Staying at Aman Resorts affords you not only luxury and comfort, but also self-renewal.

“A change of character, not a change of air, is what you need” – Seneca, the Greek Stoic philosopher, advised on the art of travel.

Travel has taken on a whole new meaning in our globalised era – or post-globalisation, some may argue – where accommodation, flights, insurance, and itineraries are all just a few taps away on our smartphones.

Yet, we now yearn for more than the ephemeral delights of shopping and dining; we seek tranquillity, peace, ease, and personal growth. Seneca believed such things are beyond the gift of any place, “unless the mind is at its own disposal, able at will to provide its own seclusion even in crowded moments”.

However, my sojourn to Amanfayun in Hangzhou has put this notion to challenge.

Amanfayun

Sprawling amidst 14 hectares of ancient tea plantations and verdant forests near the UNESCO-protected West Lake, Amanfayun is a quaint, pastoral retreat, artfully crafted from a village dating back to the Tang dynasty. It now boasts 46 guest dwellings, each a tapestry of old-world allure, connected by meandering stone pathways.

As soon as you arrive in the lobby, you pick up on the design mandate led by the late hospitality design legend Jaya Ibrahim, known for his precise symmetry and contemporary reimagining of historical aesthetics. For example, the bespoke chairs that echo sleek Ming-dynasty elegance, the refined scent stands, and the modern lighting that blends right in.

With a reverence for the site’s past, the guest accommodations are erected on the very footprints of the original village homes, harnessing local techniques and materials such as rammed earth – a time-honoured blend of earth, chalk, lime, and gravel. 

My room is clad in graceful oak and appointed with touches of sandalwood, bluestone bricks, and inkstone – the latter for its non-slip properties in the shower – exuding elegance and thoughtfulness. It shares an austere courtyard with two nearby abodes, a layout that facilitates both community and privacy, perfect for a winter outdoor hotpot or a quiet evening under the stars with friends.

Entering my room, the influence of Ibrahim is unmistakable. The space flows about a central round dining table, with a lounge at the far end, bedroom, and study to the left, and bathroom to the right, all arranged with both symmetry and freewheeling causality that was instantly endearing.

Despite the open layout, the traditional canopy bed – or “eight-step bed” (as it takes eight steps to walk from one side to the other) – ensures privacy. Draw the drapery and you feel enveloped in a protective cocoon that promises a perfect slumber.

Yet, it's the solid oak study, with the accompanying lantern floor lamp (it has to be this combo), that became my favourite corner. On the desk was a copy of Diamond Sutra that invites guests to cram their minds before bedtime with a bid of calligraphy practice. Adjacent to the desk, a hanging piece of calligraphy art subtly bears the name of the suite.

While many suites are modern additions, some, like the century-old Fayun Place, teem with history. Secluded at the end of a pebbled path, the jazzed-up courtyard hosts art and calligraphy lessons downstairs, with a cigar room and library above.

This is a place where serendipity abounds. For example, a monk is invited on site to teach us how to bring a fish to life on rice paper using just a few brushstrokes. The key, I found, was to still your mind before the brush even touches the paper – a lesson in mindfulness as much as in art.

For me, mindfulness is nurtured through our connection with nature. Amanfayun, cradled among seven ancient temples on undulating hills, is a canvas for such introspection.

The nearest, Lingyin Temple, is just a stroll away. Come nightfall, its caverns and limestone carvings brought us on a quest to rediscover the thrill of a last-minute adventure long forgotten. Nearby, Yongfu Temple, is as if sprung from a Chinese scroll – leaves gently fall, monks moving slowly with their brooms, and chants meld into the air.

If Amanfayun is all about pastoral charm, Amanyangyun, the group’s other jewel in Shanghai, offers a vision of inner calm through a more contemporary lens.

Amanyangyun

Without rolling hills or a bucolic village as a backdrop, Amanyangyun, nestled near the pulse of the country’s commercial centre, still manages to find its calm.

Brought to life by Kerry Hill Architects, and the landscapes by Dan Pearson Studio, the resort presents a tableau of old-mix-new 26 suites and 13 villas sitting among a forest of ancient camphor trees, some of them a thousand years old, trucked in from Jiangxi Province. It's the brainchild of Dadong Ma, a local entrepreneur with a big heart for conservation. He saw these trees in the path of a new reservoir project and decided not only to save them, but to make them thrive again. 

Ma didn’t stop here. He also saved around 50 Ming and Qing Dynasty village homes from the same fate. Now, their architectural bits and pieces, think stone carvings, breathe new life into some 13 Jiangxi-style marvels at Amanyangyun, only with a modern twist.

The villas, staying true to traditional Hui-style homes, boast sharp crow-stepped gables – a feature once designed to thwart the spread of fire – and tall, imposing brick walls that encircle serene courtyards. These enclosed courtyards often come with a central pond and elegant rain chains intended to keep the house cool and for better feng shui.

Local stone – sandstone, limestone, granite – is everywhere, lending to the intricate carvings (old or new) that adorn the entrance doors and columns. Inside, a woodcarving fest unfolds, dressing up everything you lay your eyes on.

The Antique Villas have it all. Stone carvings, antique wood beams and columns persevered from Jiangxi weaved throughout, juxtaposed with modern furniture that’s straight-up Ming elegance. Some villas even come with a pool, if you want to splash around in private with a view of those storied camphor trees.

As a solo traveller, I checked into a guest suite instead. It's more pared-down, but doesn’t skimp on the Zen. Wood accents and clean lines remain the key design mandate. Carved panels and light fixtures add extra dimension to the tranquillity. Like 23 others, my suite had this walled courtyard with an outdoor bath, but instead of the usual wood walls, it was glass. There, I spent hours with a book – proving that sometimes a change of environment is all we need to refocus the mind.

For a little cultural respite, you can sign up for a Guqin class that takes place at the refined Nan Shufang, the resort’s cultural hub named in homage of the Forbidden City’s royal study. The Aman Spa, equipped with a gym and expansive outdoor pool, offered its own brand of rejuvenation, enhanced by meditative gong music sessions. Outside one of the three restaurants, a petite farm plot offers a hands-on farm-to-table experience. 

A buggy-ride north of the resort, the Bei Tea House stands as a secluded haven for a sip of tranquillity. Housed within a refurbished century-old edifice graced with a Zen-inducing enclosed courtyard, the teahouse has it all for guests to decompress with a soothing cuppa in the quietude of its surrounds.

But the real kicker to me (and probably to most Chinese KOLs) was the afternoon tea cruise. It's not just for show or your next Instagram post; the tea spread, graced with sweet delights and dainty savoury bites, is also top-notch. As the sun dips, that's your golden hour on the water.

For those seeking something permanent, the resort also offers a collection of mansions for purchase. Ranging from 1,397 to 1,814 square metres, the residences, also by Kerry Hill Architects, blends Ming and Qing architectural with a modern flair. Nestled amid the camphor forest, culture hub, the spa, and placid lake, residents have easy access to the resort’s many facilities such as the art galleries, restaurants, and bars, and even a movie theatre right behind the hotel reception area.

At Aman, you don't simply check in for a stay; you encounter a companion in the essence of the place, sophisticated and wise, that can foster inner peace and ease, just as Seneca puts it: “If you want to enjoy your travel, you must make your travelling companion a healthy one.”