The sand here holds warmth long after sunset, fine-grained and pale gold, packed firm near the waterline where small waves collapse in rhythmic whispers. You'll spread your towel in the shadow of date palms that rustle in the Gulf breeze, the fronds casting dappled patterns across your shoulders. Within minutes of entering the water, you'll be finning over coral formations so close to shore you could walk back to your towel in thirty seconds—if you could bring yourself to leave.
“The reef begins mere meters from shore, offering immediate access to one of the Gulf of Aqaba's most biodiverse shallow-water ecosystems without the need for boats or lengthy swims.”
Tropical island lagoon from above
The reef drops away in terraced plateaus, each level crowded with a different ecosystem. Sergeant majors dart through staghorn branches; moray eels peer from crevices with unblinking eyes. You'll hover above a garden of brain coral, each polyp the size of your fist, watching a Napoleon wrasse glide past with the slow confidence of something that has no predators. The water temperature hovers near 78 degrees, comfortable enough that you'll lose track of time, surfacing only when your fingers prune.
Local legend ties this beach to the pharaoh's pursuit of Moses, though historians place that event further south. What matters is the name has stuck, lending the coastline a mythic weight. You'll sit at a beachside café after your swim, salt drying on your skin, eating fresh-caught bouri with lemon squeezed over the flesh, watching the mountains turn purple as the sun drops behind them.
