Dubai is home to a ridiculous indoor ski slope, the world’s most expensive cocktail and the very height of hubris, the Burj Tower: 2,260ft and still climbing. The diminutive emirate also likes to flex its coastline, building ludicrously shaped and immodestly named islands such as the Palm, the World and the Universe.
Things are different in next-door Abu Dhabi, which has a mere 18 times more land than Dubai, 200 genuine islands — and hardly any tourists. Now, Abu Dhabi, the wallflower of Gulf tourism, is about to bloom and blossom, with a push to attract visitors to what it claims will be sensitive and sustainable destinations.
First off the blocks is Sir Bani Yas, one of eight spots earmarked for tourist development as part of a group called “Desert Islands”. It’s the largest of Abu Dhabi’s islands (about the same size as Guernsey) and 105 miles due west of Abu Dhabi city.
Formerly the private retreat of the late Sheikh Zayed, the founder and first ruler of the United Arab Emirates, it promises unspoilt scenery, the Arabian Wildlife Reserve and a new boutique hotel.
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Could an oil-rich Gulf emirate really resist kicking out the wildlife and concreting over such prime real estate with megaresorts? If so, this would be restraint on a grand scale, and something I had to see, so I wangled a visit before the official opening.
Could an oil-rich Gulf emirate really resist kicking out the wildlife and concreting over such prime real estate with megaresorts? The hotel PR person explained that I couldn’t be flown out by seaplane as planned. “The plane has a technical fault,” he said, “and we’re waiting for some spares. It needs new brake pads.” It might just have been the best airline excuse that I have ever heard. A seaplane with brake pads? Are you sure?
It turns out that the little plane they use is amphibious, taking off from Abu Dhabi airport and landing in the sea by Sir Bani Yas. So, yes, brake pads would be a good idea. In the meantime, I’m driven to the island.
The city’s buildings fade away as fast as a film set, then it’s desert. Just over two hours of desert, followed by a 10-minute speedboat ride: after that I’m heading for the Desert Island Resort and Spa.
The island may be unspoilt, but it isn’t pristine. Good job, really — I’ve just driven through pristine, and pristine in this parched part of the world is barren and lifeless. Without the punctured hose pipes that siphon water to them, the rows of date palms, fig trees and frankincense bushes would die off in days, as would the wildlife.
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The lack of development is thanks to Sheikh Zayed, who indulged his passion for wildlife here for 30 years, planting millions of trees and nurturing many vulnerable species of animal. Several cute little sand gazelles hurtle alongside the vehicle on our way to the hotel, before darting down a row of shrubs. Their devil-may-care dimness is why the island’s speed limit for cars is 50kmh. The gazelles can go faster.
The sheikh built the hotel, too, as a guest palace. It’s the only building for miles around, on a spit of reclaimed land at the northern tip of the island, with the Gulf in front and a lagoon out back.
By the lobby, there’s a wonderfully romantic area with a trickling waterfall, Arabian-style furniture and a tented roof. The lobby itself is packed to the rafters with Arabian, African and Asian artefacts, and the rafters themselves are also intricately carved works of art. Thankfully, there isn’t a gold palm tree or a glass lift in sight, and with only 64 rooms spread over three floors, a minute or two after check-in I was lounging on my balcony.
I gazed through the harem-style, wood-carved frontage, out over the Gulf. A couple of oil tankers shimmered slowly out to sea, and in the foreground was a curvaceous pool in lushly landscaped gardens, with not a log flume or pirate-galleon gimmick to be seen.
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The hotel is run by the Anantara group, which has several boutique hotels in Thailand. The staff are extremely attentive and there is also a swanky Thai-staffed spa. Disappointingly, the Emiratis have outsourced their hospitality, and although I met workers from Ireland, South Africa, Uzbekistan, Palestine and other places, of the 150 staff, none is a local. I’d have also liked a library with some wildlife books, a brochure on the history of the island or a talk from a park ranger.
Still, in contrast to most Gulf hotels, where you can either swim or shop, the dilemma here is which activity to try first. There is snorkelling, mountain-biking, kayaking, guided walking and game drives, and they are all included in the price. I opted for an 11-mile bike ride to the rugged salt-domed centre of the island, and on a kayaking trip, paddled lazily by the mangroves: but I needed my megafauna fix.
I didn’t expect herds of wildebeest sweeping majestically across the plains on my “game drive”, but when we reached our first stop, my excited clamber aboard the open-sided Land Cruiser suddenly felt embarrassing. We were in a llama pen. I was given pellets to feed them with, and Nycki, our affable Australian guide, explained that the llamas used to belong to the sheikh. No matter if they were Charles Darwin’s constant companions, I was somewhat deflated.
Further into the island, past more sand gazelles, we came upon the oryx. The magnificent beast is no longer found in the wild and was once on the verge of extinction — here there are 400. Looking at their gracefully curved horns, white bodies, delicate black legs and smudged faces, I almost forgot that we were in an enclosure with bundles of hay and running sprinklers. It was more safari park than national park.
True, the enclosures were very large, the gazelle enjoyed the run of the island, and we saw scimitar-horned oryx, blackbuck, barbary sheep, gemsbok and eland, but it’s not what I had expected.
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At sunset, we ended up near to the old sheikh’s palace and, just as he must have done, watched the giraffes’ silhouettes sharpen against the dipping sun. Seeing a giraffe sit down is like watching a wedding marquee collapse. I watched one sit and strain its neck to eat the leaves of a shrub, for there were no trees in the enclosure.
A reserve where the animals are in pens, a treeless giraffe enclosure, and no locals to be seen? It got me thinking: so I paid an unexpected visit to Lars Nielsen, the Desert Islands’ marketing manager, on my way to the airport.
He explained that fences were being added to create two vast enclosures (covering two-thirds of the island), one for Arabian animals and the other for the African species, to make up the Arabian Wildlife Reserve. Food poles for the giraffes were in hand, and the project was funding an academy to create local jobs for Emiratis living on a neighbouring island.
I drove to the airport wishing I could have spent more time on Sir Bani Yas, and with my mind at rest.
That was mid-November last year. I’ve just phoned to find that things have improved . . . ish. The fences are nearly finished, though the animals won’t be free-roaming for another three months; the seaplane started flying again last week; and I’ve been assured that by the time you get out there, those poor giraffes will have been served their dinner at the correct altitude.
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Richard Green travelled as a guest of Etihad and Desert Islands
Travel details: Destinology (destinology.co.uk) has three nights, B&B, at Desert Islands Resort & Spa (desertislands.anantara.com) from £799pp, including flights from Heathrow to Abu Dhabi with Etihad, car and boat transfers, and all activities. Or try Tropical Locations (0845 277 3310, tropical-locations.com).
For a stopover package, the hotel has a three-night B&B deal for £254pp, based on two people sharing, bookable direct with the resort. Fly from Heathrow to Abu Dhabi with Etihad (0870 241 7121, www.etihadairways.com) or British Airways (0844 493 0787, ba.com); from £267. For more information on Desert Islands, go to desertislands.com.