As you leave the highway to turn onto a country road, The Oberoi Rajgarh Palace appears like a Postimpressionist subject, its beige crown backdropped by the freckled green of the Maniyagarh Hills. Rajgarh was commissioned as a fort in the late 17th century. It is from here that the Bundela dynasty presided over a temple town rich with art and a forest full of tigers. Since then, it has lived many lives before becoming an Oberoi property in India, with 65 keys spread over 76 acres. Under the lush cover of sal and palash trees are the garden rooms, ideal for families and guests with mobility restrictions or untethered children. The palace wing up the hill is where the chambers of the Bundela rulers have been redesigned as 17 rooms and suites across three levels, each with stunning views. Keeping with the theme, meals at the restaurant Maanya draw from India’s erstwhile royal kitchens and are accompanied by strains of the sitar. The dazzling temples of Khajuraho are barely 30 minutes away, as is the Panna Tiger Reserve. That said, it’s still tempting to never leave the idyllic grounds. The lakeside pool and spa beckon for a leisurely afternoon of royal relaxation fit for a prince. From £815. Salil Deshpande

You don’t expect this kind of glamour so close to the airport. After landing, you’re gliding past concrete and mild chaos – and then you arrive. The Fairmont Mumbai appears suddenly – stark white façade, black and gold accents—looking more like a grand 1930s film set than a modern luxury hotel. Inside, it gets only more theatrical. The lobby opens up sensationally: monochrome marble, a sunburst ceiling glowing with stained glass and a giant sculptural artwork that’s a tribute to Mumbai’s Hanging Gardens. Look closer to see that it’s crafted from enamel, repoussé metal, embroidered textiles, and block-printed wood. Deco, yes – but Indian too. Mumbai, after all, has the most Art Deco buildings in the world after Miami. The walls of the hotel are where the real storytelling happens. Artist Venu Juneja has turned Bombay’s past into something archival, emotional, cinematic: vintage train tickets as collages, women clad in saris threaded with Deco motifs, 1920s Indian women aviators reimagined in stylised frames. There are five restaurants, each with its own personality. An Indo-French patisserie situated under cherry trees. A food hall inspired by itinerant traders. A moody Sichuan lounge alive past midnight. Then there’s The Blu Xone, where you can take advantage of cryotherapy, hyperbaric oxygen, and red light therapy. Less Champagne and caviar, more cellular revival and biohacking. This is Gatsby with a Mumbai address. And yes, the next time someone tells you airport hotels are blah, send them here. From £187. Shunali Khullar Shroff

This secluded modernist villa-hotel and five-acre estate is sheltered in the long arm of Gondang Beach in northwestern Lombok, nestled in a coconut grove in the lee of the often cloud-wreathed Mount Rinjani. The iconic volcano, the second largest in Indonesia, rises above an emerald patchwork of rice paddies at the estate’s shoulder, while to the west, the complex faces a wide ocean horizon. This is a ringside seat on the constantly changing spectacle of the surf and the violet sunsets, the stirring drama of Bali’s famous Mount Agung, which is silhouetted against the skyline and emits occasional plumes of smoke. The nine low-slung villas—along with the main hub containing the OFYR grill restaurant and the wellness and communal living space (with a lounge, a small gym and yoga studio, a bar, and a Kerastase hair salon)—are built from rough stone conceived to blend into a startling pewter-colored beach. The diamond sparkle of mica in decorative stones catches the light of the evening lanterns and flares on the private terraces as dusk. The sober Brutalist linearity of the architecture, the minimalist palette, and the restrained aesthetic enforce a deep sense of tranquillity and a quiet, restorative luxury that enhances rather than detracts from the peerless views. It’s a place to decompress, breathe, and forget the world; total privacy and 24-hour service guaranteed by your personal butler and chef. From £513. Catherine Fairweather

Tokyo’s flashy Ginza neighbourhood is known for its luxury shopping brands. But the new Fufu—which means “to giggle” in Japanese – sits discreetly on a quiet backstreet behind the flagship Harry Winston. Guests arrive by passing through an earthen wall, then follow a darkened hallway to the end, where an ikebana flower lantern hangs, each colourful stamen, petal, and leaf vein poetically illuminated. But the 34-room property’s humble exterior belies the artful interiors on floors 7 to 12, which coddle guests in ultra privacy from the moment they arrive. The ethereal lobby, which smells of smoked green tea, is a herringbone configuration of individual check-in alcoves made of snow-white washi paper. Other rarefied materials are found at every turn: aluminium silver designed to oxidise in the elevator, a zelkova-wood bar, and willow-leaf-impressed mud tiles. It goes above and beyond the standard ryokan furnishings of tatami mats, sliding shoji, and hinoki onsen, which Fufu Ginza has too. Privacy is the code word here: An open-air foot bath on the rooftop features cabanas where guests sip sparkling yuzu soda and wine; retractable booths at the eight-seat sushi counter cordon you off from chatty neighbours. The big sell: Every room has a furnished and landscaped terrace and its own private onsen filled with volcanic water trucked in from Atami, 90 minutes away. The hidden bonus, however, is that there is no hotel crowd, and that’s precisely the point. You’ll get only fleeting glimpses of the other guests, as you decompress, reflect, and soak up the seclusion, the biggest luxury in a city of 14 million. From £545. Adam H. Graham

