort reveals itself like an oasis. Thatched roofs peek through the landscape, almost camouflaged against the sand and stone. There is no grand, imposing structure announcing its presence—just a discreet village of low-slung villas, designed to feel as though they have always belonged here.
As I stepped out of the car, the air was thick with sea salt and sun-warmed earth. A warm Omani welcome awaited—cool towels, fresh dates, and a hibiscus-infused drink—a simple but thoughtful introduction to the Six Senses ethos: luxury, but effortless; indulgence, but always in tune with nature.
The room
The moment I stepped through the heavy wooden doors of my villa, I felt as though I had entered a secret, sun-drenched world, where the only sounds were the soft rustle of palm trees and the distant call of the sea.
The bed was framed in draped muslin, creating the illusion of a desert dreamscape, while the outdoor shower—set within a sun-drenched courtyard—invited the kind of bathing ritual that makes you forget time entirely.
But the centerpiece of the villa? The private infinity pool. Set within high cobblestone walls, it offered absolute privacy—a place where I could float under the Arabian sun, listening to nothing but the gentle rustle of palm leaves.
Built from locally sourced stone, with thatched palm roofs and high wooden ceilings, the villa exuded a rustic elegance that felt completely in tune with the raw beauty of the surrounding landscape. The design wasn’t about grandeur—it was about harmony, a seamless fusion of comfort and nature.
Inside, the space was expansive yet intimate, bathed in warm earth tones and dappled light. Handwoven Omani rugs softened the stone floors, while low, cushioned seating invited slow mornings and quiet afternoons. The bed—a grand, canopied affair draped in sheer muslin—felt like something out of an Arabian dream, its linens impossibly soft, cool against sun-kissed skin.
A writing desk, carved from dark wood, sat near the window, and though I had no plans to work, I found myself drawn to it—perhaps because it felt like the kind of place where stories are written, thoughts are collected, and time slows just enough to let inspiration in.
Then there was the private infinity pool—the kind of pool that ruins you for all others. Framed by sun-bleached stone walls for absolute privacy, it was a world of its own—a place to float for hours, eyes half-closed against the glare of the Omani sun, letting the warm water erase all sense of time.
On one side, a sunken lounge area with plush cushions, perfect for lazy afternoons with a book and a fresh lime mint cooler. On the other, a shaded daybed, swaying gently in the warm breeze, offering the perfect spot for an afternoon nap.
Even in the searing midday heat, the pool remained refreshingly cool, its water kissed by the shadows of towering date palms and swaying bougainvillea. It felt less like a man-made feature and more like a natural spring that had always existed in this desert landscape.
The bathroom was an experience in itself. An outdoor shower, nestled within a sunlit stone courtyard, meant that every rinse felt like a ritual—a moment to wash away salt and sand, to stand beneath the open sky, the scent of jasmine and warm earth all around. The deep soaking tub, carved from smooth stone, sat near an open archway, inviting long, candlelit baths as the desert breeze drifted in. The bath products, custom-made for Six Senses, carried the scent of orange blossom and frankincense, adding to the sense that this was more than just a place to freshen up—it was a space designed for slow, indulgent self-care.
What struck me most about the villa was how naturally it fit into its surroundings. It wasn’t sealed off from the landscape, nor did it try to dominate it. Instead, it breathed with it, letting in the smell of the sea, the whisper of the wind, the golden glow of the afternoon sun.
Mornings began with soft light filtering through wooden shutters, the sound of the waves in the distance. Afternoons were spent on the terrace, feet in the cool pool, watching the sun climb high over the Musandam fjords.At sunset, I sat on the villa’s cushioned majlis-style seating, watching the sky fade from gold to inky violet, the scent of frankincense lingering in the air. And nights? Nights were silent, still, and dark enough to see every star in the vast Arabian sky.
A taste of Zighy Bay
Dining at Zighy Bay is less about meals and more about experiences. At Spice Market, breakfast was a leisurely affair—fresh mango juice, flaky Omani bread, and a spread of house-made jams and creamy labneh. The kind of breakfast where you linger, sip slowly, and let the morning unfold in its own time.
Dinner at the Shua Shack was something else entirely. Under the open sky, with sand between my toes, I watched as a traditional Omani lamb was unearthed from an underground fire pit, its smoky aroma mingling with the salty night air. The slow-cooked meat, paired with saffron rice and roasted dates, was a feast as ancient as the land itself—deep, rich, elemental. Dessert was a simple yet decadent affair—date pudding drizzled with sticky toffee sauce, paired with a refreshing scoop of cardamom-infused ice cream that left behind a lingering warmth.
There is also the Sense on the Edge—the resort’s most breathtaking dining experience, perched atop a cliff with views stretching endlessly over the Gulf. Guests can savour grilled seafood kissed by an open flame, delicate Omani spiced prawns, and a dessert that tasted like rosewater and honey-soaked dreams.
Adventure and stillness
Zighy Bay exists in a beautiful contradiction—a place where the wild meets the serene. One morning, I found myself harnessed and ready to leap off a mountain—literally. Paragliding over Zighy Bay was both a rush of adrenaline and an overwhelming sense of peace. As I soared over the turquoise waters and untouched sand, I felt as if I were suspended between sky and sea, untethered from the world entirely.
And then, just hours later, I was in the spa, surrendering to the slow, hypnotic rhythm of a Six Senses Signature Massage. Warm oil, expert hands, and the distant sound of waves lulled me into a trance-like calm—a complete contrast to the morning’s thrill.
Later that evening, I found myself seated under the stars for Cinema Paradiso, watching a classic film unfold on an open-air screen, the soundtrack merging with the soft lap of waves.
Every experience here felt deliberate—a balance between motion and stillness, exhilaration and restoration.
On my last morning at Zighy Bay, I woke early, drawn to the water. The sea was silk-smooth and pale blue, reflecting the first light of dawn. I took one final swim, the salty water cool against my skin, the vastness of the bay stretching before me.
Breakfast was unhurried, the last sip of cardamom-laced coffee bittersweet. As I prepared to leave, I found myself lingering at the entrance, unwilling to break the spell.
Zighy Bay is not just a resort. It’s a feeling, a world, a story that stays with you long after you’ve left.
For those who seek something beyond luxury—something wild, something timeless, something that feels both exhilarating and deeply restful—this place is a rare and extraordinary find. Because some places you visit, and others? They become a part of you.
