Zhuhai may not shout as loudly as Macau across the water, but occasionally, it produces something that makes even its glitzier neighbour stop mid-baccarat hand. Enter Ahn Luh Dong’ao Island, Zhuhai, a resort with such poise it could well put Zhuhai firmly on the luxury traveller’s wish list alongside the Capris, Maldivian atolls and other overworked Instagram hashtags.
Dong’ao Island itself isn’t exactly unknown, but until now, it has mostly been the preserve of those in the know, seafood lovers, hikers, and people who like their South China Sea horizons uncluttered. Now, with Ahn Luh’s arrival, it is all but certain the island is destined for a little more name-dropping.
A brand with pedigree (and a bit of panache)
Let’s start with the basics. The resort is a joint creation of Huafa Group, Zhuhai’s cultural powerhouse, and Ahn Luh, the boutique brand founded by Adrian Zecha. If Zecha’s name rings a bell, it should be that this man gave the world Aman and redefined what “luxury” looked like. The man practically invented the notion that minimalist villas, a discreet smile, and a well-positioned infinity pool were the new Versailles.
With Ahn Luh, Zecha has turned back to the East, embracing philosophy, culture, and landscapes where the loudest sound is likely the morning birdsong — or in this case, the crash of waves below Paijiao Bay’s cliffs. Dong’ao Island is a fitting stage for this comeback.
More than square metres and thread counts
Interior view of a two-bedroom villa
The numbers are impressive: 42,000 square metres of space, 153 rooms, 34 villas, multiple restaurants, pools, a teahouse, spa, ballroom, Tai Chi studio, you get the idea. But rattling off square metres and guestroom counts misses the point. This isn’t about scale. It’s about mood.
This is a resort where cultural nods aren’t shoved into a brochure as marketing garnish but are actually stitched into the architecture. Local stone, wave motifs, and Lingnan weaving show up not because some consultant thought they sounded authentic but because they belong. UNESCO award-winner Guangde Zhang led the design, and it shows. Step inside, and you don’t just see the view; you feel the island creeping into the walls.
Accolades already on the shelf
The judges have noticed, too. At the LIV Hospitality Design Awards, Novum in France, and MUSE in the US, the resort clutches shiny certificates like a child at the school prizegiving. Awards are nice, of course, but what matters to travellers is whether the place feels alive, and here, Ahn Luh has gone to some lengths to avoid the “luxury by numbers” syndrome.
Experiences with a heartbeat
The hotel’s outdoor infinity pool
Guests aren’t just expected to sip cocktails by the pool (though rest assured, that option exists). The Ahn Luh Academy offers hands-on workshops, the Luh Stage serves up cultural performances, and mornings can begin with Tai Chi under the guidance of people who know what they’re doing, not some overcaffeinated fitness instructor in activewear.
Instead, grandly called Xiaoyao, the wellness program does its bit with Himalayan salt baths and spa treatments. The chefs put their faith in the ancient Chinese calendar, the Twenty-Four Solar Terms, meaning menus arrive with the rhythm of the seasons rather than a supply truck.
Sunrise rituals, traditional tea ceremonies, and artisanal crafting are all there, presented not as kitsch entertainment but as an earnest attempt to ensure the place has a soul.
More than a resort, a calling card
Beyond the infinity pools and cultural workshops lies something more strategic. This is Ahn Luh’s first property in the Greater Bay Area — that cluster of cities China hopes will rival the world’s significant bay economies. In that context, the Dong’ao property is more than a holiday destination; it’s a calling card.
It signals that Zhuhai isn’t content with playing second fiddle to Hong Kong and Macau forever. With resorts like this, the city is edging closer to becoming a destination with pedigree and polish.
A final thought
Will the Ahn Luh Dong’ao Island, Zhuhai, single-handedly rewrite the map of Chinese luxury tourism? Perhaps not. But will it tempt a steady stream of travellers, the curious, the culture-hungry, the corporate retreater desperate for fresh air? Absolutely.
It’s not just about “luxury” anymore; it’s about resonance. And here, on a clifftop in Zhuhai, with the South China Sea lapping below, Ahn Luh seems to have found precisely that.
By Charmaine Lu
