Ghosted by a Haunted Resort: The Al Zahra Desert Resort Investigation

By Sarah Tonin:

Lazy Summary:

• Expensive Middle Eastern desert resort undermined by technical and logistical issues

• Frustrating booking process, do not attempt while in a calorie deficit

• Staff attendance for add-on activities: 50% (one showed up, one didn't)

• Violet talked to ChatGPT about bread

From the Paranormal Investigation Files of Sarah Tonin

The text from Dirk arrived two weeks ago over breakfast while Violet was crushing peppercorns with a mortar and pestle.

"What happened to the pepper mill?" I asked.

"Tossed it," she replied, dumping its contents on a pile of egg whites. "Pulverizing burns calories."

I shook my head and made coffee. Violet was deep in her diet and there were problems. Her clothes didn't fit the same. Her food scale didn't fit her purse. She was having long conversations with her phone. Worse still, she was always freezing. 

"Sarah, mind turning the heat up?" 

"I just sat down. You do it." 

My nerves had frayed so much that Dirk's message caused me to jump: "Heard Violet needs some sun. What about a vacation? Lifestyle Inc. has a new desert resort." 

I showed Violet. She looked up from her egg whites, her expression a mask of misery.

"Lifestyle Inc.?" She looked suspicious. "The same Lifestyle Inc. where I dated bigfoot? Where that one waitress became dessert?  Where our couples therapist told you all our problems were just misunderstandings?"

Lifestyle Inc. had become the hub part in the wheel that was our second life, central to nearly everything: the personal, professional, and the paranormal. But to what end? 

Airport Security Theatre

I sailed past the security checkpoint. Nobody stopped me. Nobody could. The airport was staffed entirely by mannequins. Their vigilance was theatrical and permanent. (Except for that one stuck in a yawn.) Somewhere nearby, a checked luggage carousel groaned to life.

Violet dropped a small suitcase on the belt. It vanished, phasing through a wall without any sign of resistance. You'd have expected some protest from her food scale.

"Did it just–"

"Pass through a solid wall?" I was already taking notes as we were called to board. Something felt off. My phone buzzed; it was a follow-up text from Dirk: "Hearing reports of staff vanishing at Al Zahra. Ghostly disturbances. Probably nothing. Enjoy your vacation."

Which is Dirk-speak for "this is definitely something, please investigate immediately."

Investigation Note: Bookings at Al Zahra include a trip through Lifestyle Inc.'s international airport, with a brief "flight" as an interlude. It's self-service, although a Lifestyle concierge helps guide you through the experience. A fun bit of roleplay to start the trip.

Thirty Thousand Feet (and Zero Carbs)

The flight itself was entirely, unsettlingly empty, which explained why I'd been allowed to board with enough luggage to stock a small airport kiosk. (Or a large paranormal investigation.) I wedged my hotel trolley into the aisle and flagged down a flight attendant who wasn't moving or speaking or capable of either.

"Wine," I said. "The entire bottle."

Violet was across from me, wrapped in airplane blankets and radiating misery. She hadn't even bothered to take them out of the plastic.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." Her teeth weren't chattering. Not yet, at least. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"Bread." She pulled out her phone and opened Myfitnesspal. "It's over, Sarah."

"Your diet?"

"No, I am. For the day."

She stared at the screen with an intensity that suggested she was about to commit a crime. Her thumbs flew over the gorilla glass. A long pause. She softened. Colour returned to her cheeks. Her eyes glazed over like a toddler zombified by its first Baby Shark encounter. A slight smile on her lips. "Oh my god, it's talking about the butter layers."

"What is?" I asked with some trepidation. When she passed me her phone, there was the prompt: "Describe eating a fresh croissant in excruciating detail."

"This is concerning, Violet."

"You're haven't been eating cauliflower and pretending it's rice for three months." She had taken her phone back and was scrolling again, only faster. "Now it's saying how the outside crust shatters against your teeth when you bite it. The warmth underneath. Sarah? I think I'm crying."

"It's okay to cry." I took her hand and was about to say more, when the captain announced our descent into Al Zahra.

Investigation Note: The flight to Al Zahra is a remarkably brief, blink-and-you'll-miss-it sort of deal. Just enough time to snap a picture, interact with the snarky in-flight entertainment, and pass through to check-in.