In the early noughties Park Hyatt Tokyo’s indelible Kenzo Tange-designed tower inspired cult film Lost in Translation. Following a recent 19-month closure and renovation, the air of enchantment that lingers around this hallowed icon in Shinjuku is not only alive, but as effervescent as ever. Paris-based Studio Jouin Manku’s reinvention should please the most loyal patrons, including Sofia Coppola, with a reverent yet refreshing take on masterful interior designer John Morford’s original vision. This is a noticeable ramp-up, which retains Park Hyatt’s moody, slightly traditional, forest-imbued vibe and much of its pre-existing art, layering the look with new commissions from those same Japanese talents. The 52nd floor’s landmark New York Bar and neighbouring Grill are still fabulous, serving up nostalgia alongside flawless martinis, live jazz, Ruinart bubbles and buttery Japanese beef. Eleven floors down, the new Girandole by Alain Ducasse is a dreamy culinary jaunt to Paris atop white linens; and Kozue salutes the seasons via intricate kaiseki courses presented with bows and smiles by kimonoed servers, overlooking Mount Fuji. The hotel’s atmosphere is restorative: yuzu bath salts and hushed orange sunrises; swims at Club on the Park beneath a glass atrium ceiling; tranquillising calligraphy-inspired facial massages using soft handcrafted Kumano brushes. What has always been true about Park Hyatt Tokyo still is: guests aren’t just booking a Frette-topped bed, but also a ticket to a legendary experience. From £614. Kathryn Romeyn

Practically every window, every sliding door, every gap between the trees at Gora Kadan Fuji frames Japan’s most iconic peak, Mount Fuji. In winter, its slopes are covered in snow, the original volcano emoji. On summer nights, dots of light move upward as climbers make their way to the top for sunrise. The mountain may be the star of the show here, but there’s a lot more to love, handy for those days when it’s shrouded in cloud. Gora Kadan Fuji’s 39 suites and three villas feature tatami, granite, paper, and cypress in a flawless blend of traditional Japanese design and contemporary comfort. Service, delivered by attentive staff in exquisite kimonos, is calm and caring. Breakfast is a succession of delicate, locally sourced morsels presented in pretty little dishes. Convivial dinners take place at the seven-seater counter of Kappo and at equally bijou Sushi Fuji Takumi, where seafood from nearby waters is transformed into seasonal nigiri. Carnivores head to Teppanyaki Fuji Kanda for rare-breed Kagoshima beef, and at Kaiseki Cuisine Kadan, elaborate multicourse menus are served on antique tableware. Guests soak neck-deep in communal and private onsen baths, filled from underground springs and snowmelt groundwater. Spa treatments employ fermented rice koji, tachibana citrus, and silk. One in particular, “Head Immersion Therapy,” is a cascade of carbonated hot spring water so deeply soothing it’s like an out-of-body experience. I stay in Gora Kadan’s largest villa, the Villa Hare (pronounced “ha-ray”), a collection of spacious tatami rooms centred around a private swimming pool that reflects Mount Fuji like a mirror. As hard as it is to drag myself out from under my cosy duvet for a 4:20 a.m. summer sunrise, seeing Fuji’s slopes dyed red from the first sunrays is worth the early alarm. But it would be worth it at any time of year. Gora Kadan Fuji is a place to return to in every season. There is magic in these hills. From £325. Nicola Chilton

