An Experience Like No Other: Amangiri @ Canyon Point, Utah
You’ve cycled all the major passes of Europe. You’ve had a coffee-grounds massage in Laos. You’ve had lunch at Le Grand Vefour in Paris. What’s next for the thrillseeker within you?
Why, a stay at an Aman of course.
We first heard about this super-luxurious collection of properties over 30 years ago. They originated in Asia—there are at least four in Bali—and today they’re a worldwide phenomenon. Small wonder. In Bhutan, for instance, you can be transported between five different Amans (via palanquin? magic carpet? Uber?) in a matter of a week. Or less.
For 45 years in the working world, we’ve stayed in our share of good places and bad, using points and miles, paying retail, as well as paying our dues in the working world.
And we’ve concluded life isn’t just about acquiring a Bentley or a Patek Philippe, it’s about collecting unique experiences. Be advised: no matter you’ve already collected, a stay at an Aman will be an experience like no other.
THE AMANGIRI. Our first trip to a U.S Aman property this September—Amangiri, on the border of Arizona and Utah—was delayed by a year due to COVID. So like many other experience seekers, we were extra eager to arrive after waiting so long.
The journey to Amangiri actually begins with a gorgeous, mesa-lined two-mile drive to the property, off Highway 89 in Utah. Once you finally arrive at the resort—its Brutalist style architecture stunning you from the get-go—you’re greeted by a welcoming committee that seems right out of “The White Lotus” TV series. There the resemblance ends.
At Amangiri, there is no smarmy general manger who will tell you that you didn’t book the Pineapple Suite when you absolutely know you did. Instead, the gracious Aman GM may chat with you about some shared travel experience, such as your week on the Amalfi Coast, or your private longboat ride up the Mekong River.
After you surrender your vehicle—you won’t see it or need it until you leave—you are guided to your room. Before you even begin wondering where your luggage has gotten to, you’re presented with the room key—not the crummy plastic key card that demagnetizes after one use—but a small feathered taaaasteful key bob. You step inside, and dayum! Your luggage has already arrived. Double dayum!
“When you want privacy,” the GM explains, “you place this outside your door,” handing you a cord that hooks on either side of the doorway. When you unhook the cord, you’ve basically signaled the cleaning staff that you’ve left and they’re free to make up the room. That’s when they’re also likely to leave a gift of some sort once they finish. Will it be a Navajo mobile tonight, a bag of exotic tea, or some local incense? The suspense builds.
THE POOL. No time to think too deeply about such matters because it is time for lunch. The dining room, part inside/part outside, overlooks the vast swimming pool, heated to 82 degrees daily, where no one actually swims but leisurely bathes in the perfectly climatized waters, sips cocktails, and wades around a gigantic facsimile of Horseshoe Bend, a nearby geological wonder.
CUISINE. At lunch—and at breakfast and dinner, for that matter—the Aman menu is designed to reflect the local culture. At Amangiri, that means Native American-inspired dishes. Besides the usual rack of lamb at dinner and three, count ‘em, three plant-based dishes, you can choose a four-course tasting menu composed of roasted elk and Navajo fry bread. The latter is a local specialty which is not dissimilar, but far superior, to the zeppole you can eat for a buck-and-a-quarter at the San Gennaro Festival in New York.
WORKING OUT. Feel like some exercise? There’s a fitness center on the property with equipment so technically advanced, even the most dedicated gym rat may be temporarily stumped. If you’re a yogi, you can hike up a steep path (wear your trail runners, please) to a rocky plateau where a yoga instructor will personally hone your Warrior Two to a fare-thee-well as the sun rises.
Want something more luxe than doing chair pose outdoors at 6 AM? A private helicopter and/or hot-air balloon can usher you to a plateau overlooking nearby Glen Canyon several miles away.
HIKING. Even on vacation, the most driven Type A’s of you may still need to get your ya-yas out. So while you can rent an eBike at Amangiri, maybe you’d prefer to hike one of the dozens of challenging trails inside the resort.
Just be aware that climbing a 600-foot-high, 12-percent-incline mountain trail lined with hoodoos is not recommended for the faint of heart or the solo hiker. By following wooden posts driven into the ground or small piles of rocks known as cairns, you will eventually make it back in one piece. Remember that if you start to panic, just breathe deeply and proceed extra slooowly. And don’t forget what Nietzsche said: “That which does not kill you makes you stronger.” Something tells me he never hiked Hoodoo Peak, however.
THE SPA. Perhaps you’d prefer a more leisurely stay at Amangiri. You’re in luck. There are beauty treatments and skilled massage practitioners galore. My masseur was built like a Bulgarian linebacker, and I am sure if he were so inclined, he could break me in two. Your message may end with a “sound bath,” whereby the chimes the masseur makes by tapping a series of bowls in your open-air massage tent are set to correspond to certain chakras in your body. You should know about this healing process beforehand, otherwise it may come off as a cross between a hearing test and a Steve Reich concert.
ENTERTAINMENT. Even the poshest resort will strive to entertain its guests. Amangiri tends to educate and elevate them, too. One night, you may attend a demonstration by a German-born artist who creates colorful canvases painted with debris from meteorites. Another afternoon, a Native-American tribe may perform traditional dances poolside. Still another night you can be shuttled to the more family-friendly Aman “glamping” resort down the road—Camp Sarika—and be entertained by a Native-American flutist as you gaze up at the stars. Those would be the real stars, not the Kardashians.
THE GUESTS. So, you may ask, are the guests anything like the white-privileged Silicon Valley family, or the Upper East Side Pineapple Suite guy, or the needy Jennifer Coolidge character in “White Lotus?” While we sensed a kind of breezy, age-45-plus, California vibe at Amangiri, you really don’t know for sure. Why?Nobody really talks to anybody else at Amangiri. People come here to get AWAY from other people. A mere acknowledgment of the guests at the next table is about as social as you will get. And if you do speak, use your inside voice even if you’re outdoors. Nobody argues at Amangiri. Or God forbid, shouts “waiter!”
On the subject of guest demographics, I feel obliged to warn parents that I saw no small children at Amangiri. Opt for Camp Sarika instead, the family-friendly Aman resort about a mile down the road and within the compound. I did however notice an unusual preponderance of other gay couples. Be advised: they won’t talk to you either.
THE COST. Several friends who have seen on social media that we are staying at Amangiri are curious about the room rate. For that, please visit the Website where prices are posted. Kindly be advised they change daily and seasonally and are somewhat lower for international properties.
IMHO, whatever you finally do pay for your stay, it’s insufficient for the exquisite experience that staying at an Aman affords you.
And aren’t unique experiences what life’s about anyway?