The Travel Critic

Ah, Emirates Palace Mandarin Oriental. Well, if you’ve ever wondered how the other half live, allow me to spoil the surprise: they live in palaces. Real ones. Not those “we slapped a few chandeliers up and called it a palace” palaces, but the sort where you half expect a sultan to wander past, polishing a Fabergé egg while dictating the weekend’s itinerary.

This isn’t my first rodeo with the Mandarin Oriental brand, but it’s certainly the one that had me thinking, “Right, this is what they meant when they said ‘go big or go home.’” My first brush with the chain was in Jakarta, where we signed up for their loyalty program – a not-so-subtle call to declare yourself a ‘fan’ of the brand. A tad corny, sure, but it works. And after experiencing the Abu Dhabi iteration, I can confirm: I am, indeed, a fan. This place is absurdly fabulous.

Now, let’s get into the service. It’s beyond good. It’s borderline supernatural. You can almost hear the whispers: “I hear they’ll do anything for you.” I mean, we’re talking iced towels that appear out of thin air, the occasional ice lolly by the pool (because what’s luxury without the odd frozen treat?), and cans of water lovingly stuffed into bespoke cool bags. You begin to think they’d pedal the bike for you if you even hinted at needing exercise.

And as for WhatsApp, can we just make this the new global standard for all hotel communication? It’s seamless. You need something? You send a message. You need a restaurant booking, or to find the elusive poolside sunbed? A message. No more awkward phone calls where you fumble with the room’s bizarrely outdated telephone. It’s 2024, people. Keep up.

Now, I’m more of a modern decor man myself – minimalism, clean lines, and that sort of thing. But the rooms here manage to strike the perfect balance between the opulence you expect in a palace and the conveniences of the 21st century. First off, there are sockets. And not just one or two strategically placed to ensure maximum frustration. No, here you’ve got more ports than an international airport – old USBs, USB-C, possibly a USB-Y by the time this review goes live. And the genius move? All of it is hidden away in a little drawer by your bed, because God forbid we let our charging cables ruin the aesthetic. It’s thoughtful. It’s practical. It’s also rare to find a hotel that hasn’t decided plug sockets are too ‘yesterday.’

Food? You’ll be fed, and then some. The offerings are broad, and while not every dish will have you weeping with joy, you’ll find more than enough to keep you satisfied. Want a pizza in a plush setting? Done. Looking for Michelin stars? There are two restaurants ready to satisfy your inner snob. It’s like that greatest hits album where a few tracks don’t hit, but the standouts are pure gold.

Now, activities? Oh, they’ve got you covered. Everything from canoes to camels, Pilates to pottery. There’s even a kids’ club, the somewhat regally named Kids Palace, where you can send the little ones when they’ve had enough of swimming pools and cultural enrichment. You will not be bored. And if you are, that’s on you.

So, what’s the catch? Well, it’s big. Palatial, even. You’ll need a map and perhaps a Sherpa to navigate your way around. If you’re someone who gets winded walking from the lobby to your room, this might not be your jam. But fret not – they’ve got buggies to ferry you about, just in case your sandals aren’t cut out for the vast marble expanses.

To sum up, yes, it costs a pretty penny. But does it deliver? Absolutely. You’ll leave feeling a bit like royalty, and isn’t that what holidays are all about?