George Town is a nostalgist’s fever dream. The pastel-hued heritage shophouses lining its narrow streets hark back to its immigrant past; nasi kandar stalls dating to the early 1900s still serve steaming plates late into the night; and traditional Chinese stilt houses stand quietly, lapped by the sea. Yet alongside these enduring scenes, a more contemporary George Town emerges, shaped by fine dining restaurants, artisanal ice cream parlours and boutiques flaunting linen coordinates. Soori Penang, a new hideaway in the cultural heart of the island, captures this dialogue. The 15-suite retreat lies within the compound of Khoo Kongsi – Penang’s grandest Chinese clan temple – where the hotel’s owner and architect, Soo K Chan, grew up. He has transformed two rows of shophouses into 15 serene suites marked by stone plinths upon which the clan’s emblematic lions sit. Interiors unfold in a restrained, monochromatic palette of wood, granite and alabaster. The decor is minimal but intentional: a carved wooden sculpture mounted on the wall, a bowl of longan fruit on a marble table. Still, echoes of the original shophouses remain in the courtyard, with an air well open to the sky and tall vertical windows fitted with wooden shutters. The culinary programme is European in structure but rooted in local produce; an upstairs tearoom doubles as a seating area and showcase for Chinese tea culture; and guided excursions led by locals highlight heritage Peranakan homes as much as they do the city’s evolving dining scene. From £590. Arati Menon

Capella Taipei’s designer, André Fu, is a man who knows the importance of making an entrance. Here, at this ultra-luxury hotel, the first such opening in the city in over a decade, guests can swan into the lobby through a repeating arched passageway or sashay up a modernist spiral staircase from the first floor to the second-floor wellness level. Inside, well-dressed guests enjoy afternoon tea beneath a 16-foot-tall mural speckled with the vivid blue of Taiwan’s national bird, a bespoke artwork created by Hong Kong-based French artist Elsa Jeandedieu, one of the hundreds of art pieces that litter the hotel. The 86 rooms are dressed in warm neutrals and mineral blues; some come with balconies and others with entire pool terraces. An all-star cast of restaurants includes intimate Japanese omakase Mizue, contemporary Cantonese restaurant Rong Ju, and upbeat modern grill Ember 28. Come nightfall, there’s also The Glasshouse, a three-story bar with vinyl and live music in the basement; a ground-floor cocktail joint; and a Champagne and whiskey lounge up top. Throw in the 14th-floor swimming pool with a deck overlooking the leafy historic neighbourhood of Dunhua Road—an area made for exploring – and it’s clear that there’s nowhere better to stay in the city of Taipei. From £524. Lee Cobaj

Aman Nai Lert Bangkok is not a place one loves then leaves. It stays with you. For nearly a year, over and over, I’ve wished to be back in its ninth-floor infinity pool, delicate shadows from a massive sampong tree canopy dancing on the salt water as a wispy breeze fluttered in my hair. I can’t count how often I’ve begun salivating when I thought of the tender, sticky-sweet-and-salty moo ping pork skewers and limitless bowls of melt-in-your-mouth mango I devoured at breakfast. And I crave deeply the energy-releasing tap-tap-tap of the hand-carved teak tools used in the extensive and empyreal hotel spa’s singular Nud Tok Sen massage. These are not only happy memories; they are all connected to the rich storytelling of this urban resort built amid a seven-acre bubble of lushness that was the early-20th-century teak retreat of visionary Thai entrepreneur and businessman Phraya Bhakdinorasreth, known as Nai Lert – it’s well worth a tour. His descendants’ hotel and private members club is intimately tethered to its place down to the littlest detail, such as custom-designed tipis for the youngest guests depicting Nai Lert’s famous pet leopard, Chao Taem. (The classic-luxury touches are there too, like circular bathtubs – so large that they’re practically plunge pools – best enjoyed with gratis Billecart-Salmon Champagne from the minibar.) Glamorously artful and thoughtful in both aesthetics and hospitality, the bolt-hole is perhaps Bangkok’s most personal, chockablock with intimate references in a setting best described as elysian. Being a guest here feels like being woven into the fabric of its history too. From £830. Kathryn Romeyn

Five years in the making, the Waldorf Astoria Osaka is the first outpost of the brand in Japan. Osaka is seeing a spate of new luxury hotels, so the pressure on this one to stand out was intense. The brand has done that by bringing its key features—Art Deco architecture, innovative dining, a grand ballroom, the Peacock Alley lounge where guests gather at all times of the day—and infusing them with an unmistakably Japanese spirit. Renowned designer André Fu (of Upper House Hong Kong and Capella Singapore fame) took his brief seriously—and delivered. The result is a signature Waldorf Astoria that’s still authentic to its location. The hotel has the largest rooms in all of Osaka. Even the regular rooms – with separate living areas, walk-in closets, and, best of all, floor-to-ceiling windows for dazzling views of the city – feel like junior suites. Ask for one of the 13 corner suites, especially if you’re visiting during the annual fireworks festival over the summer. You’ll have a seat good enough to sell tickets for. From £625. Divia Thani