The Setai

Who better to greet us after a long-haul flight to Miami, via a four-hour layover in Philadelphia, than a hotel driver from the Setai bearing a sign with our names on it? Better yet, one who is there to take our bags off the luggage carousel and carry them to the air-conditioned four-wheel-drive Mercedes waiting outside to transfer us to the hotel.

Our driver is full of useful tips on where to go and what to do in Miami, and good job, too: it turns out the clubs that were rocking on our last trip here (for the legendary industry shindig that is the Miami Winter Music Conference) have long since shut down or moved venue. Mansion, Club Deep and Opium Garden have apparently taken over from Crobar, Space and the Voodoo Lounge as the top spots in town. In any case, when we reach our hotel, we soon realise that all-night clubbing is not going to be on the agenda this time around. For that would mean spending less time in the beautifully understated and luxurious surroundings of the Setai. And, more specifically, less time in the vast ocean-view suite that has been laid on for us.

On the outside, there is little to distinguish the Setai from the art deco architecture of the other hotels along South Beach; after all, these buildings are one of the city’s main draws, and the Miami Design Preservation League heavily polices any work on their exteriors. Originally created as the Jack Dempsey Vanderbilt Hotel in the 1930s, the building has been meticulously brought back to life by architect Jean-Michel Gathy.

Inside is a different story altogether; the Setai’s USP is that it brings the style of Asia’s best resort hotels to the Floridian coast. The Zen-like tranquility of the interiors created by designer Jaya Ibrahim might be a cliché in Thailand or Bali, but here in Miami, it offers a welcome contrast to the ubiquitous boutique designs of other hotels in the area.

And – as at the best hotels Asia has to offer – the welcome could not be warmer. Again, this elevates the Setai above the Miami norm; many of South Beach’s more fashionable hotels are staffed by out-of-work models and actors with attitudes to match. A barman at the Delano once grabbed my wrist as I tried to take my drink from the bar because I hadn’t given him a big enough tip. That would never happen here. Hotelier Adrian Zecha (of Amanresorts fame) knows that hotels are about service as well as style. As does the guest relations manager, who personally greets us at the door, taking us straight to our suite to perform the check-in ritual.

Having been through the formalities, we politely decline the offer of a room tour because, frankly, we can’t wait to get our hands on the freshly baked cookies, provided for guests every night in place of a chocolate on the pillow, that have been distracting us throughout with their delicious aroma. A Lavazza espresso machine (why can’t all hotel rooms have one?) provides a caffeine jolt to accompany the sugar rush and kick our jet-lag into touch. After a soak in the black granite bath in our palatial bathroom, we hit the sack, although ‘sack’ seems a somewhat disrespectful term for our Dux bed, which uses a system specially designed by Swedish scientists to support the body in all the right places for a good night’s sleep.

Next morning, rested and refreshed, we awake early and pull back the curtains to be met by the sight of a tropical sunrise over the ocean – a glorious way to start the day. As to how we spend the rest of it, there are options aplenty. Head for that famous beach? Designer shopping on Lincoln? Checking out the other hotels on Collins (a tourist attraction in its own right)? Or we could take our pick from a list of cultural events the hotel has provided.

But again, for all the attractions Miami has to offer, we are loath to tear ourselves away from the serenity of the Setai just yet. At the back of the hotel, Jean-Michel Gathy has landscaped the grounds leading down to the beach, with candle-lit pergolas, cabanas, courtyards and sunken seating areas around calming oases of water and tropical plants. The swimming pools are one of the hotel’s biggest attractions. Each is heated to a different temperature – take your pick from 70-, 80- or 90-degree warmth. As Mrs Smith shuffles off to the spa in her robe and slippers, I opt to relax by the pool with a book. The staff are so wonderfully attentive – bringing towels, water and Evian spray right on cue – that my day-bed becomes quite literally that: a bed where I could happily spend all day, working my way through the extensive cocktail menu. But Mrs Smith eventually returns, reporting that the spa is equal to any she has visited in Southeast Asia, and we retire to our room to make plans for the evening.

Having spent all day lounging around, we decide that our original plan to dine at Bed – a hip Supperclub style restaurant on Washington – will have us snoring into our starters. Our favourite local delicacy of stone crab claws is out of season, so the legendary Joe’s is also off-limits. Instead we decide to go Cuban – after all, you can eat much better Cuban food here than you can in Cuba itself. Yuca (it stands for Young Urban Cuban Americans, which gives you a fair idea of the clientele) on Lincoln Avenue serves Nuevo Latino cuisine of the highest order. We eat rabo encendido, a traditional Cuban dish of oxtail stewed in Rioja and served with cassava mash, and ‘South Beach’ snapper – a whole but filleted fish, stuffed with avocado and jalapeño rice.

After another night of spinal realignment and sound sleep, we have enough time before check-out to be shown round one of the apartments in the 40-storey all-suite residential tower adjacent to the hotel. Inside, it’s just as stunning as its next-door neighbour, but with the added advantage of balconies enjoying panoramic views, across the ocean to one side and downtown Miami to the other. Lenny Kravitz is creating a recording studio for the Penthouse. When I’m told the price tag, I have to bring Mrs Smith back down to earth. The Setai might have allowed us to live like rock stars for a couple of nights, but the full-time lifestyle is beyond our budget – more’s the pity.