Wish magazine, Six Senses Shaharut

STORY CARLI PHILIPS

AMIT GERON

A timeless landscape in Israel’s remote Negev region is home to the country’s first luxury, sustainable desert resort

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Leaving the manic, congested chaos of Tel Aviv’s high-tech world, nightclubs and beach bars to drive anywhere outside the city limits requires some adjustment. And given the country’s size (it can be driven top to toe in an about six hours), nothing is ever far away. So by the time I’ve looked up from Waze – the real-time driving app locals swear by – dense apartment living has been replaced by Bedouins, craters and warnings to “watch out for camels”.

While the three-and-a-half-hour car ride south to the hyped-up new Six Senses Shaharut resort in Israel’s Negev Desert is anticipatory, it’s long. And because everyone here tells time by the traffic, punctuality is always variable (in this case, a helicopter transfer can speed things up). An hour from Tel Aviv is the city of Be’er Sheva which, remarkably, has a close connection to Australia dating from 1917, when Australian forces helped liberate the fortified town from the Turks in a surprise battle. We’re weaving through ancient landscapes, when out of nowhere the blinding white mirrors of the Ashalim thermos-solar power plant, the largest renewable energy project in the country, come into view. Using advanced solar field technology, the facility generates enough clean energy to supply 120,000 homes. Right here, where biblical ghosts hover, it’s a startling juxtaposition.

Onwards, and spotting the Mitzpe Ramon and the Ramon Crater – a mammoth erosion crater spanning 40km – feels like peering into an endless Jurassic Park, a millennia-old natural phenomenon that reaches deep into the belly of the earth. It’s just before things become really dusty and the roads are slowly framed by hulking, jagged rocks capped by black basalt. The final pit stop is Pundak Neot Semadar, a roadside café-restaurant that sells nectars, dairy and dates made by the nearby agricultural kibbutz run by a small, alternative community of just under 200 people. Don’t be fooled by the rusticity – they run a successful processing plant, winery and art centre, and are pioneers in organic desert farming and ecological architecture.

The small sign pointing to Six Senses might as well be subtitled “the road to nowhere”. It’s another 10 minutes before we see another soul, and even then there’s no sudden dropping of jaws in the way that may be induced by other hotels in the group’s luxury portfolio. Mostly, the view is of hunkered-down rooftops followed by a slow reveal: a date orchard, organic garden, bohemian check-in area and camel farm. It’s not until we hop on a pistachio-green electric Hummer golf buggy that the full breadth of this ultra-remote property hits. Ironically, it’s the expanse of nothingness that makes Shaharut so astonishing. Scattered over the resort’s hills are 60 suites and villas, each structure stitched into the land and buried halfway to allow for uninterrupted vistas.

When hotel owner Ronny Douek bought this plot of land more than a decade ago, the Israeli businessman, philanthropist and social entrepreneur – who rarely does interviews – was determined not to build something that would encroach on the landscape. “When I first stood on that hill overlooking the desert, I said to myself ‘God has made such a magnificent creation, what could I do that wouldn’t spoil it?’ I wanted to maintain that infinite feeling, so in order to do that everything needed to be integrated into the topography.”

Douek, who undertook compulsory army training in the Negev, knew the region intimately and had his own ideas about what would work well.

He visited desert resorts in India, Marrakesh and Utah for inspiration, and for years consulted with major architecture firms from all over the world. Ultimately, though, he came full circle and selected Israeli firm Plesner Architects. “Preserving the spirit of the place was the primary design principle for this resort,” says Partner of Plesner Architects, Daniela Plesner. “The objective was to maintain the topographical contours of the mountains so that guests could experience unobstructed views. Maintaining a balance in all the built areas, between embedding the buildings into the ground and exposing them to the landscape, air and space, is the heart of the project for us.”

Walls were built low, descending rather than rising up, to merge with the site. “We wanted the stones, the patterns, the textures and the colours to be omnipresent, resulting in architecture that is woven in with the natural elements,” says Plesner. Key to the concept was the modern W I S H O C TO B E R 2 0 2 2 91

interpretation of the buildings of the Nabataeans, a nomadic tribe that guarded the Incense Route, ruins of which can be found across the Negev.

“We developed an architectural language inspired by these ancient structures. The idea was to give the sense that these new buildings had existed here for centuries.” Douek says it was this, combined with a commitment to a raft of eco-principles, including the recycling of all quarried materials and timber, that won the Six Senses team over. “After we presented to the team in New York, Neil Jacobs [CEO, Six Senses] said: ‘It’s the first time in my life that someone has made us a presentation that is 85 per cent complete but 100 per cent the DNA of our company.’”

