At Umana Bali, you can have an unforgettable time without ever leaving your villa

Call me old-fashioned, but in a world where you can’t throw a dog-eared city guide without it landing on the doorstep of yet another brand new hotel, it’s so refreshing to stumble upon a little gem like Umana Bali.

Tucked away at the end of a long (thankfully, traffic-jam-free) road on the way to Uluwatu, the sprawling 10-hectare resort was, until recently, the Jumana, and before that, the Banyan Tree. In November 2023, the Hilton group pitched up, and tapped WATG Wimberly Interiors (the hotshot studio behind the gorgeous Garden Wing of the Shangri-La in Singapore) to rework the 72 villas into Southeast Asia’s first LXR, the Hilton’s luxury arm.

There’s so much to applaud the Umana for, not least the sparkling transformation of the previous moody, dark timber vibe into a brighter, fresher aerie with the ocean peeking out above the thick foliage, and white and yellow flowered frangipani trees.

In particular, its sustainability approach deserves top points. Just about every other hotel boasts loudly of its eco-green credentials, but by not demolishing a perfectly serviceable resort and building a fancy new one at immense financial and environmental cost, Umana shows just what can be done with a little bit of imagination and effort.

Superficially, the exterior of the up-cycled resort looks much as it did when Banyan Tree was in residence between 2009 and 2020. If you’ve been here before, you’ll remember the tree-shaded lanes, pretty little gardens and, perhaps, even some of the doll-sized monkeys that sometimes peer over the garden walls.

The interiors of the vast 403 sq m to 1,200 sq m villas, though, have been completely transformed, WATG layering soothing white and cream fabrics, textured wall panels and lightly hued timber fixtures over a generously proportioned private garden which includes a leafy outdoor shower, and a lap pool whose length varies between 10m and 25m depending on whether you’re in a one-, two-, or three-bedroom villa.

Besides the spa pool, the resort’s principal L-shaped infinity pool – its thin edge disappearing into the sky beyond – sits next to Commune, the resort’s all-day diner. Most of the time, it’s serenely undisturbed, save for the occasional young couples who dip in to film an Instagram reel. After a few minutes of bobbing and posing, they emerge and disappear in the direction of their villa.

“No one ever uses the pool. Everyone has their own pool in the villa,” one of the staff at Pad, the pool bar, told me. He noticed my empty glass. “Would you like another Negroni, Bapak?”

And after just a day at the Umana, it became clear to me that, really, there is no reason for anyone to ever leave their villa other than to check out for the airport and the flight home. The villas are so vast. Bored with the bedroom? Adjourn to the massive bathroom for a soak in a tub that’s big enough to park a Porsche SUV. Bored with that? Recline in the huge day bed in the garden and order room service.

And if you’re deep-pocketed enough to check into the three-bedroom villa, there’s a separate karaoke villa with a pool table if you get bored belting out Shake It Off. 

The thoughtfulness quotient gets a round of applause. If you don’t fancy dealing with Bali’s worsening traffic, there’s a helicopter pad from which you can take off on your daily excursions. If you’re travelling with children, there’s a well-stocked kids’ club that also features – of all, the thoughtful things anyone could think of – a nap-room. Which, in case it’s not clear, is exactly what it sounds like. All of which leaves the coast clear for relieved parents to make a beeline for the lobby where there are extremely well-run Balinese coffee, wine and arak masterclasses to be sampled.

By this stage, especially after a swig of the killer house-made arak, you’re willing to let slide the fact that the concierges and butlers are called Curators. Ours was called Bagus, which means ‘good’ in Bahasa Indonesia – a name that couldn’t have been more apt as he was so cheerful and upbeat in arranging a blow-out in-villa barbecue on our last night, organising a morning walk through the local village, and booking tickets to watch a fabulous Kecak Dance performance at the outdoor amphitheatre down on Melasti Beach.

The transition from Jumana to Umana isn’t fully complete. In the works is Uma Beach House – a perky ocean-side bolthole framed by the towering limestone cliffs ­– whose silhouette is inspired by both a traditional Balinese headdress, and the diaphanous sandat flower. When it opens later this year, around November, it’ll probably have the best seats in the house for sunset cocktails.

Elsewhere, parts of the spa are still being refreshed including the installation of a steam room.

I peered up into the clear domed sky. “A steam room?” I asked doubtfully. “In this weather?”

“Have you tried the hot tub in your villa? Bali can get cold in July and August,” Bagus assured us in a tone that suggested we needed to get out more.

“I guess we’ll need to come again then,” I said.

Bagus beamed. “You must, Bapak.” 

www.umanabali.com. Rates start from around US$750 (S$1,010)