When it comes to Bali’s two Aman hotels, they seem easy to file away as opposites: jungle or coast, hills or sea, Ubud or East Bali. The truth, after a week split between Amandari and Amankila, is that they are best experienced together. Two resorts unmistakably Aman, yet entirely different in rhythm.
Opened in 1989 in Ubud, Amandari came first, making it a fitting starting point. It was Aman’s second property, following Amanpuri in Phuket by a year, and became something of a blueprint for the brand’s now-familiar formula: low-slung suites immersed in nature, architecture dissolving the line between indoors and out. Nearly four decades on, it remains timeless.
The drive from Denpasar Airport to Ubud takes about 90 minutes, weaving past scooters, crowded towns and thick jungle. Then comes the shift. Turning through Amandari’s stone-walled entrance feels like crossing into another world. Rosella iced tea appears on arrival, check-in takes place at a pavilion-style bar and, despite arriving after dark, the sense of calm is immediate. The valley view remains hidden until morning.
The resort has only 31 rooms, though the word “room” feels inadequate. The bungalow I stay in has vaulted ceilings, teak detailing and vast windows framing impossibly green rice terraces. Privacy is absolute, enclosed by stone walls and opening only towards the fields beyond.
The outdoor bath quickly becomes a highlight: a generous marble tub ideal after long days exploring Ubud on foot. Fresh flowers appear throughout the villa – blooming and growing more fragrant each day – even arranged beside the basin in the WC, a far more elegant alternative to synthetic air fresheners.
It is this attention to detail that elevates Aman beyond conventional luxury. The minibar is constantly replenished with home-made cookies and fresh fruit. Aman-branded amenities include insect spray alongside lotions and shampoo, while a Dyson hairdryer sits discreetly tucked away. When four unexpected days of jungle rain catch me underprepared, raincoats are sourced without any fuss and warm pashminas quietly appear at dinner.
Designed by architect Peter Muller and inspired by traditional Balinese villages, the property has moss-covered pathways that weave past lotus ponds and hidden courtyards. Statues honouring Balinese Hinduism sit throughout the grounds. Only on my final afternoon do I discover tennis courts concealed among tropical planting, alongside an indoor gym, as well as a serene spa.
The signature massage is excellent, though this newly discovered setting may surpass it: half indoors, half outdoors, with a pond filled with fish less than a metre from the massage bed.
One morning, I join the guided sunrise walk, a gentle 3km route through rice terraces, villages and narrow water-lined paths. Breakfast awaits at a hilltop clearing: fruit, pastries and coffee laid out overlooking valleys with Mount Batur rising in the distance. It is a truly serene way to start the day.
Breakfast, in fact, feels like an Amandari speciality. It can appear on excursions, private jungle decks, in-room or at the restaurant overlooking the Ayung River. If you have ever seen photographs of Bali’s famous “influencer swings” suspended above jungle valleys, this is likely the view. Better enjoyed, perhaps, quietly with coffee and fruit, without a queue of TikTokers waiting behind.
After four days amid Ubud’s greenery, it is time to head east. Perched above Lombok Strait, Amankila draws inspiration from nearby water palaces commissioned by the last Balinese king of Karangasem in the early 20th century. Designers Ed Tuttle and Danilo Capellini have created a sanctuary suspended between mountains and sea.
Like its sister property, Amankila has about 30 rooms, but its scale feels dramatically larger. Spread across a sprawling 12 hectares, pathways tumble down cliffsides between hillside pavilions, winding staircases and the beach below.
Arrival at this property begins with a blessing ceremony. Ginger tea and sorbet appear moments later. Unlike in Ubud, I arrive in daylight. The view makes an immediate impression: a quiet bay where every shade of blue seems visible between sea and sky.
Architecturally, Amankila feels a bit more theatrical. Its defining feature is the famous three-tier infinity pool that cascades dramatically down the hillside.
Service at this property borders on telepathic. Cold towels, sunscreen and aloe vera appear unprompted. One attendant quietly offers to clean my sunglasses while I swim.
Dining also feels grander in scale. Where Amandari centres meals around a single restaurant and terrace bar, Amankila offers Italian restaurant Arva, Indonesian dining at Sandikala and an international selection at the Beach Club. Elsewhere, The Terrace provides welcome shelter when an afternoon storm rolls through.
Arva delivers exceptional pasta, but Sandikala is the standout. The Indonesian sharing menu includes lobster and prawn spring rolls, vegetable fritters, satays grilled over charcoal and coconut curry made with the day’s catch.
Like Amandari, breakfast remains a ritual. It can be taken at Sandikala, balancing Balinese and international options, or woven into excursions.
One morning, I take breakfast aboard a boat trip along the coastline, earning pastries and iced coffee with a snorkelling stop. Yet the defining meal comes on my final morning.
A walk leads me to a bale hut perched high above the coastline. Below sits a black-sand beach; to the north rises Mount Agung. Breakfast arrives picnic-style. It feels like the perfect place to reflect on two very different sides of Bali before stepping back into traffic, noise and the real world beyond Aman’s cocoon.
FOLLOW TN MAGAZINE