The intensive construction process involved hand-chiselling every piece of stone, a feat achieved by a family of stonemasons experienced in the necessary age-old techniques. Any limestone and flint excavated from the site was sifted and categorised, re-used to harmonise with the natural landscape. Ten years to build a resort is a long time, but Douek was resolute about elements he unashamedly admits added to the timeline. “The idea of actually excavating from the edge of the cliff delayed us for three years, but I just wasn’t ready to compromise on having zero visibility from such a huge amount of construction and seeing nothing. I wanted to give guests an amazing, infinite view.”

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Clockwise from top left: Bedroom of a villa; entrance to Midian restaurant; terrace; a gaily decked-out camel, the ship of the desert; Jamillah Bar

ASSAF PINCHUK

At night the resort is at its most breathtaking, the expanse of emptiness pockmarked with stardust.

The effect is an eerie, just-landed-on-the-moon vibe

agricultural water systems, zero plastic policy, mindful management of resources and use of traditional mashrabiyas for ventilation, the resort has earned an impressive American LEED Certificate for green building.

A series of small courtyards and paths connects the spa, restaurant and gym, which has been decorated with vintage Israeli posters from Douek’s private collection. The restaurant and Jamilla Bar, a lounge for cocktails and bites, is lined with a record collection featuring music of the Levant curated by Teder, a hipster music venue and radio station based in Tel Aviv. Several design firms were brought on for the interiors, but Douek ended up pulling his own team together, travelling all over the world to personally hunt for fabrics, furniture, accessories and doors reclaimed from disused boats and bridges. The neutral colour scheme features stone, wood and copper, with curved corners finished in tadelakt, a satiny Moroccan limed plaster, teak doors, woven wall tapestries, and fittings and fixtures made in conjunction with local craftsmen from the nearby Shaharut village. The tiny, artsy community, which lives mostly off the grid, initially had reservations about the hotel but Douek quashed their concerns with a commitment to minimising the environmental impact, limiting hotel guest numbers, and even providing employment opportunities to utilise their creative skills. Still, they respectfully prefer guests do not visit them.

While the public areas are shaded by pergolas to provide protection from the winds, they are open-air to enable a view out to Jordan’s red Edom mountains in the distance, the division between land and blazing blue sky so crisp it may have been drawn with a stencil. It’s impossible to tire of it, the rocky canyons of the Arava Valley glinting with sunlight first thing but shifting to a bruised blue come dusk. Yet it’s at night when the resort is at its most breathtaking, the expanse of emptiness pockmarked with stardust. To minimise light pollution, all the artificial lighting faces inwards, with soft lanterns obscuring any harsh source. The effect is an eerie, just-landed-on-the-moon vibe. Silence has never felt so loud.

The opening was initially slated for August 2021, with the prediction of an 80-20 per cent split favouring a demographic of international travellers with money to spend. When Israel’s pandemic restrictions eased but international travel was still barred, nationals made up nearly 90 per cent of guests. “It wasn’t what we expected but the mentality shifted,” says Douek. “People started to realise that instead of staying somewhere for a week, they could stay for a shorter period of time and get better value for money.” With suites starting at $US850 a night and a Private Reserve sitting at about $US15,000, Shaharut is one of only a handful of the country’s luxury hotels so expectations are high, not only because it bears the Six Senses name, but because hospitality in Israel isn’t necessarily known for its silver service. Yet the results speak for themselves: the resort has become a destination in itself and less than a year in they already had repeat guests.

Despite the regional government’s valiant efforts to endorse the Negev, it’s taken Shaharut to really put a spotlight on the area. “It’s been one the biggest achievements of the project for me,” says Douek, a committed proponent of social impact non-profits who has done a lot of work in the area. “There are amazing things to do here but no beds, so there’s a chance to invest in the future of tourism in the south.

Ultimately, It’s going to provide opportunities for local businesses and help create employment and a future for kids who live here. Socially and economically, it would be a win-win for both.”

It’s something he’s already got a head start on too. In an effort to attract young staff, Douek purpose-built a small village complete with gym, music room and public pool. “The resort is so far from anywhere; this way they can be in bed within 20 minutes of finishing their shift.”

The hope, he says, is to “build a young community of people who can contribute to the region or remain in hospitality”.

He is already hinting at new projects in the area that are perhaps more affordable, even a glamping-style experience that can share the same skies as Shaharut but at a third of the price. “After living in tight urban environments during the pandemic, people are eager to experience the calm of nothingness,” he says. “Worldwide, I think there will be more demand for this type of desert resort and experience. And in the case of Shaharut, we are part of a region greater than just a country. We’re sitting on a path that has been here for thousands of years.”