Hammam al Andalus plunges you into hot water and Arabian Nights

Some spas are memorable for the quality of their treatments or the skill of their therapists. Others celebrate their link to a luxury brand. Some stand out for their unique locations, while others tout the source and health-giving qualities of their water. Most, these days, strive for luxury. But none, in my experience, does atmosphere like the Hammam al Andalus in Granada.

If Disney ran a spa inside an Aladdin-themed hotel, it would be like this. Except more crowded. By my count the Hammam limits each two-hour slot to about 30 people, meaning that while you're sharing the baths with others it never feels jammed (except in the changing rooms) and you have a fair chance of finding yourself alone occasionally in any of the four pools. (Photos borrowed from their web site.)

The Arabs were just as mad about bathing for cleanliness and pleasure as the Romans, building opulent, heated aquatic complexes in most of their cities. The Hammam presents itself as a luxurious bath from the time the Nasrids were living in their opulent palace on the hilltop immediately above. This isn't an original complex (it was a restaurant just a few years ago) but if your sightseeing took you to the medieval baths in either the Alhambra or the Albaicin you'll appreciate how carefully they've copied the original here. Opulent tiles cover the lower walls, plaster panels of intricate arabesques the upper. There are romantic scalloped arches, hammered silver tea sets laid out for your refreshment and those distinctive star-shaped openings punched through the ceilings and lit to give you the impression of sunlight filtering in, even though there's a building above you.

There are four different baths laid out along a corridor: One cold, two piping hot and the largest comfortable as a warm bathtub. On a floorpan this would look like a boring string of rooms along a single corridor, but they've used narrow archways, decorative columns, and pierced-metal lanterns make it into a mysterious warren. One of the hot pools is long and narrow, like an ornamental reflecting pool in a garden, and only about 16 inches deep; perfect for stretching out with your head on the lip and getting comatose. The other a much deeper rectangle with another, smaller rectangle leading off it. The smaller rectangle is shallower and has a screen at the back from which hot water appears to flow from the living rock. Sitting in the main rectangle, a tower stretches up at least three times the depth of the pool and is encrusted with ornate decoration to contemplate as you soak.

Health and safety regulations are clearly different here. My regular spa in the UK won't heat the water to these temperatures, in case bathers are too stupid to get out in time to protect their health. A good deal of the atmosphere comes from lighting far dimmer than any I suspect would be allowed in the UK, exacerbated by large groupings of flickering candles and mist that I'm fairly sure was occasionally pumped in. A gentle, Moorish take on spa music plays softly. You've definitely sunk into a world of exotic harems and Arabian Nights.

The largest pool was about the size of one you'd find in a domestic garden, but had columns springing out of it a bit like the famous cisterns in Istanbul.

So even with a larger group of people here, you could float into a dark corner behind a column and be lulled by the sound of water trickling in from a fountain in the wall. Talking is discouraged; this place is all about quiet contemplation. There's a steam room and sauna behind this which I didn't check out. (After thirty years of surviving St. Louis summers I've never been able to grasp the point of intentionally making yourself hot and sticky.)

Steps lead down from this main pool to another corridor forming the bottom of an "L" with the one that runs along the pools. Down here you'll find showers, a series of alcoves where therapists deliver treatments and a square room at the end where people can lie on marble slabs around another fountain post massage. I just went for the pool time (about £35 for two hours) but reports back on the massage indicate I missed a good one.

The two-hour time limit and the request for near-total silence are both unusual for a spa, but essential given the size of the place and the desire to maintain the atmosphere. And there's no wiggle room on that time. If you book for 10 am, that's your entire slot from check in to departure, including your time in the changing room. Get there 10-15 minutes early so check in doesn't eat into your pool time, and you'll be able to enjoy some tea in the spa's beautiful atrium before being escorted to the changing rooms. Then don't dawdle; get into your swimming costume and get to what you've paid for. If you're just doing the pools, two hours is an ample time slot. If you have a massage as well, you might find the pool lounging time a bit curtailed. The joy of these short slots is that they fit easily as a break in a longer day of sightseeing. The Hammam even offers sessions at 10 pm and midnight, for the real night owls.

With their limited capacity, I got the impression that most sessions are sold out. Pre-booking on their web site is essential, particularly for any treatments. There's no sense playing a guessing game over which days and times would be less crowded, because they're all pretty much the same. Just pick what's best for you. On a return visit, I might go for the 4pm siesta slot. Relax, re-energise and clean up before discovering more of Granada's wonderful bars and restaurants.