It is described simply as an “activity wall” — both on the website and by the friendly staff, who act as if you are about to take a gentle stroll to the local souk. What it actually is — as I discovered once I was already strapped into a harness and clipped to a metal wire 10 storeys up — is a nerve-shredding 200-metre climbing route running along the side of the fabled Green Mountain, the highest point in Oman. It also features a zip line, plus a terrifyingly wobbly cable bridge suspended high above the valley.
With trembling legs, I tentatively — and with the occasional cry of “seriously, though, is this nearly over” — worked my way around the trail.
The fear was very real, but the views could have been AI-generated. As the golden hour sunlight began to fade, our exceedingly patient guide pointed to a village cascading down a slope in the distance, with terraced ledges growing damask roses, olives and pomegranates. “That’s where I grew up and still live.”
Later, back in the safety of the Anantara Al Jabal Al Akhdar resort, nursing a negroni on my balcony and vibrating with equal parts adrenaline and relief at having survived, I watched the sun sink behind the Al Hajar mountains and the lights in the villages begin to twinkle. All was silent, apart from the bleats of a few grazing goats — and then the call to prayer began, bouncing around the dusky canyon below. It was enchanting.
You may have seen Anantara Al Jabal Al Akhdar (rooms start from £300 a night, anantara.com) on the BBC’s Amazing Hotels a few series ago. Said to be the highest five-star resort in the Middle East, guests here tend to be of a more adventurous persuasion. Ideally positioned for hiking, climbing, mountain biking and stargazing — and with temperatures about 15 degrees cooler than the rest of Oman — there is much to do year-round in this previously inaccessible region. You’ll still need a four-wheel drive to handle the ascent to 2,000 metres above sea level, however.
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There is also ample opportunity for downtime by the infinity pool perched magnificently on the cliff edge and in the excellent spa, where therapists will pummel and knead you into a state of happy delirium. Three on-site restaurants do a stellar job of fuelling the mostly European guests (we overheard lots of German). Breakfast, in particular, is immense. Tables are laden with fresh juices, ginger shots and water infused with herbs from the garden; try eggs benedict with goat’s meat or douse fluffy waffles with local honey direct from the comb. Indian, Middle Eastern, Western and Southeast Asian cuisines are all taken care of.
Oman has earned itself a legion of fans over the past 20 years and the number is growing, with a record 3.9 million visiting in 2025. From rugged mountains and the ancient fort city of Nizwa in the north to camping in the vast Wahiba Sands and beach-hopping around lush Salalah in the south, it is the dream winter sun holiday. The flight there is direct and only seven hours — compared with other southern hemisphere destinations, it’s a relative doddle.
Short on time (this was a five-night trip), we headed from Al Jabal Al Akhdar to the capital Muscat and the new Mandarin Oriental (rooms start from from £500 a night, mandarinoriental.com). Within walking distance of the Royal Opera House and a 15-minute drive to the immaculate Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque in one direction and to the labyrinthine Muttrah Souq in the other, it sits on a public beach and is all the more atmospheric for it. It was a joy to watch families picnic on the sand and locals jog along the promenade from our sun loungers. A sunset horse ride was an even better way to take in the broad sweep of coastline.
Muscat has none of the high-rise gaudiness of Dubai; it is authentic and serene. As such, it attracts a refined type of guest. I’m pleased to report we did not spot a single influencer during our stay. Not by the pool, where guests read books in cabanas and “pressed here” for cocktails and poke bowls, not in the hotel’s Italian restaurant Essenza, where they twisted delicious lobster tagliatelle on forks, nor in the spa’s ornate hammam. Back on the beachfront, local women waved and said hello as we took in one final sunset.
Oman, I’m a fully signed-up member of the fan club.
