There is a rare kind of hotel that has the ability to truly relax you before you have even checked in.
When I was collected from the entrance of Ahãma by a kind attendant dressed in earthy toned linen and whisked away on a buggy through a pathway of cedar and ancient liquid amber trees, the air full of the scent of pine and warm earth, I knew immediately that this was one of those hotels.
By the time I reached reception, an open-air pavilion of timber, stone and cream linen overlooking a vast white sand bay, my to-do list had evaporated. Emails be damned. This was the first of many moments during my stay when I felt Ahãma, the new wellness resort curving around Günlüklü Bay on Turkey’s Turquoise Coast, was not playing by the usual rules of Mediterranean luxury.
Ten kilometres from the yachting glamour of Göcek and 20 minutes from Fethiye, the town increasingly tipped as the new Ibiza, with its collision of beach club culture and luxury hotels, Ahãma has landed in the part of Turkey the chic set have only just started talking about. Cementing its status as the most exciting new opening on this coast, Ahãma has just launched a five-night collaboration with Scorpios Bodrum, linking the two destinations by private yacht for guests who want to extend the trip further up the Turkish Riviera.
The first hotel from Turkish entrepreneur Burak Altay, designed by Istanbul’s Stüdyo AB Architecture, it takes its name from the ancient Lycian word for “beloved”. That’s not just branding. Altay describes himself as a steward of the land, and the resort’s commitment to the protected forest it sits within is everywhere, from loggerhead turtle nesting sites on the beach to rescued emus wandering the grounds. There are no single-use plastics, bath products are refillable, and the old-school keycard electricity slot, efficiently switching off the lights as you leave the room, has, gloriously, made a comeback.
I slept in a cabana hidden among sığla trees, designed to sit somewhere between Japanese wabi-sabi and Mediterranean coastal living, with raw timber, natural stone neutral linens and a vast window onto the forest. No television, because who needs the news when you’re a forest nomad? My evenings began with a “No Worries” cocktail, ordered via the resort’s WhatsApp concierge and enjoyed while sunk in a deep terrace chair listening to birdsong, with absolutely no worries, naturally.
It’s at the table, though, that Ahãma comes into its own. Breakfast is found at Glasshouse, a soaring dining room and terrace for excellent eggs, ceremonial cacao bowls and Turkish gözleme stuffed with feta and herbs. Dinner shifts to Mediterranean plates built from the resort’s own herb garden and the day’s catch. Ege sits right at the sea’s edge for lazy seafood lunches, while Mezkla, the beach club with a Mexican streak, does the best shrimp tacos and piña coladas on this stretch of coast. But it’s AY, the beachfront open-fire dining experience, that steals the show with a spread of mezzes, smoky dips and grilled flatbreads, followed by hand-cut kebabs and slow-cooked lamb blackened and sweetened over the coals.
This is a wellness destination, certainly, but one secure enough in its identity to let you set your own pace and serve you good drinks. Had my version of wellness been a sunbed, the sea and a cocktail, that would have been entirely encouraged. Instead I found myself tempted out most mornings by yoga in an open air pavilion at a very sociable 8.30am; I also tried sound healing, qi gong and a (short) stretch of paddleboarding. The sound healing temple, its walls carved with alcoves to hold and shape sound, was more transportive than my scepticism allowed for. I also gave in to the hammam, reimagined here within a single contemporary stone-walled room; two hours of soaping, scrubbing and an oil massage later, I emerged new, and a hammam convert.
What tied my stay together was how well the service is pitched, attentive without tipping into fatigue, helped by an ever-present WhatsApp line, which rescued me more than once when I got lost between my cabana and the emu sanctuary. By my last morning at Ahãma I found it entirely easy to believe the ancient Lycians once thought this coastline sacred. I flew home with sand still in my bag, my inbox still unread, and no real urge to check my phone, which might be the most luxurious thing of all.
From £430 per night; ahamaliving.com
