Luxor

Al Moudira means "the boss" — the name the workers gave Zeina Aboukheir, who in 1999 began raising a palace out of west-bank sand. Nothing here is old, and everything looks it. Architect Olivier Sednaoui built a honeycomb of ten courtyards from materials rescued off vanishing historic buildings: vaulted ceilings, terracotta domes, wooden latticework, painted murals, regal arches. Around it, ten hectares of palm grove, lemon trees and bougainvillea, and beyond that the farmland of the west bank — the Valley of the Kings a short drive one way, the tourist press of the east bank safely across the water. Rooms run to fifty square metres and more, each individually furnished with antiques gathered across the Middle East, opening onto courtyards with fountains. Meals come largely from the hotel's own farm, served in the Ottoman room, the main courtyard or the pool pavilion. Relais & Châteaux; Two Michelin Keys.

The pleasure of Al Moudira is its remove. Everything below follows from that.

You are on the west bank, and that is a decision. Six kilometres from central Luxor, with the Nile between. Crossing means the bridge by car, or one of the shuttle ferries that run at all hours. It puts you close to the valleys and far from the corniche — wonderful in the morning, worth planning for in the evening.

The hotel is the evening. Seclusion means dining and drinks happen here: the Great Room under stone arches, the Colonial bar, the Eastern, the poolside pavilion. It is more than equal to the task, but spontaneous dinners elsewhere are not really on offer.

The valleys reward an early start, and so does the balloon. Dawn flights over the west bank are weather-dependent and cancel without much notice; tombs and sites keep changing hours, and closures and cordons are routine.