A Room with a Glitch

Al Zahra revealed itself through the airplane window. The sun's rays glinted off the window-walled buildings like some jewel stuck in the sand. It looked expensive. An oasis whose water use would rival an avocado plantation.

Our room was pretty nice. Thoughtfully decorated with wicker and wood without feeling at all rustic. If anything, it was too tidy. Too pristine. No person had ever lived here. Had anyone even stayed? New hotel smell just smells like fresh construction. After dropping our bags in the landing, Violet made for the fire table like a moth with metabolic disorder. That's when we first saw them.

Strange glowing spheres that pulsed from the controlled blaze. Ominous satellites that hovered without sound or rotation, their glare burning bright in the reflection of the sliding glass pane I had attempted to walk through just moments before. (Hey, it worked for our luggage.)

"Orbs," I said, pulling out my phone to snap a picture for Dirk.

"Classic paranormal manifestation." Violet nudged closer, one arm outstretched. The lights seemed to pulse and flicker in response to her presence. She was shivering in spite of the fire's warmth. "Spirits have been said to present this way. Like balls of energy."

I texted Dirk. It was 3:47 PM desert time, so he was certainly wide awake. "URGENT: Orbs spotted at Al Zahra. Many light sources. Unexplained. Violet very cold." He responded before I had even hit send: "Classic haunting. Document everything. Also get Violet a sweater."

"He says get a sweater."

"I'm wearing two." Giving up on the orbs, she seemed lost in another bread fugue. Her voice was distant. "Tell him they're not helping."

My phone buzzed again. Dirk: "Forgot to mention. Caloric restriction enhances paranormal sensitivity. Violet = perfect ghost detector. Cold helps."

I showed Violet. She looked up from her carb fantasy, mascara slightly smudged. "So my suffering has purpose?"

"Apparently you're a paranormal antenna now."

"Great." She went back to her phone. "Do you think they've got haunted bakeries?"

Investigation Note: We stayed in the Al Zahra Villa, a two-storey ocean swimout with balcony, pool, and queen sized bed priced at L$3,000 per night. The build and decor were nice but not remarkable, and for the price there are prettier places to stay. We also encountered some strange reflections from light sources in the villa. Finally, it's not a Lifestyle resort without a toilet in full view of a window.

Spiritual Waterboarding

We decided to explore the resort grounds next. Things–namely Violet's core temperature and step count–were looking up. The beach stretched out behind our building. Daybeds dotted the sand at intervals that suggested comfortable privacy. More noteworthy was the archery range, conveniently located...

...but directionally optimistic. And at the water's edge: a jetski.

The moment I touched it, the sand beneath my feet evaporated. I fell through the beach–into the actual ground–and plummeted down through a subterranean estuary. Panicking, I flailed and flapped and smashed my head into the top of the ground's bottom. The sand had recomposed itself, forming solid sediment.

I heard a distant voice. Something about having 30 seconds to leave the area. The silt seemed to glow. I blacked out.

"What just happened?" Violet was staring down at me on the beach. I was sopping wet.

"Security orb," I sputtered, brushing muck off my clothes. "Felt like a vengeful mall cop stuck guarding Claire's for all eternity."

Investigation Note: Al Zahra is pretty at first glance but there are some issues with the build. There were places on the beach where I fell through the sand and was left stuck underwater beneath a villa, before being helpfully ejected by a security orb. The jetski rezzer would plant boats in the beach like palm trees; another spot to get stuck. Overall, it's nice enough to look at but poorly realized.

Waiting for Godot's Sourdough Starter

We had a full investigative itinerary planned for the next day: tubing at 2 PM, then dinner. A trip on the water seemed like the perfect way to survey the shallows for paranormal activity, while working up an appetite. Not much to do for one of us.

"Y'know, inner tubes are kind of orby, too," I mused while we stood on the dock, waiting for our ride.

"Sure." Violet had her phone out within thirty seconds.

"I guess tubes are more corporeal. Note it for our file, or just call it coincidence?"

"Mhm."

"What are you doing?"

"Research."

My eyes narrowed. I looked over her shoulder. "Can I see?"

