NIHI Sumba
"Why book? Oft-touted as “the next Bali,” Sumba’s shores are seeing an influx in smart beach resorts—but this laidback-luxe Sumba stalwart remains in a league of its own. Set the scene After a 50-minute flight from Bali and a two-hour ride in Nihi’s safari-style jeeps, the first thing you see is a wooden board that reads “Welcome to the Edge of Wildness.” It marks the transition from Sumba’s ragged heartland to Nihi’s meticulously manicured jungle bubble, a toes-in-the-sand retreat where staff deliver football-sized coconuts at the drop of a hat and Sandalwood ponies roam the beach at sunset. In front, Palo Alto 30-somethings bob in the waves on their surfboards, cheered on by their WASPy spouses clad in linen tunics, who keep half an eye on their salty-haired offspring hunting for seashells on the beach. At night, you’ll find them dancing on the teakwood tables at Nihi’s weekly White Party, or talking surf over frosty Bintangs at the bamboo-clad Boathouse watersports center. The backstory The resort’s first iteration, Nihiwatu, was the brainchild of American surfer Claude Graves, who, irked by the dire state of surf camps back in the late ’80s, decided to take matters into his own hands and build a surf retreat that even trailing girlfriends would enjoy. He found the perfect setting here, on Sumba’s southwestern coast, where one of the island’s best waves breaks just offshore. After Nihiwatu’s launch in 2001, stays at this low-key beach retreat became a rite of passage in surfer circles. In 2012, American entrepreneur Christopher Burch and hot-shot hotelier James McBride took over and zhuzhed it up to the tune of 30 million dollars, launching Nihi into the league of one-percenter hideaways. The rooms How big do you want ‘em? Whether you’re here on a honeymoon or traveling with the whole crew, Nihi’s string of bamboo-and-teak estates has a villa that fits the bill. There are snug one-bedroom cottages with archetypal Sumbanese thatch roofs ensconced in jungly gardens frothy with hot pink bougainvillea, or multi-bedroomed family pads with indoor-outdoor dining rooms and fully staffed kitchens. They’re all wholly different, but unified in their breezy slip-your-shoes-off atmosphere, private pools, open-air bathrooms, and furnishing of ikat textiles and local handiwork. Food and drink Nihi’s two dining outlets, the clifftop Ombak restaurant and beachfront Nio Beach Club, are both sand-floored affairs where the focus lies on global comfort food. Days start with smoothie bowls, fresh juices, and mie goreng at Ombak, while poolside nosh (think: line-caught grilled fish, tuna tataki, chicken wraps) is the theme at Nio during lunch. For dinner, Ombak turns out lamb chops and salads from Nihi’s organic garden, or moves its kitchen crew to the beach for BBQ parties where everyone’s invited. Will you have the best clay-oven pizza or beef rendang you’ve ever had? Not really. But for a resort this remote, it hits the spot (and there’s a tip-top wine list to boot). The spa There’s a small spa near the beach in the main resort, but consider that a teaser for what awaits at Nihi’s much-touted Spa Safari. This half-day wellness journey starts with a 90-minute trek through the palm groves and rice fields to Nihi’s east, where the resort has pitched up a small enclave of bamboo spa pavilions around a dazzling boulder-strewn bay. Choose between body wraps, herbal hair smoothies, or bone-cracking Sumbanese rubdowns, after which you can stick around for dips in the beachfront pool—or even spend the night at the lonely villa hidden in the hilltop jungle. The area Rugged Sumba, a few islands east of Indonesia’s tourist epicenter, still retains an air of mystery. While its undulating hillscapes, palm groves, and pancake-stacked rice paddies span an island twice Bali’s size, it’s home to just a fraction of Bali’s population—many of whom still live in rural thatch-roofed dwellings and follow funerary rituals dating back to their Bronze Age ancestors. Sumba’s tourism industry is still in its nascent stage, and many of its landmarks—glassy lagoons and frozen-in-time villages—haven’t yet been Instagrammed into oblivion. This means there’s also little in the way of tourist infrastructure, especially on the luxury front. There are virtually no restaurants worth leaving the resort for, so expect to spend most of your time (and lots of money) in Nihi’s ultra-comfortable bubble. The service Fittingly unfussy. Most of the staff members grew up around the island and are visibly proud to be working here. Nihi plucked many of them from the local Sumba Hospitality Foundation, of which it is a benefactor, and provided them with on-the-job training to kick off their hospitality careers. Each villa has a dedicated Kapten (a Nihi-fied term for butler) who’s just a WhatsApp message away from beach picnics, excursion bookings, and local intel. That said, during my most recent visit, when the GM was apparently away, staff management felt a little too laissez-faire for a resort of this caliber. For families Apart from the family-sized villa estates and kid-friendly menus, Nihi has a host of activities that will please even the youngest beach bums. We’re talking pony riding, baby turtle releases, and even a full-fledged chocolate factory—on top of a range of bespoke spa sessions, jungle explorations, and off-resort tours designed in collaboration with early childhood experts. Eco effort Despite the organic vegetable patches, bamboo straws, and glass water bottles, it’s hard to call a resort with dozens of private pools even remotely sustainable—especially given the fact that much of Sumba’s population has no direct access to clean water. The screaming inequality during the hotel transfer through Sumba’s ramshackle villages is painfully obvious, but my pangs of traveler’s guilt were slightly softened by knowing that Nihi aims to give back to the community through its philanthropic initiatives, including the funding of water wells and malaria clinics around the island, and helping the youngest generation with nutritious school lunches and educational development. Accessibility No." - Chris Schalkx