Her eyes closed momentarily. A small, pained noise escaped her lips.

"Violet."

She cleared her throat. "It says, 'The interior presents a landscape of irregular holes, each chamber a pocket of air, trapped during fermentation. The crumb–"

"The what?"

"'–the crumb,'" she continued breathlessly, "'yields beneath gentle pressure, springing back warm with the resilience of properly developed gluten. Each bite releases sweetness, the natural sugars in the flour caramelized–'"

She stopped. Her eyes were glassy. "Sarah. It's describing the Maillard reaction."

"Should I be concerned?" It was 2:15 PM. Still no boat. Still no staff member. Still no message.

"'–painting the crust in shades of amber and gold." Violet continued. She was skipping sections and skimming with rapt attention, "'–enriched with egg wash, gives way with an audible crack like a promise fulfilled. Beneath lies a tender interior, its structure defined by the braiding process, each strand distinct yet unified, pulling apart in soft, buttery threads. The richness coats your palate, lingers on your tongue–'"

She paused to swallow.

"'–a sweetness that refuses to leave, that haunts the space between breaths.'"

"Violet."

"I'm fine." But her hands were shaking. 2:30 PM now. I paced the perimeter of the dock, glancing at the EMF detector on my wrist. The readings were clear: someone should be here.

Behind me, Violet had begun to read again. Her voice trembled.

"'Day one: you combine flour and water in equal parts. The mixture seems inert, but invisible yeasts awaken, wild and ambient. Day two: bubbles appear. Small at first. Evidence of something stirring beneath the surface, restless.'"

"We've been ghosted," I said.

"'By day five," she continued, not hearing me, "'the starter has developed its character. Tangy and complex. Each feeding–twice daily, as ritual–strengthens the bond. The discard–'" she stopped and looked up, "'–can be used for pancakes.'"

"Violet, focus."

"It says the optimal fermentation temperature is twenty-seven to thirty-two degrees. Just below normal body temperature." She paused. "Which I currently don't have."

We waited another fifteen minutes. No message, no apologetic staff member. We'd been ghosted by a resort we believed was haunted.

Investigation Note: The booking and confirmation process for roleplay activities could use some improvement. We were stood up for the tubing activity we booked. No follow-up, no apology, no refund. Mistakes happen, but this seems to be a recurring problem at Lifestyle places. At the Aspen resort, we had to follow up with a manager to make the pilot for a prebooked helicopter tour appear.

Booking: When Everything's Wrong But Also Fixed But Also Wrong (Again)

In hindsight, the paranormal investigation started before we even arrived, back when I was trying to book our trip in the first place.

I selected a room. Additional activities? Sure, tubing and dinner. Paid. Was sent a post-payment form where I could specify times for things. None of the possible times for dinner worked with our schedule.

I contacted one of Lifestyle Inc.'s managers. She promised to escalate to the CEO. The CEO! Like sending email to jeff@amazon.com when your subscription to laundry detergent gets lost.

A notecard arrived with a new check-in time. But not the one I'd requested. It said the concierge would contact us after check-in, to get us started checking in. Somehow this felt like progress.

Two days before our trip, I followed up with the manager. Still waiting to hear from Jeff. Said she would get back to me. (She didn't.)

On check-in day, the concierge contacted us at the check-in time I'd first requested, which nobody had confirmed. We rushed, changed plans, and made our flight.

At the resort, our concierge checked us in and confirmed the times for our activities. Both were wrong. She was helpful and rebooked them on the spot. Finally. Everything sorted?

Except later that day, another staff member showed up for the next night's dinner. The rebooking of our original booking hadn't made its way through their system, and I had to tell her we'd changed it. I felt terrible; she'd shown up for something that wasn't happening.

Violet watched as my apologies became increasingly Canadian. "This is like that one time you tried canceling your gym membership."

Investigation Note: The booking process for Al Zahra involves many steps that don't seem to interconnect. Pre-payment confirmations don't match the post-payment forms. Post-payment forms don't match what's actually available. Escalations to management go unanswered. If you don't have a SL-facing Instagram or Facebook account, good luck getting things changed around. When you finally do find help, rebookings don't sync across the team. Fixes create new problems. It would be helpful to know what the "default" available times are for RP activities before booking, as it can be a challenge to change reservations once they've been made.

Someone Shows Up (And Violet Eats Bread)

After being ghosted for our tubing session, we wondered if dinner would be just as ethereal. With a meal from the mini bar to look forward to, Violet's calorie-dense chats seemed almost prescient.

Fortunately, when we arrived at Layali Lounge, our server actually existed in physical space at the appointed place and time. Already an improvement.

The restaurant was carved into an open-air cave, each nook pockmarked with views of the night sky. With lights above the table like constellations, the vibe was warm and intimate and almost forgiving. Our server left us to peruse the menu. Violet stared at it intently. I wondered if she wasn't put off by there being nowhere to enter a prompt.

"I'm having the flatbread," she announced.

"Come again?"

"Flatbread." She looked up at me, somehow defiant.

"But it has bread in it."

"Right, but flat."

Our server returned, and Violet ordered with the conviction of someone placing a long-shot bet. I selected something safe. We were the only couple there and had our server's full attention. Her banter was professional but charming. It almost felt like we were on vacation.

And then Violet's flatbread arrived.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

"It's bread."

"It's flat. And a circle." She inhaled the aroma wafting up from the table. "Like time."

She took a bite and closed her eyes. "So warm." Her eyes remained closed. "The crust has char marks from the grill. The texture–" she paused as if to search for words, "–tender. Pillowy. Olive oil pooling away in the dimples where–"

"You should stop."

"ChatGPT was right about everything, Sarah."

For the rest of the meal, we ate in comfortable silence. The warmth returned to Violet's face. Other than her cheeks, the lights were the only thing glowing in that cave. No orbs to find or spirits to detect. We were truly, restfully, and blissfully on vacation. Al Zahra was exactly as it should be.

Investigation Note: Dinner was a nice experience. The roleplay was a mix of pre-written descriptions and improvised banter. As with most things like this, so much depends on who you get for your server. In the past, we've found roleplay at Lifestyle places to be a little canned and impersonal (referring to us as "Guest" for example) but this time was better for that. That being said, for the price, there are better roleplay dinners out there. Even if the experience has improved from our previous meals, there are better options for roleplay dinner at this price.

Conclusion

"You know what the scariest part is?" Violet asked. She was wearing normal clothes now. Just one sweater. The flatbread had worked. Fueled by carbohydrates, her body's core temperature rose enough to ward off whatever spirits were attracted to her diet-induced hypothermia. "I actually believed Dirk when he said this would be a vacation."

I looked at my notes. The pattern was undeniable. Aspen. Casa Cantina. Therapy. Now Al Zahra. All this year. The staff were overworked and underprepared, reliant on scripts and struggling to communicate–with guests, with each other.

"They're spread too thin," I replied. "Too many locations, they can't properly staff these places at this rate."

Violet stared at the fire table. The orbs we had seen previously were nowhere to be seen after dinner. "You don't think the spirits were real?"

"Does it matter? We're paranormal investigators. We document what we see: phase shifting luggage, temporally disturbed staff, orbs."

"So what do we tell Dirk?"

I thought about it. Al Zahra had moments of genuine beauty and relaxation. Dinner, the architecture, the times when things actually worked. But moments like these were the exception rather than the rule.

"We tell him the truth," I said. "Al Zahra's haunted. By its potential."

Violet pulled her phone out. I took a careful breath and held it. Hadn't she just eaten?

"I'm asking it to describe the experience of leaving a resort that could have been great but wasn't."

Investigation Note: We can't recommend Al Zahra in its current state. Although there are some lovely individual elements, decent roleplay (when it happens), and fun things to do on the property, the issues we experienced are disqualifying given the price point. Even without the headaches, there are places that look better, are run better, and where you won't fall through the beach.

Booking Details

Al Zahra Desert Resort is operated by Lifestyle Inc. Reservations can be made through their website [https://lifestyleinc.wixsite.com/alzahra/book-a-room]. Room rates range from L$2,000 to L6,000 per night. Roleplay experiences can be added during booking. These should be confirmed multiple times, over and over, through various channels (perhaps via seance) if you want them to actually happen.